I’ll make this brief, folks. While writing my last post, I realized that I’m a day behind, and if I don’t write something about yesterday now, I’ll be two days behind!

Saturday morning, my dad and I said goodbye to our cousin and left Chico for the Bay Area once again. The trip itself was fairly uneventful, although my dad’s 20-year-old Honda Accord (which has been broken into about 7 times and been stolen at least twice) was giving my dad some grief because he couldn’t turn the key properly every time he started the vehicle. I would tell him to sell the POS, but he has so much emotional and financial investment in the old girl that the only way he’ll get rid of her is if it gets smashed beyond recognition.

Dad dropped me off at the rental car place at the airport, and we said our goodbyes because tomorrow he is off to hike the John Muir Trail for a month. He tried to hike it by himself a few years ago but a series of unfortunate events kept him from finishing the journey, so he’s back this year, this time with friends, and he’s very excited about fulfilling this life-long dream.

I got my rental car and made my way through traffic to my best friend Terry’s house, who graciously agreed to host me during the rest of my time in San Francisco (actually, I think it’s a requirement that I stay at her place whenever I visit, but that’s neither here nor there, because I always love staying with her). Her daughter, Camille (who was one of my flower girls in my wedding), just turned 7 years old, and they were all at a bowling alley with the kids when I got to her house.

Three Killing MachinesI was greeted at the door by three noisy mini pinschers, all of whom thought I was a terrible threat, and all of whom also thought they were six-foot tall deadly killing machines. The only way they could have really harmed me, though, is by blowing out my eardrums with their high-pitched barking, especially when the barks bounced off the hardwood floors and cabinets in the kitchen. I sat down in the living room to muffle the sound, and they finally decided I was OK after they were able to sniff me and jump onto my lap.

Camille's Birthday DressThe family arrived shortly afterward, and we went out to dinner at Camille’s favorite restaurant, Olive Garden. She insisted on changing into her birthday dress (which she had just received a few hours before), and she made the rest of us feel like we were the underdressed entourage, which I suppose we were.

After dinner, I was so tired that I went to bed almost immediately after we got back. I’m still a little jetlagged, I think.

Don’t Call It ‘Frisco