That being said . . . Waaaaaaaaahhhhh! I don't want to be home! Home means bills and work and laundry.
Now that I've got that out of the way, its time for some highlights: (I'm feeling the bullet points today)
- Stepping out of the San Diego Airport into a cloudless, sunny sea-scented day.
- Acquiring a good 60 freckles after a first day burn--so much sun, so much skin showing, so worth it. Not that I did it on purpose, mind you. I should have been more careful, but the sun felt delicious on my shoulders. I'm a sucker for delicious.
- Funny songs made up by our friend C "when the Muse struck him." Priceless.
- I'm just going to lump all the food in one bullet, although it was so so good. So here it is, in no particular order: Raclette with friends. Saffron satay. Shakespeare's. In N Out. Croce's. The Fish Market. The Old Spaghetti Factory. The previously mentioned gnocchi, along with spaghetti with browned butter and mizithra cheese, wherein we commandeered the kitchen of our friends to make them dinner. And last but not least, four ridiculously enormous breakfasts prepared by our friend C, who rivals us for champion of breakfast goodness--this from a man who used to hate breakfast food. Delicious, delicious, delicious.
- Being eye to eye with an agitated, pacing tiger at the San Diego Zoo with nothing between us but a piece of plexiglass.
- Alex, the tram driver at the San Diego Wild Animal Park, who managed to make a tour very fun, even as he educated us about the near extinction of many species of animals. "Please keep your hands, arms, legs, and torso in the train or you will . . . fall out."
- Running into old family friends of Mr. Bump at the San Diego Wild Animal Park in a bizarre, happy accident.
- Getting to see my friends Elana and Paige after too, too long. Elana--I'm going to hold you & Davey to that visit!
- Babies babies Babies! Max, Davis, Joey and Sammy--you guys were not as scary as we thought you were going to be. It helps that you're all so damned cute.
- Bringing home a sack of meyer lemons from Elana's lemon tree. They smell so sweet. I think they will become meyer lemon curd before the week is out.
- Having lemonade from lemons from that tree at Elana's house. And that delicious pumpkin bread. Mmmmm pumpkin bread. Delicious.
- Just hanging with our friends K & C, talking about life, reading books, cracking each other up and playing games. We are indebted for all their hospitality.
- The Frontier ticket counter person in Denver laughing at me when I asked for exit row seats, then telling me that I wasn't travelling under the "same name" as my husband. When I pointed out my name on my driver's license, she complained it was not "hyphenated." Too bad, bitch. I didn't choose my name for your convenience. (It was also way too early (5:30 a.m.) for her to be that rude.)
- The staff at the Budget rental car in Mission Valley, at 1904 Hotel Circle. Should you ever wish to rent a car, please do not approach these people. They will promise you a convertible and then make you drive a Pontiac Vibe. They will promise you a 10% discount for your trouble and then make it a 5% discount. They will not apologize for not having the car you reserved, because you were an hour late to pick it up. They will not apologize for making you wait for a good 15 minutes for any help in the first place. And then they will say you are late. They will not apologize for changing the 10% discount to a 5% discount. They are the devil and they must be destroyed. That being said, the Vibe was kinda fun to drive, if a little sharp on the brakes. But a sunroof does not a convertible make.
- Missing this bookstore.
- My Mr. Bump getting sick in the middle of the trip, and hovering over him helplessly, watching him be a trooper until evil people with stinky cologne sat next to him in the airport on the way back. Mr. Bump, I am so sorry you got sick.
- The evil Frontier ticket counter person in San Diego who LIED and told us there was only one exit row seat, when there clearly were 3 once we were on the plane, plus a whole row of bulk head seats. LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!
- Girl at airport, appx. 16 years old, sitting cross-legged on the floor playing cards with her family--YOUR BUTT CRACK IS SHOWING. WE DON'T WANT TO SEE IT. PLEASE PUT IT AWAY.