My San Diego: We're pushing back guest blogging features until next week when we can give them their due

*Next week we will be back with guest bloggers contributing perspectives on their San Diego, but this week we're taking a break, what with the crazy changes in schedule and all. Instead I'll share a bit of my own fire story. Tomorrow RACHELLE IN THE CITY will tell us all about her week so far, fire and all.*

My San Diego is reading all about these fires and checking in with those that I love and care about. My San Diego is quick with the humor and quicker with the responses to it's state of emergency. My San Diego is all over the news but knows that it deserves more than just a passing "have you heard about all that going on in San Diego?"

I believe San Diego will recover much quicker then people expect. I know there will be many stories of hope and love and survival and probably a few stories that are sad and heart wrenching. The massive inundation of news media will not overwhelm San Diego (even though it's starting to overwhelm others) and people will keep their positive attitudes and "California" mentality.

Lori is back at work (a good worker she is, she worked any way while glued to her television at home). Vanessa checks in from PB and says "just like PB, people are still going out, still meeting up with their friends." Rachelle has sent in her article for this week and it's about more then just a fire, it's all about her new home. Maybe it remains fire week (we cover the news and the news covers the fire) but I'm telling you, San Diego bounces (I've seen it before).

In 2003 I was confronted with the "what are you going to pack at a moments notice?" question. Though I felt safe in my home in Clairemont, worry was all over my (at the time) boyfriend's face. And then we got word that the fire had jumped the freeway right by our house, that others were leaving and that we might just want to water down the area around our house.

"Pack" he said. "Figure out what to take."

I thought about it. My life wasn't the clothes, the dishes, the pictures (which, thanks to digital cameras were all stored online). So I packed what I needed, a toothbrush, my Sex and The City DVD's and my computer.

"That's it?!" He was frantic. How was he going to fit EVERYTHING in to the car? How would he leave his books and movies and carpets and mugs behind?

"That's it," I said. I watched him stressing out in the living room, huffing and hyperventilating. I walked over to him and hugged him tightly. "It's just stuff," I whispered. "Fire is cleansing," I said. "In my tribe, when something is over, when it's done, we burn it, we let it go."

We hugged for a while longer and waited for news over the television, we waited long into the night but they managed to get things under control. The next day we went to lunch in PB (where the air felt a little cleaner) and we wore masks and saw ash gathering on the streets like snow. It was almost like... a new day.