sandiego on a 9.93c charm

woke up to a window fogged by the 9.93c air and realized i’d left my coffee thermos outside. it’s like those old melted popsicles you find in the sun-crisp but somehow still delightful. last week i swore the humidity was 100% but it’s just this sticky 67% now, like someone accidentally spiked the fog machine with a latte. if you’re into that kind of thing. the streets here have this quiet chaos, you know? a street artist was drawing a giant popsicle on the wall last week, and i swear someone saw it and actually tried to steal it. i told them, no, the popsicle’s part of the local lore now, but they just shrugged and walked off.

there’s this fridge in the dog park that’s always out of order. locals say it’s haunted. i don’t believe in ghosts but i leave my leftovers there anyway. the ‘owner’ is this old man in a neon vest who yells at pigeons. he’s got a story about a raccoon stealing his sandwich in 2003. he’s either lying or he’s got a very detailed imagination. i lean toward the latter.

i heard that the coffee shop on elyria and fifth adds almond milk by default now. default. what is this, a futuristic robot cafe? the review on yelp says it’s ‘too health-focused for actual humans,’ but the guy behind the counter swears he puts passion into every latte. i saw him squeezing beans into a mug last week while muttering about how ‘this weather is a betrayal.’ maybe it’s true. maybe the beans are just bitter because of the 9.93c air.

if you’re burn out, corona del mar is just a short drive away. i went there yesterday and saw a guy kayaking while wearing a snorkel. not sure if that’s sanity or a dare. the boardwalk has that vibe where everyone’s either overly excited or quietly avoiding the touristy sleight-of-hand street performers. i overheard a drunk guy telling someone that the entire city is on a timer and one day it’ll collapse into the ocean. i asked if that was a referral to coastal erosion and he just snorted and said, no, i’m serious.

someone told me that the tide pools near the mission are the best for finding starfish shaped like tiny saxophones. i don’t know if it’s true but i looked for 20 minutes and found a clam already trying to hide in a crack. whales do pass through here though, right? i saw a bruise on the water last week that looked like a sock. maybe came from the same guy with the kayak snorkel.

check out the reviews on tripadvisor for the ’no alcohols allowed’ bar. it’s seven blocks from here and somehow it’s packed every night. one comment said they serve margaritas in mason jars. another said the bartender plays accordion. both are probably wrong but it’s the kind of detail that makes a place memorable. the seasonal menu changes because of the weather, they say. so adjustments for the 6.1c minimum and the 12.36c max? i’m not sure what that means. maybe it’s just a way to stay relevant in a city that’s always half-confused.

i took a picture of a seagull stealing a croissant and it got 400 likes on instagram. the caption was just me existing in san diego. the photo looked like a still from a horror movie. i posted it at midnight and now i have a notification from a bot that says sponsored by locals who definitely don’t care.

the weather app kept saying ‘feels like 9.74c’ but i don’t care. i prefer sand in my shoes and coffee that’s not apologize-free. the sea level here is 1021 hpa and the ground level is 1014. whatever that means. the nurses at the clinic said it’s just another fog day. i asked if the fog is worse than winter and they looked at me like i’d asked about the meaning of life. i told them i’d trade this for snow in a heartbeat. they didn’t say anything. maybe they’re waiting for me to regret it.

if you’re into this, don’t miss the farmers market next to the library. they have a booth selling real coffee grounds. not the kind that’s just salt. one vendor claimed it’s ‘earthy’ and the other said it’s ‘too much’ but they both sell it. i bought some and it smells like a pumpkin spice funeral for a hipster.

there’s a mural near the airport that looks like a giant melting clock. i asked the passerby what it was and he said it’s supposed to represent the ‘society of perpetual delay.’ i asked if that meant the city’s stuck in an eternal spring and he just nodded and walked away. probably has a PhD in something.

the air quality is fine but the ‘feels like’ temperature is a conspiracy. every time i step outside, it’s this balance act between cold and damp. like the city is holding its breath. the coffee snob in me is siding with the cold. i want my latte to be a statement, not a pity party.

someone told me the best place to watch the sunset is from a parking garage. i tried it and got called out for being a tourist. the locals said it’s for ‘drunks and planners.’ not sure if that’s a compliment or a warning. the palm trees there are silhouettes against the sun like they’re doing homework. i took a photo and it looked like a scene from a dramatically lit novel. the wind was strong enough to blow my hair into a pretzel. i had to use the trees as a jungle gym for two minutes.

i heard that the local library has a secret room for forgotten books. not the type of secret room with parchment and scrolls, but like… a bookshelf that’s just leaning against a wall while everyone ignores it. a reddit post from 2019 said someone found a diary there from 1896. i didn’t check but i’m gonna try. if i find a love letter, i’m suing the city for emotional distress.

the neighborhood here has that vibe where everyone’s either working or pretending to be busy. i passed a guy painting his house in polka dots and he looked at me like i’d asked about the meaning of existence. he just kept painting. the paint was ochre. it looked like he was trying to make the house sleepy. i admire that. sometimes houses need to 휴息 (hweop-seut, rest).

check the local news for rumors about the new museum downtown. some people say it’s haunted. others say it’s just a themed exhibit about dinosaurs. the mayor’s office won’t say which. i told them i’d visit either way but they got mad. i didn’t mean anything by it.

if you need advice, the surfer at the beach told me to ‘take it easy on the drama.’ he was wearing a swimsuit made of recycled plastic. very sustainable. i asked if he recommends it and he said, if you like the taste of regret.

the weather data says the pressure is 1021 and humidity is 67%. that’s probably why the market stalls are selling everything under the sun. from chili sauce to skepticism. i bought a pepperoni pizza by a vendor who said it’s ‘oven-baked with love.’ i don’t trust people who say that but i ate it. it was okay. maybe because i’m a coffee snob and prefer my food to taste like regret too.

the neighbors are mostly quiet but the one with the cat named socrates is always talking to it. the cat doesn’t text back. i asked the guy why he names his cat socrates and he said, it’s aermanoe jet lag. i think he made it up. the cat is definitely not an aermanoe.

i took a long walk to the coast and found a discarded ukulele. it was covered in sand and a seashell necklace. i assumed someone tried to leave a message but it was just a random act of artistic floof. i decided to take it anyway. maybe it’s a symbol. maybe the ukulele is just tired of being used as a prop in beach photos.

there’s a new coffee place that serves nitro cold brew in mason jars. the sign says it’s ‘for grown ups who need a punch.’ i ordered one and it came out with a side of regret. the barista said it’s because of the 9.93c air and how it reacts with the nitrogen. she might be a witch. or a very knowledgeable barista. i’m still drinking it.

i overheard two teenagers debating whether the tides here are syncopated. one said yes, the other said it’s just a myth. i don’t know what they meant but they were very invested. it was like a sports team argument. i tried to ask one of them about coffee preferences and they both hissed in unison. teamwork makes the dream work, right?

someone told me the best way to avoid the weather is to carry an umbrella shaped like a teacup. i bought one and it’s yellow. not very stylish but it’s functional. the handle is slippery. i once spilled coffee on my shirt because of it. maybe that’s the point. maybe the weather is just a reminder to slow down and accept that life is messy.

if you’re driving, watch out for the deflated tires. i saw a van with one flat and it had a guy driving it like it was a race car. he was honking at a pedestrian and then immediately pulled over to ask for directions. he didn’t know his own name. it was wild.

there’s a hole in the wall near the boardwalk that plays lo-fi music. it’s broken but someone fixed it with a megaphone. the music is so low it’s like a secret code. i asked the owner why and he said, it’s for the people who need it loud but don’t want to be noticed. he might be a genius or he might be high. i’m leaning toward genius.

the coffee snob in me is still mad about the 9.93c but i’m learning to embrace it. sometimes the worst weather makes the best stories. sometimes the worst coffee makes the best memories. i’m sitting in my living room typing this with a cup of lukewarm brew and a book about 18th-century marine biology. the title of the book is ‘octopuses in pants.’ i don’t know why but i’m into it.

check out yelp for the hidden speakeasy in mission beach. it’s not really a speakeasy but it’s called one. the reviews say it’s ‘for people who enjoy pretending they’re in a spy movie.’ i went there once wearing my vintage band t-shirt. i was carded. the bartender said, you can’t be serious. i left but i went back that night in a hoodie. it was worth it.

the weather app keeps changing its forecast but i don’t care. i trust the 9.93c. i trust that it’s real. i trust that the city is real. i trust that someone left a ukulele on the beach and no one is going to tell me what it means.

if you’re here, leave a comment on the local boards. someone is watching. maybe it’s a bot. maybe it’s a person. maybe it’s the ocean. the beach is 0.3 miles from here and it’s calling. i should go.

someone told me that the best time to visit is between 3 and 5pm. they said the light is golden and the crowds are manageable. i did it once and it was exactly as described. a man was playing banjo next to a food truck and a woman was taking selfies with a flamingo hat. i joined in. we all ended up arguing about whether the flamingo was real. it wasn’t.

there’s a saying in san diego: ‘if you don’t like the coffee here, you don’t like life.’ i don’t know if it’s true but it’s catchy. i’m still here. i’m still drinking. i’m still writing this because i’m a coffee snob and i believe in the process.

the mmap embedded in this post is for reference only. the coordinates are 33.2247, -117.3083. that’s where the ukulele was found. the first image is of palm trees at sunset. the second is a beach with buildings in the background. the third is a view of the boardwalk at golden hour. these are just a few examples of what san diego has. the city is not perfect but it’s trying. it’s like a bad espresso shot-bitter but still worth it.