Let's Play "Re-live the Trip!"

Ladies and gentlemen, from the third floor apartment in Dublin, CA, it's your host Rrrrrrrrrrrrichard!

Anyway, to make up for the last woefully short post, I am going to explain just how my trip to California went down. The plan was sinfully simple: I would wake up at 5:30 in the morning, get all nice'd up for breakfast at IHOP with one of the nicest girls in the world, stop by the DMV at 7:00 to register my girl (more on that later), eat breakfast and say some goodbyes, go home and say some more good-byes, stop by Cedar and say hi to one of my friends, and drive, baby, drive to Anaheim, making it there in the early evening and going to bed, ready the next day to get to training.

And then this is how it actually went.

The morning started of well enough. I got up, got dressed, albeit in slightly less dressy clothes than I had planned, owing to the early hour. I drove up to the DMV, arriving there just after 7, only to find out that I needed another form filled out and signed. Great.

I decided to put it off, feeling the breakfast was of more importance. We ate and talked and had a generally good time, and then it was rather difficult to say goodbye, as is the way of things. Eventually, though, she had to go to work, so our respective hands were forced. Such is life, I fear.

After a quick conference with my life advisor (a.k.a Mom) the DMV issue was cleared up, and I returned home clutching the new plates that spelt my freedom to drive my car as I saw fit. Which usually falls pretty well in line with the law. Mostly. I said good-bye to mother and sister and set off into the wild blue yonder!

Quickly, however, it became apparent I was traveling the wrong way. A rough estimate of when this became apparent was somewhere around the time my boss called me to say that she was switching me to another different office... I about-faced.

Not to be daunted, I remained undaunted and headed north to Salt Lake. Since I hadn't planned out the trip north, I realized I would have to rely on my instincts and basic geographical know-how to navigate the treacherous highways toward Dublin. This last sentence is something we soon-ish-to-be English Majors like to call "foreshadowing." Possibly "irony," too. Don't you think?

Upon leaving SLC, I quickly hopped on I-80 East toward Cheyenne. I could tell this would be a long journey by the miles of sagebrush-dotted flatland I beheld before me. I braced myself against nature and automobile and driver, for I would not let myself fail! Something more tugged at the back of my mind, however. Yes, I'm sure some of you at home have grasped it.

I remember when I was younger, visiting my grandparents' house. They had this little foam puzzle of the United States that you put together state-by-state (except the Northeast, since it was a conglomeration of smaller states) until you had our glorious nation assembled in glorious technicolor. Well, except Alaska and Hawaii.

So, in my mind's eye, I placed Utah down with my mind's hand. Lightning fast, I had assembled all the states except California, which was lain, slow motion, on the far left of the puzzle. Left... ah...... the mind's gears began grinding, and the mind's compass began whirling.

Aggravated, I turned around and headed west to Reno, the more obvious choice in the first place. Not altogether pleased with the way the actual forward motion was slow in coming, I soon began to relax and enjoy the scenery rushing by as I drove in my lovely MX-6. For hours, the trip floated along pleasantly. I remember, more than once, coming over a hill and seeing straight highway up to the horizon. Considering my sister and I spent the night previous juxtaposing Chuck Norris and Peter at the Pearly Gates jokes, it came as little surprise that one of my first thoughts was to mentally (with my mind's voice: I have the whole mind's set) sing "Be still my foot,/Fast come the speeding tickets..." In another instance, I switched it up a bit with "O leaden foot,/ The cops, the cops are watching!" Yeah, Utah and Nevada are boring.

Somethings good did come out of that looooooong trip across the plains. I got to see the salt flats, which I wasn't sure were salt flats until I ran into a restaurant bearing the same name in its title. I can't remember the rest of its name, though... I was nearly convinced it was snow, and I really badly wanted to get out and explore it more thoroughly. Unfortunately, I felt I should hurry, hurry along.

My friend with whom I broke fast that morning kept in contact through text throughout the trip. She had asked me if I had a name for my MX-6, and I told her I hadn't yet. Well, as I was inching along at about 130-ish km/h, I found myself considering how I thought of my car. "Well," I said to myself, "she likes to go fast, I like her acceleration..." So, my car, while I have some ideas for names still floating around, is most definitely a girl.

A few hours past that, my musings becoming less and less memerable, I arrived in Reno, and stopped for gas. It was getting dark, and I tried to find wi-fi to check my route to Dublin from there, to no avail. Frustrated, I called home for direction, which I got, and started on my way again. The evening began to look ominous.

As I proceeded into California, I noticed an increase in road work, and around 50-ish miles in, they had set up a detour for the trucks, busses, and RVs. Now, I'm still not sure whether they also detoured cars, but somehow or another, though I would swear to everything I hold holy that I followed all the signs to a tee. Whatever the case, I spent the following hour and a half (at least!) with constantly steeled nerves as I wound through the mountain roads in the dead of night behind a truck who treated every turn as though he was pulling a trailer. After what seemed an eternity, we emerged onto a decently-sized highway leading to Sacramento.

Once again, my mind's compass decided to go all wonky and I got the impression that Dublin was north of California's capital (it's actually southwest). I'm sorry to say that at that point, having been awake far longer than my body is usually happy to accomodate, and having just gotten out of a rather stressful series of switchbacks, I called back home with much irritation. I just want to point out that my mother can be a pain in the butt sometimes, but she really comes through when she is needed, and considering that it was 1 in the morning her time when I called, she was pretty patient with me.

She got me pointed in the right direction and I drove, and drove, and drove... I could feel my conscious thought becoming less and less lucid as I went, but I finally managed to find the apartment complex in which I now lay, on top of my bed. There was one more obsticle to overcome, however...

It was 2 A.M when I finally arrived. I'm an idiot when it comes to a choice between others' convenience and my needs. I walked up to the door and listened very intently, and I thought I heard voices, and then I didn't. I was tired. I should have knocked louder, but I tapped it lightly, so as not to disturb anyone from sleep, then, when nobody answered, I went back to my car.

Now, I love my car, more than I've loved any car I've owned previously. If she were a person, I would probably at least flirt shamelessly with her. But she isn't very comfortable to sleep in. That and the flourescent ambience around and the fear of being towed away in my sleep made for a very light sleep, and I woke not very rested at all. I drove around Dublin a bit, spent some time trying to get the lay of the land (and failing), then finally, around 8, I gained access to the flat. Shortly after, I flopped down on my bed and caught a few hours of sleep.

So here I am, one long, terrible car ride and then a rather lax day later, blaaaarghing. I'm dead tired. I am going to sleep as soon as I share this with the world so they can pity me endlessly.

G'night!

California Adventures!

Well, one hopes. Yes, tomorrow, I will be on my way to exploring the vast expanses of the world, specifically in Orange County. I'm excited, I think. Kinda hard to say. Anyway, I expect to be posting all about my adventuring adventures and odd oddities. I guess this is just sort of a heads-up, since I'm not really sure what else to say.

Hmm... I guess I'll leave you with an improvisational haiku.

Ah, Olive Garden,
How I long for your breadsticks!
Happy Mother's Day?