In good news, the people I know down there -- setsuled and my cousin Sean -- are OK so far, though they know evacuees. (Sean's office is within sight of Qualcomm Stadium; he mentioned seeing the people gathering there, as well as horses being kept in a soccer field next to the stadium.)
And in annoying news, I nearly got hit by a car yesterday. After work I had walked off the hill where my hospital is located, and was waiting to cross SW Barbur Blvd. at Hooker Street. Walkers have a signal, cars don't; I did see a small SUV waiting to turn left onto Barbur southbound, and I made sure to move faster through the crosswalk so I'd be out of the car's way more quickly, but the driver jumped the gun (conveniently forgetting that WALKERS HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY THERE, DAMNIT) and she nearly steered into me. I had to jump aside slightly to avoid getting hit, and she and I locked eyes, and she gave me the stink-eye like it was my fault. I gestered (with my arms, not a finger) and yelled, "WALK!!! GOD!!!" -- think Ratzo Rizzo crossed with Napoleon Dynamite, that's probably what I looked like -- as she powered away, rather fast I think. Dogs started barking. The people walking those dogs were wide-eyed. "Get her number!" one woman yelled, but by then the car was too far away for me to have a hope of catching the license plate. I reached the sidewalk and paused, and that woman worked on calming her dog while she and I commiserated. I laughed a bit about it, but I was mad.
I'm a careful walker. I was careful there. The driver wasn't. Cold comfort to know that had I been hit, I'd've had plenty of witnesses to it being the driver's fault, stink-eye notwithstanding, but I'd have to be injured to make that point, and I'm glad I'm not.