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Thursday . May 29 . 2003 . 2:17am (but 11:17pm Pacific time) west siiiiiiiiide! So the reason that I'm writing this entry at 2:17am is because it's actually only 11:17pm. And the reason that it's three hours earlier is because I'm on California time. And the reason that I'm on California time is because Joe and I went out for a wedding in California last Friday, stayed out there for a week, and only just got back to New York. Now that all the explaining is out of the way... California is really incredibly beautiful. I was having jealousy issues towards people who were actually lucky enough to live there, before I remembered that I'd have to drive around everywhere if we moved out to the West Coast, and would thus be dead within a week. The wedding was in Santa Cruz, but we stayed in Carmel, which I obviously an idyllic summer retreat, in that adult Disneyland kind of way. It's not really a very functional, pragmatic kind of town (unless you've found a way to subsist on oil paintings, expensive knick-knacks and Mediterranean bistro food alone), but it is of course very quaint and peaceful and Lexus commercial-y. One myth about California that was immediately dispelled during our first day in Carmel, however: California is NOT warm. I suppose it is, in the South, but Northern California can feel like the land of the ice and tundra. Our first day, I was wearing long pants, a sweater over a t-shirt, and a jacket over that, and still, I was shivering my little East Coast ass off. And then I kept wondering where all the bikini ladies were hiding out. Maybe behind those palm trees. The wedding was a nice little treat, because aside from the privilege of being included in the celebration (only my second wedding ever--the first being our own last month) we got two free dinners out of the deal. Woo, freeloading! It was a Jewish wedding, another first for me despite numerous bar/bat mitzvahs, and very beautiful, though I kept getting distracted in my own head by remembering Owen Wilson in "Meet the Parents" saying, "or as you might call it...a 'huppa?'" After the wedding, we drove up to San Francisco to spend a few days there visiting with friends. Sara and Jason were our most excellent local sponsors (and fold-out couch providers), and may I say that I have never been so graciously hosted by people our own age. Sara put out cheese and crackers on the coffee table before we arrived! On a plate! It was really something. They even let me watch the "Sorority Life" finale last night on their nice TV, and didn't complain too loudly when it ended up sucking ass. Anyway, despite the reputation that San Francisco has for not being the most warm and sunny clime early in the summer season, the weather was exceptionally cooperative for us, and we had two days of full-on blazing sunshine and warmth. Everyone there was complaining about how hot it was, but it felt pretty normal to me. I mean, it is almost June, after all. I guess usually it's ski parka season over there or something. I am very confused by the weather in that city, especially the fact that different neighborhoods can apparently have different climates at the same time. You guys need to come together and agree on a temperature. So our first day in San Francisco, Joe and I were sitting in a coffee shop in the Haight, people watching out the window, when suddenly, MICHELLE Hey, look at that guy. Doesn't he look like Tim? JOE Kinda. MICHELLE Wait, that totally looks like Tim. JOE Yeah, he really does, doesn't he? MICHELLE It is Tim. (Banging on window) TIM! TIM! TIM (The classic double-take) What the hell are you guys doing here? Our friend from medical school, who 24 hours prior had arrived in San Francisco to do some apartment hunting before starting his residency, just happened to walk by at that moment. I guess there was some kind of apartment showing or open house across the street from the coffee shop. It was really quite a coincidence, so after we had finished amusing ourselves by calling attention to that fact and referring to each other as "doctor," we parted ways and met up for drinks later that night in the North Shore region. This morning, before the airport, we met up with Coleen for breakfast. I had eggs and corn beef hash, which is one of my favorite breakfast meat-things, even though it looks like dog food. Then Joe dragged Coleen to Peet's and forced her to drink the inky brew, despite the fact that she'd already had two cups at the restaurant. Joe, to put it mildly, kind of has a thing about Peet's Coffee. He thinks it's like the blood of Christ or something. I don't know. It's pretty good, I guess, but there's some kind of freaky cult following out there on the West Coast that makes me wonder what they put in there. My only complaint for our flight back East is that they showed the same in-flight movies as they did on the way out West. (I still can't believe I watched "Two Weeks Notice." So...unclean. [Scrubbing] The dirt isn't coming off!) I mean, could they not conceive of the fact that people on that first flight out may indeed decide to fly back at some point? The same damn thing happened four years ago when I flew out to LA, except that time it was "Shakespeare in Love." Also, I don't know if the seats in Coach have been getting smaller or what, but I'm a pretty petite person, and even I was having problems fitting into my slot. I can't believe flying used to be this glamorous thing that people would dress up for. Back in New York, the weather is nice. It's past 1:00am and young hipsters are out in the streets wearing shorts and no jackets. They turned on the air-conditioning in our building, which I'm sure will be a merciful thing once the sun comes out tomorrow. (Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun.) What once was a monstrously large pile of mail to sort through has now become a cataclysmically huge monolith of mail that threatens to bury us in our sleep. Tomorrow, we go back to the dog spa to pick up our hell hound and see what new skin diseases she's picked up. I'm sick of traveling. I want to sleep in my own bed and vegetate on my own damn couch and pet my neglected dog. Yet, we have to fly back west next week, To Colorado this time, for yet another wedding. Can't we not and just say that we did? xo Michelle |
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