Of airplanes and animal-style burgers.
Oh! Hello there. Nice to see you again.
Yes, it's been a minute since you've last heard from me. Whether you missed me or wish I'd gone a little longer without giving you the lyrical poetry that is my writing--I'm very sorry. But if you wish I didn't post so much, why would you be reading? I must, therefore, assume that if you are reading this, you longed for my next post and are having fits of joy over this one!
You're so nice. :)
As I mentioned not too long ago when I gave you the picture of a goat as a teaser to our amazing California vacation, I told you I've been pretty busy. Normally, that's a sad excuse for all sorts of things, but for this blog and my lack of posts? Totally valid.
Erego, feeling no need to justify my long absence from the intertubs, I move on to telling you about,
The first part of any vacation, really, is the anticipation of the trip. I began pre-planning outfits months in advance. I day-dreamed about frolicking in vineyards while sipping fine California wines; laying on the Pacific sands being totally cool and hip; lounging at the pool at our delightful hosts' house; hiking through Yosemite and spotting a bear that would become my friend instead of eating me; laughing joyously as we 5 sit around sharing stories and fine meals--all while being impeccably dressed and charming. (I'm always charming in my imagination.)
Such musings were all I had to hold me over until April 19th would arrive. But, Lo and behold!, the days and weeks passed and vacation time was finally upon us!
Our plane was due to fly out of JAX at 7:00 Friday morning. We chose Jacksonville because a) it was cheaper than Tallahassee (even accounting for the gas we'd spend to get to Jax and back) and, b) Patrick's cousin Josh, who was joining us on this adventure, lives in Jacksonville.
Thursday afternoon, then, we get off work early and finish our packing. I spent roughly 45 minutes of my packing time trying to rationalize why I should or should not bring my favorite boots. I spent another 45 minutes trying to decide which 4 shirts to pack. And, naturally, I had to try on each outfit I was considering. And then decide on accessories.
By the time I was done packing, I'm pretty sure I managed to get a mild cardio workout whipping in and out of shirts, skirts, pants, shorts and shoes. It wasn't that I was sweaty; no, no. It's just that all that quick-change work made me more slippery than usual.
Patrick, on the other hand, was packed in about 3.5 minutes.
We had been participating in a Thursday evening class at church, and the evening before our flight was the final class. We hadn't missed one yet, so we were determined not to miss this last one. Class ended and we hit the road to Jax about 8:00.
We roll into town about 10:30-10:45 and crash about an hour later. Being the thoughtful and kind host that he is, Josh not only gave up his bed and took the couch, he also got the coffee set and ready to roll for our much needed caffeine boost when our alarms would go off at 4:00 the next morning.
And 4am sure did come fast. Zombie-like, I stumbled around doing my best to fix my hair (which needed a wash, but there no way on God's green earth was I going to try to blowdry my hair that early), bumping into door frames, and putting on some makeup.
In the back of my mind I was thinking about those people who say, "Back in my day, people used to dress to travel! It was something special!" I think that is what gave me the motivation to apply mascara and blush and a reasonably adorable outfit--that and the thought of stepping off a plane on the West Coast looking like a bedraggled, washed-out looking old thing. (What if they have a camera and take a picture of us as soon as they see us? I need to at least try a little, here!)
I finally stumbled out of the bathroom, bleary-eyed (but at least I had mascara now) ready for that cuppa coffee I knew was coming my way. Unfortunately, Josh added roughly 3 times as many coffee grounds as he needed for the amount of water, which resulted in coffee grittier than any hip, Indie movie you've ever seen.
That got dumped out (sadly) and Josh tried again. Round 2 was slightly less failure-y than the first round. Stubbornly, Josh poured a cup and tried to drink it. The coffee grounds were floating in the coffee, but it was far less sludgy this time. Patrick and I were not so brave, and decided to just start blowing our vacation money early by getting some Starbucks at the airport.
Our ride to the airport showed up about 4:45 in the form of Aunt Cindy's manfriend Dave--a gentleman and a hero. Aunt Cindy is Josh's mom, and this was the second time Dave had done Patrick and me the favor of taking us to the airport in the wee hours of the morn. He also helped us out like that when we left for our honeymoon.
We arrived at the airport, checked-in, got some Starbucks (such overrated coffee!), and before too long, boarded the plane. It left at 7:00am.
There was a stop at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, where we ate what is generously called "breakfast" at the Chile's in the airport. Patrick and I ordered the same thing; Josh rolled his eyes. I gave him grief for that--friendly grief, not "miserable old hag" grief. And despite the fact that Chile's should never be a place you eat breakfast, I still ate a remarkable quantity of flapjacks.
Vacation calories don't count. Don't judge me.
A little while later, our second leg of the trip was under way. From Dallas, we were headed to Fresno. I certainly don't claim to be a geography expert of any kind, but I'm pretty sure we flew over Area 51.
See those circles in the desert? Yeah, you don't think humans did that, do you? I think not. The obvious answer is: aliens. So, obviously, this was Area 51.
If you can get over the shock of absolute proof of alien life forms, allow me to jump ahead to the best moment of the trip--LANDING ON CALIFORNIA SOIL!
Oh, sweet Jesus, thank you for letting us land safely!, we thought. We were so excited to
a) stand up so we didn't die from blood clots,
b) stretch our legs,
c) get off that stinkin' plane, and
d) see Bruce and Kristin!
As the three of us walked out of the terminal, I spied two people in the distance holding poster board signs. "Is that Bruce and Kristin?!" I asked. We got closer, and the blond girl started jumping up and down, and the guy was waving his sign side to side.
"Yep! That's them!"
Yes, it's been a minute since you've last heard from me. Whether you missed me or wish I'd gone a little longer without giving you the lyrical poetry that is my writing--I'm very sorry. But if you wish I didn't post so much, why would you be reading? I must, therefore, assume that if you are reading this, you longed for my next post and are having fits of joy over this one!
You're so nice. :)
As I mentioned not too long ago when I gave you the picture of a goat as a teaser to our amazing California vacation, I told you I've been pretty busy. Normally, that's a sad excuse for all sorts of things, but for this blog and my lack of posts? Totally valid.
Erego, feeling no need to justify my long absence from the intertubs, I move on to telling you about,
Part I of our Totally Tubular
California Vacation!
The first part of any vacation, really, is the anticipation of the trip. I began pre-planning outfits months in advance. I day-dreamed about frolicking in vineyards while sipping fine California wines; laying on the Pacific sands being totally cool and hip; lounging at the pool at our delightful hosts' house; hiking through Yosemite and spotting a bear that would become my friend instead of eating me; laughing joyously as we 5 sit around sharing stories and fine meals--all while being impeccably dressed and charming. (I'm always charming in my imagination.)
Such musings were all I had to hold me over until April 19th would arrive. But, Lo and behold!, the days and weeks passed and vacation time was finally upon us!
Our plane was due to fly out of JAX at 7:00 Friday morning. We chose Jacksonville because a) it was cheaper than Tallahassee (even accounting for the gas we'd spend to get to Jax and back) and, b) Patrick's cousin Josh, who was joining us on this adventure, lives in Jacksonville.
Thursday afternoon, then, we get off work early and finish our packing. I spent roughly 45 minutes of my packing time trying to rationalize why I should or should not bring my favorite boots. I spent another 45 minutes trying to decide which 4 shirts to pack. And, naturally, I had to try on each outfit I was considering. And then decide on accessories.
By the time I was done packing, I'm pretty sure I managed to get a mild cardio workout whipping in and out of shirts, skirts, pants, shorts and shoes. It wasn't that I was sweaty; no, no. It's just that all that quick-change work made me more slippery than usual.
Patrick, on the other hand, was packed in about 3.5 minutes.
We had been participating in a Thursday evening class at church, and the evening before our flight was the final class. We hadn't missed one yet, so we were determined not to miss this last one. Class ended and we hit the road to Jax about 8:00.
We roll into town about 10:30-10:45 and crash about an hour later. Being the thoughtful and kind host that he is, Josh not only gave up his bed and took the couch, he also got the coffee set and ready to roll for our much needed caffeine boost when our alarms would go off at 4:00 the next morning.
And 4am sure did come fast. Zombie-like, I stumbled around doing my best to fix my hair (which needed a wash, but there no way on God's green earth was I going to try to blowdry my hair that early), bumping into door frames, and putting on some makeup.
In the back of my mind I was thinking about those people who say, "Back in my day, people used to dress to travel! It was something special!" I think that is what gave me the motivation to apply mascara and blush and a reasonably adorable outfit--that and the thought of stepping off a plane on the West Coast looking like a bedraggled, washed-out looking old thing. (What if they have a camera and take a picture of us as soon as they see us? I need to at least try a little, here!)
I finally stumbled out of the bathroom, bleary-eyed (but at least I had mascara now) ready for that cuppa coffee I knew was coming my way. Unfortunately, Josh added roughly 3 times as many coffee grounds as he needed for the amount of water, which resulted in coffee grittier than any hip, Indie movie you've ever seen.
That got dumped out (sadly) and Josh tried again. Round 2 was slightly less failure-y than the first round. Stubbornly, Josh poured a cup and tried to drink it. The coffee grounds were floating in the coffee, but it was far less sludgy this time. Patrick and I were not so brave, and decided to just start blowing our vacation money early by getting some Starbucks at the airport.
Our ride to the airport showed up about 4:45 in the form of Aunt Cindy's manfriend Dave--a gentleman and a hero. Aunt Cindy is Josh's mom, and this was the second time Dave had done Patrick and me the favor of taking us to the airport in the wee hours of the morn. He also helped us out like that when we left for our honeymoon.
We arrived at the airport, checked-in, got some Starbucks (such overrated coffee!), and before too long, boarded the plane. It left at 7:00am.
There was a stop at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, where we ate what is generously called "breakfast" at the Chile's in the airport. Patrick and I ordered the same thing; Josh rolled his eyes. I gave him grief for that--friendly grief, not "miserable old hag" grief. And despite the fact that Chile's should never be a place you eat breakfast, I still ate a remarkable quantity of flapjacks.
Vacation calories don't count. Don't judge me.
A little while later, our second leg of the trip was under way. From Dallas, we were headed to Fresno. I certainly don't claim to be a geography expert of any kind, but I'm pretty sure we flew over Area 51.
See those circles in the desert? Yeah, you don't think humans did that, do you? I think not. The obvious answer is: aliens. So, obviously, this was Area 51.
If you can get over the shock of absolute proof of alien life forms, allow me to jump ahead to the best moment of the trip--LANDING ON CALIFORNIA SOIL!
Oh, sweet Jesus, thank you for letting us land safely!, we thought. We were so excited to
a) stand up so we didn't die from blood clots,
b) stretch our legs,
c) get off that stinkin' plane, and
d) see Bruce and Kristin!
As the three of us walked out of the terminal, I spied two people in the distance holding poster board signs. "Is that Bruce and Kristin?!" I asked. We got closer, and the blond girl started jumping up and down, and the guy was waving his sign side to side.
"Yep! That's them!"
 | |||||
| Action shot! Our welcoming committee. |
Joyful hugs and greetings were given all around as we made our way out into the beautiful California sunshine!
We followed Bruce and Kristin to their car, at which point they provided us each with a crisp, cool beverage that for an, uh, undisclosed but very particular reason, we poured out of their containers and into blue Solo cups.
"So, what do you think about a stop at In-n-Out Burger on the way to the house?" they asked us. We answered with a resounding chorus of approval for the idea.
"Hurrah! Huzzah!"
(Okay, we didn't use those actual words.)
Apparently, you ain't nuthin' special if you don't order off the so-called Secret Menu. Being woefully ignorant of what to get, we solicited advice from Bruce and Kristin. Josh, I believe, is the only one who ordered directly off the menu. (Not the secret one. The open-for-all-to-see-and-know one.) Several of us had our burgers "animal style," which means some tasty (and low-calorie, I'm sure) sauce is added to your beef; Bruce's also was "protein style" which is wrapped in lettuce instead of housed in a bun.
Bruce held up his drink cup and pointed to the inside rim on the bottom of it. "See that?" he asked. We leaned in to see "John 3:16" printed there. "The guy who owns it is a Christian." Pretty cool, I thought. Knowing that somehow made me feel better about the gluttony I was about to engage in.
With cold drinks, 5 burgers, and enough fries to fill a 5-gallon bucket, we pulled away from the drive-thru and set off to see the house where we were to stay for the next 4 nights.
We followed Bruce and Kristin to their car, at which point they provided us each with a crisp, cool beverage that for an, uh, undisclosed but very particular reason, we poured out of their containers and into blue Solo cups.
"So, what do you think about a stop at In-n-Out Burger on the way to the house?" they asked us. We answered with a resounding chorus of approval for the idea.
"Hurrah! Huzzah!"
(Okay, we didn't use those actual words.)
Apparently, you ain't nuthin' special if you don't order off the so-called Secret Menu. Being woefully ignorant of what to get, we solicited advice from Bruce and Kristin. Josh, I believe, is the only one who ordered directly off the menu. (Not the secret one. The open-for-all-to-see-and-know one.) Several of us had our burgers "animal style," which means some tasty (and low-calorie, I'm sure) sauce is added to your beef; Bruce's also was "protein style" which is wrapped in lettuce instead of housed in a bun.
Bruce held up his drink cup and pointed to the inside rim on the bottom of it. "See that?" he asked. We leaned in to see "John 3:16" printed there. "The guy who owns it is a Christian." Pretty cool, I thought. Knowing that somehow made me feel better about the gluttony I was about to engage in.
With cold drinks, 5 burgers, and enough fries to fill a 5-gallon bucket, we pulled away from the drive-thru and set off to see the house where we were to stay for the next 4 nights.
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