Friday, October 18, 2019

i'm ready for the laughing gas

And just like that, my retreat is over and I'm about to immerse myself in day-job madness. I'm sitting at a restaurant called Mustard's, somewhere in the middle of the international terminal at SFO. I've sat here before, on different trips, with different people - in fact, I ate here before my last trip to Germany, five years ago right about now, when this was a restaurant called Andale.

But this time I'm flying through Frankfurt rather than stopping there for a book fair. I'm headed to Berlin, a city that I don't particularly enjoy - in fact, every trip I've taken to Germany in my life has been vaguely tinged with disaster. The best trip to Germany was for Ritu's sister's wedding, but on that trip I drank a bunch of floral arrangement water, possibly poisoned myself, and was sick for all the rest of it. The other trips involved equally bad ideas. But maybe my weird relationship with Germany isn't surprising - my only recurring nightmare involves being chased by Nazis while freezing in a blizzard...so if I believed in past lives, I would believe that my last past life was a disaster in its own right.

sssanyway. I awoke in Tahoe this morning after a v. short sleep, stuffed all my things into my bags, helped clear out the houses, and got on the road a little after nine. I gave Barbara and Anne a ride back to the Bay Area - they live relatively close to SFO, so it made sense for them to ride with me. We had a v. easy, lovely car ride, with a stop in Old Town Vacaville for lunch. We didn't realize that Vacaville had an old town, or really anything but outlet malls and In-n-Outs, so that was a surprise. I dropped them both off at their respective houses, made a quick stop in Burlingame to grab a single, beloved Philz Coffee (and mail myself a box of stuff that I needed for my writing retreat but don't need in Germany), and then came to the airport.

And now, after eating a steak, drinking some wine, and generally relaxing a bit, it's time to put on my compression socks (I am old) and board my flight. See you on the other side!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Did you forget about your overnight back in 1994? What could be better than the Nassauer Hof, Wiesbaden with a $900 executive suite and $600 connecting room and eating McDonalds after 6 months in exile?

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