I wish I had seen it as a priority to take pictures of my backyard this weekend.

It doesn’t happen often, but when it rains in Santa Barbara, man, it rains.

Our side yard was completely flooded, and the water was running down the hill from my neighbor’s yard onto our already flooded patio.

I am not a big fan of my neighbor, the Schlitzer’s.

It’s a long story, stemming from a fruit trade (peaches for oranges) gone wrong in the summer of 2009 (seriously).

I guess the rain is not their fault, though.

Anyway, it is so funny what happens in Santa Barbara when it rains. People are really derailed by it. You ask them, “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, you know, it was awful. The weather was terrible.”

And you know what, regrettably, I say the same damn thing.

I don’t know.  You get used to the sun, I guess.  You get used to waking up and seeing the clear blue sky and drinking coffee on your back porch and looking forward to the drive to work along the ocean.

I mean, when it rains, we have to live like the rest of the country.

I’m not being a jerk.

I’m just saying, I don’t know if I’d make it back East anymore.