Thursday, January 13, 2011

Five Cranky Minutes on Coronado Beach

I'm frustrated this week, so I'm sitting on a bench on Coronado Beach for five minutes. Here's the view.
A Bench With a View
(Awesomely amateur photo credit: Crabby Carrie Keyes)
Despite the gorgeous vista, I'm having a bad day, and I could use a friend. Are you a good listener? Good, because I'm crabby. I'm going to free associate. Here's what I'm thinking about during five minutes on a bench on Coronado Beach. You might not like it, but I'm being honest.

I wonder why everyone is up in arms about the Race to Nowhere and how we can change when I volunteer at Village Elementary a combined 4-6 hours a week and have learned that some parents aren't checking to see if their kids are doing their homework or if they need help. Aren't reviewing tests. Aren't getting them to school on time. And I wonder, isn't this a fundamental parental requirement? That you would facilitate and support your child's growth? And to think we're in a top rated school system. I can only imagine what it's like in ailing schools. We can't start the race if we don't get our kids to the starting line.

I wonder when I can get back to Chez Loma for happy hour. It's so cozy and romantic.

I wonder why, when I asked that passing tourist if he would like me to take a picture for him, he looked at me like I was a camera thief. I'm friendly, really. I think he's from New York. I wonder if he knows the iceplant dunes spell out the word 'Coronado.' I wonder, if I tell him this fact, will he give me that look again?

I wonder why it's so hard to write a novel, and whether my strings of words will ever resonate with anyone. And I wonder why I'm writing a novel in the first place. It's frustrating. And I wonder why I'm writing a blog.

I wonder if you're still reading.

I wonder when the grunion will run next. Slippery little suckers.

Sometimes I get frustrated with the San Diego Union Tribune. They wedge the Books section into random places like Dialogue when it should be in Arts and Culture. And why do they place the Weather page on the back of the Sports section when they must know that only women check the weather? We're the ones who dress the kids for school, we're the only ones who seem to get cold, and we're the only ones who worry about rain and what it does to our hair. Sheesh.

I wonder why that lady just jogged past and told her friend that she pees every time she sneezes.

I should have joined the FBI. I'm fairly observant (see above) and I used to be smart.

I wonder if I've found paradise sitting on a beach for five minutes. No, not yet.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

I know what tomorrow will bring. Sun, according to the weather page (I found it). I know tomorrow it will rain sunshine. Our kids will be prepared for school. Mexico will have a peaceful day. I'll go to Chez Loma for happy hour. The FBI will give me an honorary assignment, and it will provide me inspiration to write a really good novel. Tourists will trust me; grunions will flip their silvery skins across Coronado Beach. And women all over America will sneeze without peeing their pants.

Yes, tomorrow will be good. I just found paradise. Thanks for sitting with me.

* The You Tube song of the week is Bad Day.

(Carrie Keyes is the author of the blog Pencil in Paradise. You can find Paradise at home, at and Look for Paradise on Facebook (search Pencil in Paradise) and Twitter (@CarrieKeyes).

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