So tired. So very very tired. Work has been in crazy mode, trying to make the house livable eats the remaining hours, and I had a trip to San Francisco to do an interview. Excuses, excuses. No reason to ignore the blog.
Flew to SFO on Tuesday afternoon. Got seated next to an emo girl who depressed the shit out of me. I was ready to grow some bangs over my eyes and get some black eye makeup. Sigh. And the flight attendant was the Crypt Keeper. No, that’s not fair, she wasn’t nearly as friendly as the Crypt Keeper.
Once again, my charm earned me a free upgrade on the rental car. No Aveo for me.
After an obligatory trip to In-N-Out burger (yum), I took my Mazda for an hour long drive through San Francisco. I initially drove through the Tenderloin. My fault. That quickly faded away as I climbed Nob and Russian Hill. Down Lombard, then through North Beach and the Marina. Love that city. I’ve always felt so at home in NYC and San Francisco….maybe that means something.
Needing to prep for the morning, I drove down to my hotel in Cupertino. The Woodcrest Hotel. Freaking weird. How weird?
Stairs up to my room. Mental note, don’t rush out the door in the morning. And inside the door?
Vaulted ceiling, track lighting, murphy bed. Huge room. Large foyer.
If nothing else, I could put the bed up and play racquetball in the middle of the night.
So. Damn. Weird.