Travels with Fluff: Where in the Hell is Carmen, San Diego?

Happy New Year! Not much new here. Went out, drank too much, and spent New Year’s Day on the couch watching movies, thinking that it was about time I did my promised Fluff post. As some of you know, Little Sassy Schmoozer dragged me off to San Diego in November for a big conference. What a taskmaster! She had me glad-handing so many people, and she hardly let Fluff and me out of her sight to do the tourist thing. So, the pictures aren’t so good—and they’re all in the Gaslamp Quarter—but here they are.

Fluff went to Lee’s Café for breakfast one day. Lee’s Café is a rather amazing place. It’s a Chinese diner, meaning that they’ll do your eggs any way you like, or you can get Chinese food. You can also get cereal.

When Young Coworker and I followed Fluff into Lee’s, there were about ten men of various ages and backgrounds hunched silently over coffee and food. We knew we were in for a treat. It was fantastic.

An “Authentic Irish Pub” in San Diego. Because California is so like Ireland.

Yeah, yeah, Wyatt Earp.

Yikes! Fluff thought that maybe Fluff was illegal. We gave them the slip.

That’s it. I hate Little Sassy Schmoozer. She doesn’t let me have any fun. My Memphis friend and I are discussing taking a little trip somewhere exciting sometime soon, however, and LSS is not invited.

If you’re new to Travels with Fluff, check out the link under Favorite Posts. Fluff gets around.

I’m Baaaaaack (Well, for about Ten More Minutes)

Ugh. Little Sassy Schmoozer dragged me off to San Diego for a conference, and she didn’t let me go anywhere. I was able to fit in a few moments with Fluff in the Gaslamp Quarter, but that was it. What an exhausting trip. Successful, from LSS’s point of view, but exhausting for poor me.

My connector flight from Denver was delayed by over three hours, two of them spent on the plane. Originally, we were told that it was due to a mechanical problem, and we were grateful that the airline wouldn’t send us hurtling through space in a broken tin can. Later, however, it came out that we were parked at the gate for hours because an unoccupied seat in first class was a bit “dirty.” Our pilot decided to pull a publicity stunt by delaying the flight until corporate headquarters cleaned it up. He handed out fliers and encouraged passengers to contact the media. If he’d handed one to me, I would have delivered this story, Don’t Fly United Airlines: They Suck. Thanks to a dirty seat, I was stuck next to a chatty real estate agent for nearly six hours. Fuck the dirty seat, I wanted to go home.

What that flight delay means for you is that you will have to wait for the few Fluff photos and the story of my brief fling with McNeighborBoy. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a rerun, the story of my freakshow Thanksgiving.

Off to New Hampshire, for a quiet (I hope) holiday. Happy Turkey, or as I call it, Happy Vegetable Pigout Day! Back soon.

Going to California: My Heart Aches

OK, I’m awake and alive. Life went into whirlwind pattern again (shows, work, brief fling with a neighbor, etc.), and I just haven’t been able to get to this blog. And now Little Sassy Schmoozer is dragging me, kicking and screaming, to California. Truly, I have an aching in my heart. The good news is that Fluff will be joining us, and I think I can give Little Sassy Schmoozer the slip long enough to get some photos. Wish me luck. Miss you all! I’ll be back just before Thanksgiving.