Wednesday,
February 27, 2002

There are always tradeoffs in life, she said virtuously

On the one hand, the flight was just as rough as I thought it would be -- I got up at some ridiculous time when it was still dark out, hotfooted it out to the airport, and checked in at Frontier Air ("The Spirit of the West," or so says their brochures. All I know is that the Man from McKinney said he found their seats on the smallish side, and as he's three inches shorter and many pounds lighter than me, that did not sound promising). After the body cavity search in the Security line, I dozed in the waiting area at the gate before being summoned to board the plane.

Steve wasn't kidding -- fastening the seat belt took an act of will and more contortions than an entire side show. Luckily there was nobody sitting next to me, so I was able to flip up the armrest and retain circulation in my legs. Denver was Denver -- pretty, covered with snow, and with mountains in the background. I still think their airport looks extraordinarily lame, but that's just me.

The second leg was worse in a way, as it was an extra hour longer and I wasn't even on the correct side of the plane to see the Grand Canyon (although I did see the big meteor hole -- very impressive). Got to San Diego, hired my ass a cab, and relaxed on the 25-minute, $50 ride to the hotel watching the California hills roll by and recognzing street signs that indicated I was pretty damn close to Janis's apartment

We finally arrived at the hotel, which hadn't looked all that inspiring on the web despite its billing as a suite hotel, and I had a bit of a hard time checking in due to my lack of working plastic (I applied for a credit card with my credit union before I left -- please please PLEASE let them approve it!). And then I saw my room.

Oh.

My.

God.

The plane was immediately forgotten. Not only did the hotel have a fitness room and offer complimentary breakfast, but I had a completely outfitted kitchen, a comfortable living room (with a computer desk set up with a TV, VCR and all kinds of outlets for my laptop), and a separate bedroom with another TV, a radio/CD Player/alarm clock, a mirrored closet and a beautifully stone tiled bathroom that you could have roller-skated in.

Best of all, my living room overlooked the pool. Ohyeah. Think white stucco exterior, green palm trees and other plants everywhere you look, a stone-tiled courtyard, and in the middle of it a small but lovely aquamarine swimming pool.

I was in heaven. Later on, I emailed Janis to tell her where I was so that we could have dinner on Friday night. I get a phone call -- "Do you have any idea just how close you are to me right now?" she demanded. "Hell, I'll come over there NOW and get you for dinner!"

So she did, and we dined at a local Chili's where I indulged shamelessly in a Pacific Blue Margarita and we talked about pretty much everything under the sun. Later, she was kind enough to schlepp me along to Albertson's so that I could get some basic munchies for my kitchen, then to her apartment where she gave me an American edition of "Alice Through the Looking Glass" from around the turn of the last century. "When I saw it, I immediately thought of you," she explained.

Awwwwww. Between my reception in San Francisco and this, I'm starting to like California more and more.