This final installment is probably the most boring because I worked nearly non-stop.
Nearly. And then I went on vacation. More on that soon – honest.
Third stop: San Francisco
I packed for cool, rainy weather. Naturally neither condition materialized. But I’m not complaining.
While I was in SF, I met Tommy Lee. He was very nice and is, apparently, quite the foodie.*
I’m writing this as I wait for my twice-delayed flight from SFO to JFK. If there is any luck in this word, I’ll be back in NYC as you read this.
But anything’s possible. As long as I’m home in time for The Bachelorette Monday night, no one gets hurt.
“What time is your flight?” Carolyn asked me
“10:45. But…I have to check a bag”
The faces of two horrified friends–Carolyn plus Morgan–stared back at me. I felt ashamed.
“I know. I don’t usually check a bag but this time…I…I just grabbed the wrong suitcase. I have four of them.”
Silence.
I fiddled with my wine glass and then continued.
“Recently my trips have been short ones so i have been talking my half-size wheelie bag.”
Stares.
“My suitcases are usually stored like nesting dolls. I grabbed the wrong bag and it was too big to carry on. I didn’t realize until I got to security at LGA and they sent me back to Ticketing.”
My friends nodded, but unconvincingly. At this point that I realized the extent of my friends’ disapproval. I may be shunned.
My fall from travel grace is complete.
* * *
I’m just back from a long business/pleasure trip to Chicago and San Francisco. As a result I have zero (!) blog posts scheduled. Bear with me.
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“No, Mom. Not at all,” I paused.
“Actually there was one solo trip that was awful but it was a four-day conference in Las Vegas and my hotel wasn’t very nice. Vegas is a terrible place to be alone.”
I quickly regretted telling the truth. My mother–who I adore–would surely remember the vulnerability I just exposed every time I boarded a plane in the future, peppering me with questions about loneliness.
Sigh. Mom was still the master. Would I ever learn?
* * *
The trip had been a long one. Two days started when the alarm sounded at 5:30 am. I am not a morning person.
On this trip, I spent one day in particular feeling out of sorts. I didn’t know what constituted appropriate attire for this work event and ultimately, I chose wrong. Worse, my clothes seemed too tight. I didn’t like what I saw each time I caught sight of my reflection.
I felt old. And I was in fact older than some of the colleagues in attendance. Some of them were of the smug married variety in spite of being younger than me.
Self doubt had me squirming for a good five hours straight. I couldn’t wait to be alone with no one looking at my dumb outfit or my bad hair day.
When the event ended, I was free to head back to my hotel. But soon after I got in my rental car, I took a detour.
I drove due west until I arrived at cliffs overlooking the Pacific coast.
At the end of my recent California trip, I flew home via Virgin America. Had I known that the airline’s terminal at SFO was so great, I might have skipped dinner!
Everything from charcuterie to gourmet cheese to fancy cupcakes.
I wish more airports had shops like Napa Farms Market.
Related:
I went to California again. For work (again). First I caught Linsanity in Sacramento.
My luggage avoided joining this art installation by baggage claim. That’s a relief!
After some biz-ness, I drove to San Francisco perhaps the only U.S. city more expensive than NYC.
The hills freak me out to some extent. This one is steeper than the picture indicates. Trust me, ok?
Hilton Financial District, San Francisco
1875 watts? Surely you jest. More like someone with hot breath blowing on my curls and maybe making them shimmy a little.
Conair, more like a con in this case. It’s SF so my hair already sucked, but for $300+ per night, I’d like a real hair dryer, Hilton.
Or not.
The people staying in my San Francisco hotel *might* be having more fun than me.
Photo taken at the open-air gift shop, smack-dab in the middle of the lobby where everyone can see. Just to make me feel bad maybe.
OneChicklette 
