This is Monika's last weekend in San Diego. She hits the road for Columbus, Ohio on Monday (I enjoyed watching View from the Top with her, with its Cleveland-bashing and image of Ohio as the world's waiting room). So today we were supposed to go bowling as a going-away party, with a dinner to follow. The bowling was particularly exciting, since Monika and I had never bowled together, and our previous attempt, at my going-away party from the Cove, was foiled when we couldn't get a lane at the Sunset Bowl. But Monika called, and was assured that we could probably get a lane at 3 on a Saturday, no problem. Instead, we end up on a list, and wait about two hours. When we finally complain, they tell us they called us a long time ago, even though there were about eight of us and no one heard anything, and I had just recently checked to see where we were on the list and we were still there. Sunset Bowl is nice, but I don't think I'll be back, I've never been able to get a lane easily. Even when I do get a lane, it usually is still an issue, as we'll need two or three lanes but only get one. So that was unfortunate, but we went to Mission Bay Park instead, and played on the swing and monkey bars, and that was fun. I hadn't been on a swing in a long, long time. My legs are a bit too long, I can't really pump because the ground gets in the way. But it was fun, and I also enjoyed watching Monika's boyfriend Nick get ganged up on by a bunch of girls daring him to jump off the monkey bars. Then a nice dinner at Mandarin Dynasty followed, and a good time was had by all. But the occasion was not exactly a happy one; I'll miss Monika a lot. We had a class together in elementary school, spent upteen lunches together in high school, worked together at the Cove, where she replaced me (eventually), and I enjoyed hearing about the Cove and Spense, and whatever drama was going down at Landmark. It's like how there are several newspapers all claiming to be the oldest in the country; some are the oldest continuously-publishing, some are just old. I guess Monika's just my oldest friend. There are very few people from elementary school I could consider friends years later, and with the exception of Carinna, I lost contact with them shortly after high school (and eventually even Carinna; I don't think I've been in touch with her in almost two years). Monika is good people, no doubt about it. I doubt life will bring me to Ohio anytime soon, but hopefully she'll come back to San Diego on occasion, because I know a lot of people who will miss her very much.

Last night, I saw Hot Club of Cowtown at the Casbah. Appropriately enough, I also finally got the Ghost Train CD I'd ordered off Amazon.com that day, so I could hear some more of them before I came. The album is alright, though had I heard it before that day, I'd probably have not bothered to attend the show, but seeing as I had nothing better to do, I went, and they were fantastic live. I didn't quite care for Elana Fremerman voice on the album, but it seemed to have a lot more feeling when I heard it undigitized (though it was her fiddling that really impressed me). The show started about fourty minutes late, but the band was apologetic about it, which was nice, and the crowd was rather noisy, which was annoying, but I had a good time. I meant to write last night, so I could have had some more specific things to say. As it is, I forget the names of just about all the songs they played. Some standards, like "Cotton-Eyed Joe" (their rendition was a lot slower and more thoughtful than I've heard before, I really liked it), but seemed like they were focusing more on their own material. They did play "Forget-Me-Nots," the first song of theirs I had heard, which was great, though it seemed Elana was having trouble with the vocals, hitting some of the notes. Ghost Train is a good album, as well, lest my comments about it dissuade you; I just wouldn't have been as excited to pay ten bucks to stand around and wait for them to play based solely on that album.

But anyway, I'm sad Monika's leaving. I had fun today, and didn't really think much about it, until it was time to say goodbye. I had been listening to Lyle Lovett's Road to Ensenada in the car, but "That's Right (You're Not From Texas)" seemed too frivilous for the mood, so I put on Pink Martini and played "Que Sera, Sera" a few times over. Which I've been doing a lot anyway, that's a beautiful song (I really love that CD). But it fit the moment better. Though I'd probably be depressed anyway, even without this. My mom woke me up this morning crying, asking me some question about how to get money out of one of grandma's bank accounts. So I assumed grandma was dead, but it turns out she's just really having trouble doing anything without getting winded, and has some sort of bedsore type thing on her butt. So Mom wanted money in an account where she can write checks, in case she has to pay for Grandma to go into a nursing home (she's in assisted living now). Now I don't think its a big deal, but being woken up and encountering the situation as I did, it had an impact on me. More for its effect on my mother than anything; I love my Grandma, but she's very, very old and, having just lost a father, I think her death would be regarded by me as more an unfortunate inevitability than a great tragedy. But I can't imagine losing your mother and your husband in the span of a few months. But I don't think its a big deal, she just needs to see a doctor on Monday and get a treatment worked out. She choked on something at lunch not long ago, which might have something to do with her getting winded all the time; otherwise, its probably just her lifelong smoking habit catching up with her (she quit about five years ago). But I don't think its imminently life-threatening or anything.