Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Westward Bound

Within the next eight hours I am going to (a) fake-tan my legs, (b) attempt to sleep a little, (c) rise at an ungodly hour that starts with a 4, and (d) enter a giant metal contraption that will transport me across a continent. Crazytown.

I land in Sacramento at noon tomorrow! where it's projected to be 78 degrees! Here in Boston, we just set a record for the snowiest freaking winter in EVER. Packing was a truly surreal experience — I'm bundled up in layers and fuzzy socks, packing capris and a bathing suit. (Hence the need for "tanned" legs.)

To my amazed astonishment, my dear friend J is in Sacramento as we speak, and we have plans to meet for lunch! J lives in Santa Cruz, almost 150 miles away from the capital; this is a true moment of serendipity. We are lunching at an iconic restaurant of my youth:


Mmm . . . spaghetti with brown butter and mizithra cheese . . .

Mmm . . .

Sadly, I woke up this morning with a deeply congested head and the beginnings of a cold.


I have stuffed myself with drugs and am about to take to my bed with hot tea, cold water, Season 3 of The Gilmore Girls, a good attitude, and a prayer. Also, fake-tan lotion. Have I mentioned that? I expect to be bronze and savage by morning.

Which starts at 4 freaking a.m.

Not . . . so much a morning person, over here.

But then, less than 24 hours from now, I'll be with:


And this is something to be profoundly grateful for — both that I have her and that a one-on-one visit is the best thing in the world. My mom is awesome on a plate.

It's unlikely that I'll blog for the week I'm away, but you never know.

In the immortal words of Arnold Schwarzenegger:
I'll be back.

love and (germy) kisses,

Lady C, about to cut cross country like Emma Middleton

(That's an inside joke for Betsy-Tacy people. You know who you are)

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