I love this time of the year. It’s blazing-hot-can’t-wear-anything-other-than-flip-flops weather, but all the new Fall boots are coming out.

And I love me some boots. More than I love any other kind of shoe. Or (gasp!) handbag, for that matter. I wear them almost every single day. There’s something sexy about jeans and boots with a T-shirt or sweater.

Which is why I bought these…

MICHAEL Michael Kors Lattington Bootie

They’re a pre-order, but will be here a couple of days before my birthday next month. Ah, maybe turning 39 won’t be so bad after all….

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. —U.S. Constitution, First Amendment

First, let me say that I don’t intend this to be a political post. (But…right?) But read those words carefully. Celebrate those words.

Sometimes I think we take it for granted that here in the U.S. we can write what we want and read what we want without fear of reprisal. I can have this blog that talks about nothing in particular, and I don’t have to censor what I say (unless I choose to do so). I can surf the internet freely, read any newspaper I choose and buy more books than I can ever read in my lifetime.

I just read an article online about China doing an about-face and declaring that, in spite of their promise to commit to freedom of the press, it will censor and block the internet during the Olympics. They intend to block sites that don’t fully support their communist rhetoric. It’s disgusting and it’s disgraceful. (This last sentence would get me arrested if I lived in the People’s Republic.)

In October/November 2007, my husband and I had the opportunity to go to China for a couple of weeks. It wasn’t high on our list of Must See Places (hello? Tuscany?), but it was a fairly inexpensive, all-inclusive organized tour—a too good to pass up, once-in-a-lifetime experience. A few of our best friends came along as well, so we were pretty excited about going. It was a good time to go there, too. It was the beginning of the rainy season so we didn’t have any smog (I swear they were the only two smog-free days all year), and since it was less than a year before the Olympics, we had the chance to see some of the new venues they built.

We hit four cities in 10 days—Beijing, Hangzhou, Suzhou and Shanghai. We stayed in Beijing for the first two days. In those 48 hours we saw The Forbidden City, the Imperial Palace, the Summer Palace, Tiananmen Square and the Great Wall of China. I can’t even explain how incredible it was to hike up the Great Wall (that may be another post). But it makes me sad to say that I could have skipped the rest of Beijing.

At the base of The Great Wall

As beautiful and historic as the sights were, it was a dreary, miserable place. It was exactly as you would think a communist capital would be. I felt uncomfortable and we were definitely watched. I know that sounds paranoid, but they were clearly keeping an eye on us. In fact, the State Department warned that the police routinely place foreign visitors under surveillance, that hotel rooms, telephones, and fax machines will probably be monitored, and personal possessions in hotel rooms, including computers, may be searched without your consent or knowledge. Big Brother was watching.

That is, until we were walking into The Forbidden City and a man reached out and smacked me on the back of the head because he thought I was the blond devil (how could he know that so quickly?!). Suddenly, no one was watching. Apparently, I should have been forbidden from that city.

But as soon as we traveled farther south, the feeling of oppression lifted. Hangzhou and Suzhou were stunning. Hangzhou is full of beautiful pagodas and tea plantations. Driving through you could almost picture yourself in Napa Valley (except instead of wineries there were acres of tea). Suzhou was positively charming. It’s famous for its silk, and the city is built around canals—just like Venice (Italy or California. Take your pick!).

Laughing Buddha at the Lingyin Temple (Hangzhou)

I wish we had more time in Shanghai. I have never seen such a vibrant place. It’s one of the most populated cities in China. It’s under the control of Beijing, but because it’s a port city, it’s incredibly cosmopolitan. I have never seen so many cars, people and buildings crammed into tight spaces. And the neon! Vegas has nothing on Shanghai in that department. My husband has a former co-worker who moved back there, and we spent an evening with her. It was such a different experience. I think we really got the real flavor of the city that night.

The Lingering Garden (Suzhou)

I’m glad we went, but it was frustrating because we did not see anything that they didn’t want us to see. We were on a tight schedule and they herded us from place to place with no deviation. And it wasn’t because they wanted to make sure we saw everything we paid for. One afternoon, we were on the bus traveling from Beijing to Hangzhou and the bus driver (shout-out to Mr. Gow!) thought he could take a short cut. Instead, we ended up on a dirt road through what you could call a shantytown in the middle of an open-air market. The guide was mortified and could not get us out of there fast enough. Our breakfasts, lunches and dinners were all scheduled, so we didn’t even have the opportunity to wander the streets and taste the flavors of the cities. Frankly, I’m surprised they let us leave with our local friend, but after the guide spoke with her on the phone I guess he trusted that she wasn’t going to take us anywhere deemed inappropriate.

It’s a shame that the Chinese government keeps the people so sequestered, so locked away from the rest of the world, because for the most part we found people to be friendly, polite and curious. It’s a country stunningly rich with culture and history. It’s the most populous nation in the world with a rapidly growing economy, and although it’s less restrictive than before, for a country that thinks in terms of dynasties, not decades, it’s got a long way to go. It’s saddens me that they’re politicizing the Olympics (although it’s not the first country and won’t be the last to do so) and limiting/controlling the way the world covers it.

I am not political. I avoid talking about politics and I certainly don’t write about politics. I don’t care if you’re a Democrat, Republican, flaming liberal or Right Winger. This isn’t about Left or Right. To me it’s about right and wrong. It’s about having the freedom to express an idea out loud, on paper or online. I have been making my living with words for the past 16 years and I can’t imagine not being able to do so. I can’t fathom a life of censorship.

Corny as it sounds, I am privileged to live in America, a country that not only allows you to say what you want but encourages you to say it. Out loud. On paper. Or online.

When you live in Southern California—or anywhere in California, really—you live with the very real possibility that at any given time, at any moment, the earth is going to shake like Jello. There’s no warning. Most of the time you don’t think about it. Most of the time you don’t really need to think about it. And, to me, it’s safer (maybe that’s not the right word) than living in a hurricane zone or Tornado alley, where the disasters happen seasonally instead of occasionally, but that’s small consolation when one of these suckers hit.

About 45 minutes ago we had a 5.8 magnitude earthquake. (UPDATE: It was downgraded to a 5.4. But still…) Quakes never really bothered me because I grew up in California. But I gotta tell you, after living through the Northridge earthquake in 1994, they never cease to scare the living shit out of me. You never know if it’s going to be The Big One. It’s worse when it hits in the middle of night.

In 1994 I lived in Koreatown—before it was cool to live there—in a building built in 1926. It was an awesome place (1300 square feet for $600!) but I doubt it was up to code. The jolt was so hard that parts of the building’s facade fell off, and the top floor was condemned. (I was sooo glad I moved from the 7th to the 4th floors about 4 months before that.) It hit in the early morning when it was still dark. At the time I wore contacts and couldn’t find my glasses (they were knocked off my nightstand)—and consequently, couldn’t find any shoes— so, totally blind, I had to grope my way down four floors over glass and all kinds of debris. At some point everyone made their way back to their apartments to see the damage and it wasn’t a pretty sight. I was fairly lucky—a few overturned bookcases and some broken glasses.

For a few weeks the aftershocks were relentless—5.4, 5.8 and even a couple of 6.0s thrown in for good measure—in case we forgot what a bitch Mother Nature could be. I think I slept fully dressed (including shoes) for three months after that.

The one this morning wasn’t nearly as bad. It started out like a steady roll, slowed down and the building rocking and rolling for at least a minute (which in real time feels like 10). But if you’ve been through a substantial earthquake you never really lose that fear. You pause for a minute and brace yourself just in case.

Once you assess the situation (damage? no damage?), you wait. You wonder if that was a fore-shock to something much bigger, or if that’s it.

I’ve missed Kate Hutton, though!

UPDATE: “There is a 5 percent chance that today’s earthquake was a foreshock to a much larger quake that could occur in the next three days, according to the USGS.”

Time to pack up all the breakables…

Three coats of paint later, my bathroom looks horrible. I started with what should have been a slate blue but once I got it on the wall, it looked nothing like the paint chip. Fortunately, I saw a cool paint that I wanted to try and bought a gallon of it even thought I wasn’t sure where I was going to use it. I layered it over the blue and I finally like the color. It’s sort of a groovy textured paint with a bit of metallic shimmer (thank you Ralph Lauren Vista Blue Suede).

But for some reason, this was a messy event. I could not edge the paint and keep it off the ceiling to save my life. So, of course, now I have to repaint the ceiling.

Ugh. Tomorrow is another day.

I’m addicted to design shows on HGTV. Most people don’t know that about me. I love, love, love watching those before-and-after shows. (I also spend the GNP of a small country on design/home magazines on a monthly basis.) Not so much shows like “Extreme Makeover Home Edition,” although I will watch that because I like a good cry. I also can’t watch “Trading Spaces” anymore because I hate watching Hildy cardboard someone’s baby nursery or lacquer their mattress. That’s not design, that’s just mean.

I’m more into shows like “Divine Design,” “Color Splash” and “Myles of Style.” I am fascinated by these designers who can walk into a home and size it up right away and know what to fix and how. I think I have a pretty decent sense of style and have done a pretty good job furnishing and decorating my house. I haven’t done anything too outrageous, extravagant or luxurious, but I’ve been told more than once that people feel comfortable and at home here. I’d like to think that means it’s a cozy place to come in, sit down and put your feet up—not that it’s a pig sty overrun with dog-hair tumbleweeds the size of puppies.

Our house is 23 years old and we’ve been there for nine. It was pretty much the worst house on the block when we bought it. We’ve done a few things to maintain it—new roof, painted the exterior—but I still have a wish list of things I want to do. Some items are as simple as retouching the paint in the hallway, and other items are as expensive and as extreme as renovating the kitchen. Periodically, we rearrange the furniture or swap the guest room with the office with the den.

Over the past couple of months we’ve been chiseling away at that list. Once we got the dog totally housebroken, we replaced the carpet (God, it was like moving again. Packing two rooms worth of books was a massive undertaking. My back still hurts). Last week we had a box light ripped out of the guest bathroom and recessed lighting installed in its place. This weekend I plan to repaint that bathroom. Right now it’s a sweet periwinkle blue and I want to repaint with a cooler slate blue. Ideally, I’d like to pull down that counter-length mirror and add a couple of framed mirrors over the sink, but I haven’t yet found what I’m looking for. Next week we’re going to have someone come and scrape that popcorn crap off the ceiling. I can’t wait because it will totally transform the house. I’m dreading that mess, though.

I watch these shows and take copious notes: “That’s an interesting way to fix that.” Or “Wow, I love that color. I wonder if that’ll work in our bedroom.” If Bill walks in while I’m watching, he groans because he knows it means we’re about to move something, paint something or knock holes in walls. Most of the time he’ll go along with it, but our biggest conflict comes over paint. He’s totally a white wall kind of guy. He likes the clean, bright look of white walls. I want to add color. I want to add warmth. I started to break him in gently, painting both bathrooms with soft colors. A few months ago, I really pushed the envelope and painted a hallway a lovely, rich chocolate brown. Bill loved it so much that we painted a wall in the family room.

Every now and then I consider doing something totally outrageous like turning a bathroom into a library—with bookcases, books, the works. Get it? Okay, something like that may work in a house with 12 bathrooms not 2, but I do think it’s important to add fun touches, to put your personality into your home—whether you own, rent or live in an apartment. Some friends of ours have a big, beautiful house that’s impeccebly decorated. But it’s not comfortable; it doesn’t feel lived in. My best friend lives in an apartment and it’s one of the most homey places I know.

I can’t wait to get started this weekend. I have a big Friday night planned—at Lowe’s. I have paint chips selected. I have mirror shopping scheduled. And I may even splurge on a new paint roller! If I’m really lucky, Bill will put on his tool belt. (Read into that what you will.)