Before I continue on my blahblah about this past weekend, I shall take a detour into discussing the Record Breaking Heat Wave Madness; since I don’t want to end the narrative on a downer note, let’s just git it out of the way. Was it hot? Law, yes. Jill has created in words a snapshot of a true San Francisco moment during this, the ’06 Heatwave. Due to some canny timing, I managed to not be in the worst of the heat on Saturday, and therefore retained my will to live. Poor Molly was so uncomfortable, I wanted to relocate her to a mythical balmy backyard with lots of water toys. For Sunday lunch, M and I were joined at the St. Francis Fountain by Brian, who was not glowing, nor perspiring, nor shvitzing — he was a Brian-fountain of sweat. And it was my fault. Cause I told him to meet us for lunch “at the St. Francis” — chosen because it was conveniently located to where we both were. But no, I was not clear, so he went, logically, to another St. Francis (which has A/C — why didn’t we go there?) So the poor man had to bike, in kajillion degree weather, from his neighborhood, to downtown, back to his neighborhood. Brian, the Mt. Tikisoki Water Volcano is on me. Finally, on Sunday at 3pm, my will to live officially ended as I started on my death drive from San Francisco back to Ventura. I had to turn the A/C off during the hottest portions of the drive so as not to overheat the car. At points, I actually started panting. “Oh, mama,” I thought, “I’m comin up to heaven to see you.” Now do you understand why I had to have two milk shakes?