Meanwhile, I am fantasizing endlessly about boots and pumpkin flavored anything and trying desperately to ignore the fact that my living room has been turned into a veritable sweat lodge because its a trillion f--ing degrees outside. Barf. Southern California can take it's year round rosy weather and general lack of cynicism and shove it, quite frankly. Because I'm not having a.n.y of this.
So as you can see I am doing really really well these days.
I actually just recently returned from my first trip as a very busy and important working professional. I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm kind of a big deal. (p.s. you can feel free to file that one under tots obvs. too)
I went to San Jose for a week to visit schools and was generally pleased by the experience as well as by my lack of melt downs in entirely new and sometimes disorienting situations. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I've outgrown my penchant for freak outs, as I am sure my log of text messages to Moses regarding tipping valets and using hotel gyms would suggest otherwise, but I would say that I have made definite progress in the whole not dissolving into a puddle of myself at the slightest provocation department. I am also happy to report that I did not contact anyone about the possibility of having or carrying any rare diseases and/or ailments, so well adjustment be mine!
Anyways, San Jose turned out to be a pretty quaint city, which...is not what I was expecting. I honestly don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't what I got. Perhaps I found it particularly charming because I was staying in the downtown area in the historic Sainte Clair Hotel, which was built in the 1920s. I didn't take any pictures because...I didn't so get off my back but here is one from the internet.
I booked the hotel because it was older (and I am sucka for old hotels and history in general) and conveniently located but what I didn't realize until I went googling around for information about parking while waiting to board my flight, it's allegedly one of the most haunted hotels in San Jose.
Now, I don't particularly believe in hauntings or ghosts but...I scare real easily. Maybe it's the fact that I was raised Catholic or maybe it's because I have one hell of an imagination but if someone tells me something is haunted my most of me says whatever and laughs it off but there is this little tiny part of me that says uuuuummmm better cover your bases and sleep with the lights on. So I did. Especially because I didn't have Skeptical McSkepticism Moses to protect me from any paranormal inhabitants with his powers of reason.
I did not have any ghostly encounters but I did wake up on average 10 times per night. So go figure.
And speaking of hauntings...I must have passed the exit for the Winchester Mystery House at least ten times over the course of the week and each time I was tempted to make a little detour in my travels. On my last full day in San Jose, I had some time to kill after a morning full of high school visits, so I looked up the tour times for the Winchester Mystery House and was less than thrilled to discover that the tour was over two hours longs. Um, thanks but no thanks. That is approximately 90 minutes too long. I'm sure I won't regret not going for always.
Warning: This is the part of the blog where I get tired of writing and just flash photographs at you.
So. After all my work obligation were over, I headed over to bay area (a huge thanks to Lynne and Gloria for picking me up from San Jose!) and met up with Moses for a little family fun.
Including but limited to:
Eating crab at the historic Aliotos which overlooks the Golden Gate Bridge.
Playing old games, many of which, as the clever plaques on them reminded us, are older than their players...
Sampling some Ghiardelli chocolates.
Part of the "d" was burned out...
And some sourdough bread at La Boudin.
Strolling around an art and wine festival, which featured booths selling an eclectic array of products.
I think that will about do it for me. Now back to ignoring the collection of four different types of pumpkin ales housed in the corner of our fridge (taking up prime real estate according to Moses) and drinking my apple wheat beer instead. It's offic. fall. Sorry, I'll stop abbreviating already moderately short words tomorrow. I promise.