Leaving beautiful Santa Barbara this morning. Never thought of it as setting for one of my favorite dystopia films, though
Day One: Saw the wild fires as soon as we landed, those beautiful mountains wreathed in black smoke. By the time I arrived at the hotel, the staff was busily sweeping ash off the outdoor furniture. Hmmmm.
Day Two: having coffee and editing a document with a Macaulay colleague by phone when bam! an explosion outside. Only then the room began to shake and my coffee spilled all over the bed. Heard someone shriek, oh, that’s me, and was surprised when the room took no notice and kept hurtling along merrily.
I hurried outside, a good girl as instructed by the in-room loudspeaker, and by then, all was calm, though we looked warily towards the ocean as the word “tsunami” was passing around.
Eh, the local news didn’t even mention it. But 5.2 got this New Yorker’s attention.
Day Two and Half: the lights went out. Most of Santa Barbara had a power blackout, unclear whether it was related to the earthquake.
Day Three: No pestilence yet though I did acquire a major cold sore just in time for my next book talk tomorrow in LA.
Good thing I’m not superstitious or I would worry that Josephine is trying to keep me out of LA. Remember, she put a curse on the man or woman who would write her story. I am absolutely certain that there are statutes of limitations on those things. Right?