Well, I’m back.
Turns out I won’t be going to Idaho, because the car is totally screwed.
So, I shall comment on the last of my San Diego trip, pay some bills, clean up a bit, work like heck on this stupid house, and try to be positive about it.
The best thing about San Diego was our visit to Spread. Yes, I am still talking about this. It was amazing. In a previous life, a similar situation could have been my future. Or at the very least, I could have financed such an operation and gotten stupid fat on eating awesome food all the time. Wait, this is not positive. Spread was awesome.
Let’s see, that was… the 4th. I missed all the fireworks that day, but I didn’t care. I miss all the fireworks on the 4th every year anyways. Fireworks on the 3rd are always better for some reason.
On the 5th, we got to the meeting early after buying breakfast and portable lunch to get our picture taken on the steps of the convention center with the other 381 people from Washington. My BFF also picked out my future girlfriend out of the Washington delegates. I had a posse of about six people working on getting me at least some sort of affair at this thing and it seemed they had finally found a viable candidate. It’s not that I’m picky at this point, it’s just that it was pretty clear that none of the teachers at this thing were available and/or attractive. They pointed out the lady in question and we all went to work.
To pass the less exciting moments, BFF came up with a fantastic game: guess the 80’s movie I’m thinking of by asking yes/no questions. It’s a pretty tough game, but we played it for about three hours, including the drive to fancy restaurant of the trip #3. I never really thought of myself as a foodie, mostly because that term is stupid, but I do really enjoy food. In my recent quest for adventure, I’m trying to be more accepting of these expensive things but, then again, the first thing I did when I came home was go to Red Mill Burger. At this fancy place, I ate a sort of Phad Thai kind of dish. Mi Goreng, that’s the name. Fried noodles with goodness on top. It was pretty excellent, but not as good as either Spread or Buon Appetito. BFF had Tuna Nicoise. Fancy!
After the fancy dinner we hung around and watched NOVA on the local PBS station. One of the shows was about musical savants. One guy was autistic and blind but ruled so hard at piano. One guy had no musical talent and then got struck by lightning and then started composing. I want to be a musical savant. It’s time to make that happen. Once I get back from Europe, I will turn all my attention to piano. And a solid exercise program, and selling this house, and getting an amazing new girlfriend, and going to therapy, and buying more fancy shirts, and using my handkerchiefs, and going to a ridiculous amount of shows.
The 6th was the last day of business for our meeting. After four days of democracy, we were all starting to get tired. However, the best speaker of the whole convention was on the last day, Dr. Linda Darling-Hammond. Pretty much my new hero. She could be my friend on facebook any day. Good stuff.
Speaking of friends, I tried to make a couple more at this thing. Again, there were not many people my age, but I did what I could. I met a bunch of folks, but could theoretically continue conversations with Noam and Kate from Seattle and Kitsap County respectively, as well as trade more inside jokes with my BFF (“You know, we’re heading to a one world government!”), and get poignant advice on how to live my life from Michelle and Stephen. I’m getting better at talking. I’m getting better.
So, what about this new girlfriend? I sent my posse on a reconnaissance mission. They brought back promising information: not a lesbian, lives in Seattle. Nice. I was building up the possibilities in my mind all morning. We implemented phase 2: invitation to evening activities. BFF put the offer out there and found out that she was adorable and…. had a wonderful boyfriend. Add this to the news about the rally car and all of the sudden San Diego sucked even more. After terrible Mexican food, we returned to the hotel and I watched a documentary about Portland (I wonder how teacher pay is in Oregon?) while BFF fell asleep. I was ready to leave.
Yet, that feeling of elation that always strikes me when I get to go home never hit. There’s usually this urge for transportation to go faster, for time to quicken, for a quick blink and I’m there. This time, I didn’t want to come back. It’s not that I wanted to stay, it’s just that I had finally escaped everything for a bit. It’s just that, when I wasn’t stuck in this house and this city, I believed that anything was possible. Perhaps the reminder that when I build things up they almost always let me down was just too much at the end of my escape. Yet, somewhere within me is the same hopeful person that existed years ago. Maybe I just have to go farther away to revive him from his coma. Like Finland.
You can re-live the day-to-day action by reading my twitter feed as well. Tonight, I’m going to play a crap ton of music, pay my bills, and sleep in a different strange bed for a change. And listen to the Classics of Love record I got before I left. And see if I can set up a couple dates for this week, since I’m not going to Idaho. It’s summer. Let’s party!