I'm in Denver, enjoying the hospitality of Katie's guest room (which apparently comes with a free wakeup call tomorrow, since Anne, her four-year-old, has already proclaimed that she wants to be the one to wake Aunt Sara up in the morning). My trip was mostly smooth, albeit more eventful than I had hoped - I got to the airport early to have breakfast and get some leisurely coffee, which turned into very leisurely coffee when I found out that my flight was delayed by two hours. After talking to the gate agent, who told me that she had no idea that the flight was even delayed, and then suddenly said "I"m late!" and literally ran away from the gate like she was the fucking White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, I was not feeling very good about my chances of getting out of SF today.
So, like a good road warrior, I used my phone app to secure a seat on a different flight before most people on my flight even knew it had been delayed. The new flight ended up leaving almost an hour before my old flight ended up taking off (the two hour delay stretched out another thirty minutes beyond that), so I felt pretty smug. I pampered that smugness by having a glass of sparkling rosé (I think I may be able to have rosé again - I was off it for awhile after having half of five bottles during my epic rosé bender on a memorable day in July), and then I got on the plane, where I slept for the first half and spent the second half hate-listening to the conversation next to me while working on formatting stuff for some book work I need to get done.
When I got to Denver, I took the new train from the airport to Union Station, and it was super convenient - and Union Station is really cute. Then I took a ten-minute Lyft from the train station to Katie's house - so the $9 train ticket + the $7 lyft ride for a total of an hour in transit (37mins train + 5mins waiting for lyft + 10min lyft ride) was way way way better than spending $50+ (or, if it's a blizzard, $300+) to sit in traffic for 45mins.
Katie was getting ready to go to a party when I got here - her nanny is getting married tomorrow, and they were going to go to the rehearsal dinner party tonight. I ended up crashing it with them, which I think was okay (I've met the nanny, whose name is also Katie, and she's the most adorably wonderful woman) - and if it wasn't okay, I still ate a million bacon-wrapped dates like it was my job to do so. The girls were of course super excited to see their nanny all dressed up and ready to get married, and it was really lovely to spend an evening in a backyard that isn't decimated by the cold, unforgiving ravages of #karlthefog. I've almost forgotten what it feels like to wear a sundress during the day that can transition to evening without the addition of tights/boots/cardigan/down jacket....
We stayed just long enough for them to cut some cake (which the grandma had baked last minute yesterday because she has some cake toppers that were used on her own parents' cake way back in the day and have been used in every other family wedding since, and she insisted on baking a cake for them - the cake was apparently fucking delicious, according to Katie and James), and then we came home and they put the girls to bed. Then Katie and I sat up and drank a bottle of wine and started our inevitable highly-detailed gossip about our birth county, which I'm sure James really appreciates (he mostly ignored us, with good reason).
But now I really need to sleep if I'm going to survive the sounds of reveille as played by the shrieking voices of Anne and Julia -- goodnight!
So, like a good road warrior, I used my phone app to secure a seat on a different flight before most people on my flight even knew it had been delayed. The new flight ended up leaving almost an hour before my old flight ended up taking off (the two hour delay stretched out another thirty minutes beyond that), so I felt pretty smug. I pampered that smugness by having a glass of sparkling rosé (I think I may be able to have rosé again - I was off it for awhile after having half of five bottles during my epic rosé bender on a memorable day in July), and then I got on the plane, where I slept for the first half and spent the second half hate-listening to the conversation next to me while working on formatting stuff for some book work I need to get done.
When I got to Denver, I took the new train from the airport to Union Station, and it was super convenient - and Union Station is really cute. Then I took a ten-minute Lyft from the train station to Katie's house - so the $9 train ticket + the $7 lyft ride for a total of an hour in transit (37mins train + 5mins waiting for lyft + 10min lyft ride) was way way way better than spending $50+ (or, if it's a blizzard, $300+) to sit in traffic for 45mins.
Katie was getting ready to go to a party when I got here - her nanny is getting married tomorrow, and they were going to go to the rehearsal dinner party tonight. I ended up crashing it with them, which I think was okay (I've met the nanny, whose name is also Katie, and she's the most adorably wonderful woman) - and if it wasn't okay, I still ate a million bacon-wrapped dates like it was my job to do so. The girls were of course super excited to see their nanny all dressed up and ready to get married, and it was really lovely to spend an evening in a backyard that isn't decimated by the cold, unforgiving ravages of #karlthefog. I've almost forgotten what it feels like to wear a sundress during the day that can transition to evening without the addition of tights/boots/cardigan/down jacket....
We stayed just long enough for them to cut some cake (which the grandma had baked last minute yesterday because she has some cake toppers that were used on her own parents' cake way back in the day and have been used in every other family wedding since, and she insisted on baking a cake for them - the cake was apparently fucking delicious, according to Katie and James), and then we came home and they put the girls to bed. Then Katie and I sat up and drank a bottle of wine and started our inevitable highly-detailed gossip about our birth county, which I'm sure James really appreciates (he mostly ignored us, with good reason).
But now I really need to sleep if I'm going to survive the sounds of reveille as played by the shrieking voices of Anne and Julia -- goodnight!
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