I spent the weekend in California. California is 60-70 degrees warmer than Philadelphia right now.
It was--hands down--the best weekend I've had in a reaaaaally looooong time.
Here's the stupid part: Ron has the same set of meetings in San Jose every February. This has been going on for years. And this is the FIRST year that I've gone with him.
|It had been nine hours since we had eaten anything. Even though this place is a tourist trap--I doubt anyone would tell you to go here for the food--I thought, "Let's eat here, avoid the center of town, see the ocean, and then back in the car to find the elusive Sunset District that I could NOT find last time." There was a thirty minute wait for a table. Ugh.|
|So we waited outside, and we just stared. at the water. for the thirty solid minutes. and never said a word. Let me tell you: it was the best thing we could've done after 7 hours on a plane. I think it was the most memorable part of the day.|
|(This would make great fabric.)|
|It took thirty minutes ....|
|... for this freighter to come off the horizon and disappear around the corner to the Golden Gate Bridge.|
|I can't imagine ever looking out these windows and not shrieking in my head, "IT'S THE PACIFIC OCEAN!!!! OMGGGGGGG!!!!"|
|I had an omelet (and coffee and a diet coke and water) and Ron had fish and chips. Oh that fried fish--pretty amazing.|
|How many times can I take this picture?|
I'm not even sure what happened after we got to Santa Rosa. It took nearly two hours to drive the fifty miles there. I have foggy memories of being in a CVS and buying a box of Jujubes (can't find them at home anymore), a bag of caramel cremes (wrapped in Easter colored wrappers), and three ginormous bottles of water. Ron kept talking about a tooth brush. And I wanted to buy a bunch of those Our Lady of Guadelupe cylinder candles that people light on the sidewalk when someone has died there. (None wound up in my suitcase so I guess I put them down.) And that's it. And Anthony Bourdain was on the TV in the hotel room. And then I just couldn't take one more minute of the fluid in my ears vibrating for the fifteenth straight hour from the plane, and my teeth hurting from exhaustion, and finally it all just went black.
(In California, it takes 3-4 hours to really feel the jet lag. In Europe, you feel it the whole damn first day you're there.)
(Also, how do pilots do it? There is no WAY that flying is good for you. It's one of the most unnatural things that the human body could be forced to do. No way it's healthy or even just "neutral" or whatever. You are not supposed to be that high up in the air for hours at a time, in a vibrating tin can, with no humidity, and fake air pressure. Forget the recycled air and all the germs, we won't even go that far. Who would sign up for that job?)
Jet lag was gone the next morning, and that was good because it was 72 degrees and sunny and we had a Platypus tour to do ...