~5 from the office to the train

~3 from train to airport (but one was assisted; a decision to control either the wandering suitcase or the wandering bra strap, and a photo immortalizing that moment would have caught me lurching to the side as I shifted shoulder bag, sweater collar, and bra-strap and simultaneously tried to jerk the bag back in line before it ate a woman's shin)

~1 from door to gate

~0 from gate to plane

~2 in plane. while not moving. at all.

But the travel gods decided that all this deserved a 5 minute jaunt thru security, where I whisked thru all the lines, checkpoints, and scans in less time than it took to get my tickets online. It was fun...but frightening. It also required me to entertain myself for an extra 70 minutes, since I expected 65 of them to be used standing in line. (C'mon, it's holiday travel. Those wokers don't care how long it takes as long as you suffer.) I waste my time in line at Ben & Jerry's instead, thinking a big 'ole shake will make me happy. All the happiness was sucked out after waiting 25 minutes for one person to make 4000274 shakes before she gets to me.

Uneventful trip out there (no peanuts, but a "Ranch-flavored mix" which is really what people in tiny spaces with recycled air need) which I spent talking to my neighbor. Usually, a Frank Herbert book doesn't spark conversation. This one time when I really wanted to read, it did. Worked out well, since I seem to be able to carry on a conversation with anybody anywhere anytime. Landed, headed for SF, and realized that my cell phone, while national, had jet lag... So I turned off the phone, tossed it aside, and spent a phone-free weekend.

(You should try it sometime. It's fun.)

Drove to Napa Valley and had the good fortune of anticipating the crushes of people by about 10 minutes. Beat everybody to the best spots to buy and eat lunch, beat the traffic home, enjoyed life to the fullest, and promptly ate more food than any person should in a day. We also drove down to Monterey to visit their amazing Aquarium, where everybody should visit at least once in their lifetime...especially with a marine biologist. It's like a big playground for them! The jellyfish exhibit is beautiful and soothing and really makes me want to have a colony?/school?/swarm? of jellies in a tank at home. They're like living lava lamps, but much more fascinating. Also hit Carmel (excuse me, Carmel-by-the-sea) and waved at Pebble Beach. It's a golf course, people. It's not Mecca. Mecca is down the coast a bit, at Point Lobos, a state park that is as close to perfection as you can get. JW told me it's a must-see, and now I know why. Any picture you might take there would look...either cheesy or fake, frankly. So I didn't.

In between these jaunts out of the city, we had our car stuck in a parking garage. Basically, the attendant didn't show up for work that day and nobody, I mean nobody knew who to call to fix it. The POLICE couldn't even help. We were bitter. Incredibly bitter. We did the cable car/Lombard Street/Embarcadero/Metreon/Yerba Buena Gardens thing, but it wasn't Monterey and it was overcast. It was good, but a wee bit of a letdown. We *did* go to a cookout at a friend-of-a-friend's place, however, so that was fun. It's fun to actually *visit* a city, not just be a tourist *at* it.

There's an art to exploring a city, but the fastest and most effective way to do so is to search for a gas station, at night, on a holiday. I am quite familiar with the streets around PacBell at this point, let me tell you. I *did* avoid getting onto the Bay Bridge numerous times, but it was not something I want to repeat. (One way streets are for sissies.) The same goes for walking home after return the rental car. You'd be amazed at the vocal projection some of the homeless people have!

Flying home could have been worse. The little baby next to me was well-mannered and didn't scream like the kid up 20 rows ahead. (Oh yes, I was stuck in back. I...ugh.) He just fussed for 3.5 hours and finally fell asleep upon initial approach. It was a bit late at that point. But home is home, and home is good, and I'm glad I went and even more glad to return.

And a final bit of wisdom: double, TRIPLE-check your name when buying tickets online. Don't be a total dork and reverse your first and last names; the machines don't like it, the ticketing system doesn't like it, everything automated thinks you don't exist, and the actual airline reps think you're absolutely thick for not reading the directions. Don't let this happen to you. Don't be, well, me.

~~~~~