Hey kids,
We haven't done a Thursday 13 in a while, so I thought we could do a quick rundown (Jim: Hey dude, you know what a "rundown" is? Oscar: Use it in a sentence.) of the last 13 child-free days that I have had to endure mostly without you.
Day 1: March 31
This was a busy day as I had a doctor's appointment at 10:30 a.m. all the way in Carson, then had to rush up the hill to work out the rest of my work day. Tried to get away a little early, but of course had a last-minute project pop up that kept me at my desk until 5:30 p.m. So Wavy and I were a bit late getting out of town and on the road. You slept a good portion of the way, and we made it all the way to Stockton by about 10 p.m. I had previously had aspirations of taking you to Spaghetti Factory, but that was before Little Mister Thing called up at work at 3:30 and made me finish up one of his projects. So we wound up going to about the only establishment open at that hour. Mickey D's.
The motel room sketched you out a bit, but you soon warmed up to it. Since you had slept so long in the car, you weren't sleepy, and we wound up watching CNN until the wee hours.
Day 2: April 1
Jumped back in the car first thing, drove the remaining hour and a half or so to Grandma's, dropped you off and headed for Santa Cruz. Got my hotel room, took a nap and waited for Auntie L to get off work and meet up with me.
The show was lovely. Here are the deets, courtesy of a poster designed by MOI.
EDIT TO ADD... I know. You're thinking it. I'm thinking it. My kerning is atrocious. I'm better than that. Oh well. All I can do is pick up the pieces and move on.
A couple weeks prior, I had emailed this poster idea to David and to their assistant manager, with a note saying they could use it if they wanted to. David emailed back and said it was a great poster, but I was too late. And (!) just to send my poster earlier next time, and they will "definitely use it." Whoot! But then when we got to the show, their asst manager (you remember her, the nice gal I got lost with in Truckee, much to her annoyance) told me that they had indeed used the poster and that it was hanging all over Santa Cruz. I just wish that I had been able to snap a photo of it in situ. Ah well. Is it too early to put "official Cracker/Camper poster designer" on my resume?
Laurie got me good and drunk at the show. It really doesn't take that much to get me tipsy anymore. Had a great time. Great music. Johnny, as always... very spank-worthy. Here's a photo that captures him in all his spank-worthiness:
Gotta love those crappy cell phone photos.
Auntie L and I had a late late late dinner at Santa Cruz Diner and she spent the night with me in the room.
Day 3: April 2
L and I spent the day together, beachcombing at Pescadero Beach...
and lunching in Half Moon Bay...
L took off back home around 6-ish, so I left my hotel room and walked out to the end of the wharf (probably about a mile) and got a shrimp and crab sammie to bring back to the room to eat whilst watching the ER finale. About halfway back, I felt something in my shoe. I sat down to take a look, and much to my horror found the world's largest bleeding blister on my left foot. I lurched and hobbled my way to the nearest tourist bodega and spent $16 on a tube of neosporin, some tape and a roll of bandage. Teach me to hike around town in dress shoes. Back at the hotel, I administered first aid upon myself, ate my delicious sammie and was underwhelmed by ER.
Day 4: April 3
Took off for Monterey. I've been to Monterey before, but mostly just the Aquarium. So all I know of the town is the road connecting the freeway to the Aquarium. Trying to navigate around the rest of the town, I found myself in the middle of some of the most horrific and trying traffic I have ever encountered. Monterey is definitely not a sleepy little seaside community.
Checked in at the hotel, caught up on some email, rebandaged the bottom of my foot, headed for the club.
Small, intimate venue with limited seating. Ran into Johnny at the bar, managed to smile and blurt out something incomprehensible. He indulged me as if I was a retarded homeless person who had wandered into the venue. Or maybe that's just how I perceived the encounter. Anyway.
Entertained the thought of making the drive to Sebastopol the next day to catch the final show of the tour, even though it wasn't on my agenda. Thought about it long and hard, but finally decided against it, mostly because of the three-hour drive involved, some of it right through San Francisco. Ugh. And also because I was already paid up for one more night in the Monterey hotel.
Day 5: April 4
Slept in late. Showered. Re-visited the notion of driving to Sebastopol. Re-abandoned the notion. Went and saw a movie (Nic Cage in the laughable throwaway "Knowing"), caught up on some phone calls, hopped on 17 Mile Drive and took a walk on the beach, took all the requisite tourist photos:
Went back to the hotel, ordered a buttload of sushi from the hotel restaurant, spent the rest of the evening watching Braveheart and the Sex and the City movie on cable.
Day 6: April 5
Drove back to San Jose. It was a lot closer than I thought. An hour and change. Stopped off at Grandma's, where both you kids, Daddy, the great-grandparents and an aunt from Arkansas, and assorted other relatives were infesting the middling-sized house. I grabbed a quick kid fix before heading home. Waverly was glad to see me and wouldn't leave my side, but Jakob started asking me when I was going to leave as soon as he saw me walk in the door. You were afraid that I was there to take you home, you little shit. "When are ya going home, Momma? When are you leaving? Are you going home now?" If I was a lesser person, I would've started taking it personally. You relaxed a bit when you were finally convinced that I wasn't there to tear you from the bosom of your extended family, and I actually got a big kiss and a hug goodbye. Stopped off downtown and bought some Vietnamese dollar sammies and I was on my way home to G-Ville.
Okay. I'll finish this up tomorrow. Or later today. It's late. Love you both. Miss you. Miss you miss you miss you.
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