Going to California

(I wrote this in the middle of a four-hour plane ride and am only posting it because I'm waiting on the shower. I'm not actually spending my vacation blogging)

Yes, I realize I neglected to mention that I would be traveling to San Francisco later this week, namely because I’d planned to blog before then. Sorry about that, Modern Angie.

This time six years ago I was living in Chattanooga after taking a semester of college to do a six-month internish gig there. I did it rather than travel abroad, and while I do wish I had traveled abroad I wouldn’t trade that time in Chattanooga in for anything. It was there that I went through the most formative period during my college career and made the best group of friends I’ve ever had in my life, save my BFF and a few other friends at school. I loved them so much that I returned to my crappy job in Chattanooga after I graduated two semesters later and lasted another eight months before I snagged a much, much better job in Nashville with the current employer.

My friends went their separate ways around that time as well, and now they’re located everywhere: Chicago, Atlanta, Mississippi, Arkansas, Alabama, D.C., Montana and yes, San Francisco. Every year we reunite in some awesome city, alternating between coasts with every fifth year planned for Chattanooga (that will be next year). The group has been to Las Vegas (couldn’t afford that trip), Chicago (so much fun), New Orleans (I was family reunioning) and now this trip.

I’m writing this from 30,000 thousand feet in the air on my Macbook’s word processor in the company of my traveling companions, fellow Knoxvillians Modern Jay and his lady, Modern Leigh. It’s a 3-hour, 45-minute flight. Modern Jay is trying to read a magazine as eight-year-old kid sitting in front of him rocks violently back and forth in his seat. The kid’s mom keeps talking in her best outside voice to her son while repeatedly rising and falling back into her seat as she goes through all of her carry-on luggage looking for something. Ah, apparently that something was dental floss because the entire family -- mom, dad and child are all flossing in their seats. And ohmigosh, she just reclined her seat, smushing my dear Macbook in the process. Karma is a bitch, and my iPod can only go so loud.

By the way, we’re only one hour and 15 minutes into this flight. Kill me. (By the way, Jay predicted this whole bit on Twitter).

Anyway, we’ll be spending four days in the city by the bay. I was blessed with parents who love San Francisco and found it necessary to bring me with them on a couple of their trips there growing up. I love it with all my heart, but haven’t been there in like 16 years. I’m very much looking forward to enjoying it as an adult.

We’ll be taking in some fine dining, a baseball game between the hometown Giants and my beloved Cardinals and a trip to Alcatraz. We’ll walk around some and we’ll sit around some in a gorgeous condo near Haight-Asbury that we rented for the occasion. Many of us brought instruments with which to hootenanny, much as we used to do on an almost weekly occasion in Chattanooga six years ago. I packed my neglected guitar in its case and strapped it to my back, which Jay found comical because we were in the Nashville airport. He said I looked like a failed country musician, leaving my dreams behind in the country music capital. He has yet to hear how bad my pickin’ has gotten in the past few years.

That’s all for now. I’ll try to send a few dispatches from the hills.