Pierce, Southern California needs you

So, remember the movie Dante's Peak? Well, when I woke up this morning, that's what it looked like outside. Sans the volcano, but double the smoke. Luckily, Erica and I were hermits today and stayed inside, where we kept cool by the window unit.

Alicia, this one's for you, courtesy of an LA Times article about the San Gabriel Mountains.

I was looking around our apartment today and realized that Erica and I are pretty much set in our respective rooms, but the rooms that we both share or that guests would spend the most time in--they are pretty much bare. Two pieces of furniture in the living room, stacks of my art stuff in the dining area/office/study space plus my drafting table and my bookshelf. Nothing on the walls. It looks like we are moving out, not moving in. Yikes. But, then again, settling in takes money. Money that we would both rather spend on food and rent than buying frames and paint. Oh the joys of being young and unemployed (don't worry, I'm working on the unemployment part).

Erica and I made chicken pesto pizza for dinner. Cost? Of dough, flour and cheese (we had everything else), grand total is...what? $7? I actually am not sure. But it wasn't much. And it was tastyyyyyyyy. We were pretty proud of ourselves. Turns out that to use our gas oven, we have to hold a match (or any open flame whatever) under the burner beneath the oven chamber. It sounds as dangerous as it is. Especially since you have to turn the gas on first, and then hold an open flame to it. Erica did it. Not me. She earned herself a battle wound of a blister.

I am now in the process of transferring legal things over to California. Car insurance, renter's insurance (whatttt???), driver's license, car registration, California plates, AAA membership--am I becoming an adult? Well, not quite yet. My parents would beg to differ. {Smile here}

Watching: August Rush. Robin Williams is creepy in this movie.