Once Shaken; Twice Shy

So we get back to L.A., check into our accommodations, thinking we're finally safe, only to be greeted by the emergency warning system alerting us to possible flash floods.  You have got to be kidding!!!

I'll take flash flood for $500, Alex, over nuclear meltdown.  Thank you.

We order a pizza and wash it down with a bottle of wine.

Instead of being rocked to sleep as usual, we're serenaded by thunderstorms and lightening.  It's a refreshing change.

When I wake up in the morning at 4:30am I realize the fine film of fear has magically dissipated.
I feel strangely refreshed and take Ranger for a walk.

There's a full moon still shining at 5am and it reminds me of when Russell and I were living on two continents.  The only time we could talk to one another was when it was in-between times, sunrise or sunset, when he was the moon and I was the sun, greeting each other as we passed the baton from one day to the next.

I turn on the TV hoping for better news and hear that the U.S. government is now distributing potassium iodide pills to remaining citizens in Northern Japan and Tokyo as a precaution.  Hopefully they won't have to take them any time soon.  I'm feeling pretty good about coming home now.

For lunch we decide to continue the calorie brigade initiated last night and go to Ruby's on the Seal Beach pier.  Surfers are taking advantage of the stormy seas.  There's post rain trash floating all around them.  Ahh, there's no place like home.

We share a cheeseburger, chili fries and a chocolate malt.  You gotta have the chocolate malt with a Ruby's hamburger or why bother.  While we're waiting for lunch I realize we're still rocking. WTF?  Brilliant choice to eat on the pier.  Every wave makes it feel like another earthquake is occurring.

I look across the sea, Catalina looms on the horizon, gulls protest the wind, sun shimmers on the water, and bewildered tourists linger on the pier in shorts and tank tops (they must be from the mid-west; it's 58 degrees!).  Just 48 hours ago I was in Tokyo, contemplating risks.

I feel for those who don't have the choice or means to leave.  I reflect on the concerns and support of caring friends and family.  I take another swig of malt and I feel thankful... and fat.