OK. So look back up at the top of the page. See what it says there? You are fully warned, right there in the heading, that things around here tend toward randomness. Or at least semi-randomness. Truth in advertising, people.
This morning I dropped my car off at the dealership (which, because I’m that ticked, I’m going to name again: Global Hyundai in North Plainfield, NJ). Because I’m a household of one person and one car, taking my car for service would usually mean staying with the car while it was worked on (in the interest of fairness, over the years I’ve dealt with some very nice, friendly, helpful people in their service department).
But waiting for my car to be serviced, my friends, is a collosal waste of my time (and in this case, it would be all day and a waste of my vacation time as well). So I begged a pickup from a colleague (who had the day off so instead I was wasting her time & gas in the effort; PS I can’t express how thankful I am to her).
Nevertheless. I dropped the car, and waited for my ride, and went to work.
Part two of my tale of recent technology failures will stay on hold for a few more days while I tell you that at the same time I was buying my fabulous new toaster oven, I was also picking out a new bedding set.
I’ve been in the market for a new bedspread, and associated accessories, for at least a couple of years. Probably longer, but that’s about the window of time at which the fact that 10+ years was starting to take its toll on the bedspread stitching became apparent.
I hear the naysayers, saying Nay about the idea of a bus tour. There are pluses and minuses to such things.
For instance, I like the freedom of going and doing and setting my own itinerary. I like trying new and unknown experiences. But I don’t like how overwhelmed I tend to feel alone in cities, especially when I don’t have a plan. I don’t like driving in unfamiliar places, especially (1) if rental cars tend to be manual transmission only, (2) if they drive on the left side of the road, or (3) if I don’t speak (or read) the local language. Actually this alone is the single most likely decider for me of tour-vs-selfguided vacationing.
In January 2001, I went to Hawaii for the first time.
It was a direct flight from the East Coast to Oahu. So a good 12+ hours on the plane, minus time change effects, meant that I left at something like 6AM and landed at something like 2PM, feeling already like something the cat dragged in. And this in the days before an extra 2 hours of security clearance time and who knows but that economy seats may have offered precious inches more space per passenger. Continue reading “Go west! (And wake up confused)”→