I just returned from a two week long business trip on the East Coast that took me to four different states, none of which allowed you to buy wine in a CVS. Thanks Obama. Or Puritans. Or both.
I see this lack of booze accessibility as a real failing. Who cares about seasons and brilliant fall fuchsias if I can't buy moisturizer and a bottle of tequila from the same store?
And in case you were wondering, the correct answer is no one.
Relax, I'm just (mostly) kidding. You can all close your google calendars, which you were assuredly checking to see when best to schedule my intervention. Also, I will be busy for the next three weekends, so...yeah. Just bear that in mind.
I am so glad that I am doing this instead of writing out a grocery list.
But moving on.
I have a new found respect for people who travel often for business--people like my father when he was working at IBM in the 80's and early 90's and jet setting nearly every other month--because as fun as it is, it's hard. It's hard being away from your life and staying in multiple hotels and eating mostly take out and repacking the same suitcase that you stupidly overstuffed with clothes, over and over again until you have blisters on your fingers as relics from all your wrestling with luggage zippers. True story.
But rather than dwell on all the times that I bruised my thighs and ripped my tights while lugging around my wheelie suitcase through the subways in New York City, I am going to focus on the more pleasant parts of my travel. Not because I am trying to be optimistic but because in those other stories, I am sweaty and directionally challenged and I would prefer to keep up the vague facade that I am cool, generally non-sweaty, and resourceful.
So the narrative really begins on Halloween night, when I caught the red eye to Connecticut. I was pretty annoyed about having to take the red eye, since I usually only will make an effort to cut those price corners when I am funding the trip myself, but in retrospect, I am glad that I got out of the LAX when I did. If I had left even seven hours later, at a reasonable time in the morning like I had wanted to, I would have ended up at LAX right around the time of the shooting that happened there. So you best believe that I am thanking whatever lucky stars I have that I was saved from that harrowing experience.
Getting into Hartford early Friday morning also meant that I got to spend almost the entire day with my best friend Gwendolyn, which was just so lovely.
It was the mildest, most beautiful fall day. The autumn colors were at their peak, which I was moderately concerned about missing; we drove around to the different colleges in the area (where Gwendolyn works), we drank endless amounts of coffee to keep me wide eyed while running on four hours of sleep, we dined at quaint New England restaurants that boasted spectacular views, and ran an errand or two at Target (no Wendy/Gwen trip is complete without that).
It was really the most charming day--one of the those days that I felt nostalgic about even before it ended. Do you ever have days like that or is this yet another symptom of my particular brand of overly emotional nutterdom? It was so nice to see Gwendolyn again and to chat about our lives and to be in a place that I had never really called home but that felt like home. Or maybe that was just being around Gwendolyn.
I know. Mushy mush mush mush but you'll get over it, given time and the appropriate amount of therapy.
The real highlight of the evening was when Gwendolyn took me to an old mill that had been converted to a used book store and restaurant.
|My favorite section.|
|Gender studies section. Natch.|
It was certainly my kind of place.
The next day I drove to Boston, where I stayed for three days, in a ridiculously nice and equally ridiculously expensive hotel room.
Still can't beat that view...
Taking selfies, my favorite travel past time but you already know this about me.
My sister is currently doing her second post doc at Tufts because she's not an overachiever at all, so we were able to hang out quite a bit while I was in Boston. I feel similarly sentimental about that time.
On Sunday evening, she, Gwen and I walked around Davis square and the Tuft campus. We got to see Genny's new apartment and share a truly fantastic dinner at a seafood restaurant.
Monday night, my last night in Boston, Genny and I walked the Freedom trial. Yes it was dark and cold and my feet hurt by the end of the night because I'm getting old but we had soooo much fun. And we ended the evening by having a drink and some appetizers at the Green Dragon Tavern, which is historic bar on the freedom trial where many of the revolutionary soldiers regularly met to plan. And we had a nice text conversation with Scott about the name of the taverns affiliations with Tolkien.
God, Tolkein and history? Nerd alert.
And since this is the traditional part of the narrative where I start to get lazy, I will just itemize the highlights from the rest of the trip.
The highlight of NYC: walking to the empire state building and realizing that I had to pay $30 to go to the top. To which I responded, effff that and took the subway back to my hotel room where I watch no less than four straight hours of food network t.v. programming.
The highlight of my three and a half hour Sunday drive to Philadelphia: black bear roadkill on the side of the highway. Did I say highlight? I meant single-handedly the most horrifying thing I have ever encountered. I totally wasn't freaking out for the next five miles straight.
The highlight of my three and a half hour Sunday drive back to Ithaca from Philadelphia: not hitting a black bear with my no liability coverage rental car.
The highlight(s) of Ithaca: hanging out with my family, having a delicious/delightful dinner with my brother Scott and his girlfriend Katie, not doing any work, watching girly movies with my mom, grocery shopping at Wegmans (be still my heart), drinking Ithaca Bakery coffee and eating Ithaca Bakery bagels, eating too much and only feeling moderately guilty about it, having my Dad pretend to be Jillian Michaels and scold me about eating too much, at which point, I ceased feeling any guilt. Yeah. It was all priceless.
And true to form, I have approximately zero pictures from the New York leg of my trip. Fail, Kozak.
But I did manage to take this lovely shot of the sunset from my plane. Does that count?
Oh yes and this was after the first plane I was on had to make an emergency trip back to Newark after hearing a popping sound in the engine. But don't worry, it was not in the least bit inconvenient/terrifying/no, mostly terrifying. And I totally enjoyed boarding the same flight twice. I don't think I quite got it down the first time, but the second time around: nailed it!
I'm only kidding because fo' reals I am glad we switched planes.
I am also so so so glad to be back to this:
My welcome home tulips from Moses and my favorite W mug, with coffee in it.
I am also happy to be back to a refrigerator that works again and that has been purged from all rotting food by my saintly boyfriend.
And since it was snowing in New York the day I left, I am also glad to be back to the 70 degree weather and the feeling of smugness I get when reading my east coast friend's facebook statuses.