We woke up to Guns n Roses singing Paradise City at 3:15am on Tuesday.  We slowly sat up and realized we needed to get goin’.  I found my traveling clothes and tennies (I never travel in zories anymore because my Auntie Barbs FORBIDS IT–for safety reasons.  And I apease her by not freaking her out when I fly.  It’s the least I can do, right?  I mean in the event of an accident I need my feet covered and protected from falling luggage, pieces of plane crumbling over my body and of course, to help others.  I have never had to help in the “event of an emergency” but I’d like to think if my feet are prepared, then I’ll be heading in the right direction.

We were out the door by 3:30am and on the train by 3:40am for an hour and twenty minutes through Manhattan and Brooklyn over to Queens.  The last time I had been to JFK I was coming home from my visit in June for Rik’s High School graduation, and the time before that I was  “JFK Drunk,” and if you don’t know that story remind me to tell it to you some day.  I’ll begin it with “So there I was” and everything.  I’ve traveled 5 times in the past year.  That’s more than in the past decade, by the way.  Wow.

The A Train got us to JFK, then we took the Air Tram to Terminal 7.  We checked in just fine, by 5:30am and stood in line for security for twenty minutes.  I was wearing my glasses and felt like a child in my soft pants and sweatshirt and no make up.  That has no real story or lead in to a better story, it’s just what I was thinking about at the time.  We found our gate by 6am, I popped my trusty dramamine and waited for our “Zone” to board the plane.

After finding our seats and settling in I pulled my sweatshirt up to the window and tried to cozy up, as best as one can cozy up in a plane with their seat in the upright position (not that the 3 inches of “recline” is any better by the way), and removed my glasses and put on my sleep mask and prepared for a 4-5 hour nap.  After practically saying the seatbelt and emergency mask and oxygen stuff with the flight attendants I smooched My Darling and prepared for sleep, because dramamine always knocked me out.

At least, it always did BEFORE.

The humming of the engines and air flowing through knobs above every person face echoed constantly in my ears.  I was all-too aware of the cart passing with complimentary soft drinks and $7 “well drinks” I lifted my sleep mask and found My Darling laying across the seats as best he could, then later he’d be asleep on the tray table attached to the seat in front of him as I tossed from left to right with my neck pulling in ways that would make my chiropractor cringe.  It quickly became the longest flight I’d been on since my trip to Russia.  There were babies crying, people sneezing and blowing their noses and the clinking of the cart coming and going with drinks.  I was miserable.

We FINALLY arrived in Phoenix for our connecting flight to SLOville, and the gate-gods were kind by not making us run 4 miles in the airport, like I did the last time I was there.  YES FOUR MILES–well it felt like it.  YES I know what four miles feels like, it’s four times worse than one mile, thanks. heh.

We got food at a Starbucks, my $3 bagel and cream cheese–and got on our plane to SLOville.  Sleep did not exist on this flight either, but a sniffling whining dog did–right behind us.

Ahhh, welcome to SLOville darling.  THIS is the airport.  Yes it has one, very small baggage claim area and that was my brother golfing on the video playing above baggage claim from the Visitors Bureau for the best things to do and places to go during your visit on the Central Coast.  We are famous, us Mersai’s, on the Central Coast.  Got our car rental, which was more than I thought, plus daily insurance of $25. oops.  Head lowers in defeat, oh well–

It’s a silver 2010 Ford Focus, and I kind of want to keep it.  First place we went was Broadway Bagel.  Oh Spinach Cheddar bagel toasted twice with sundried tomato cream cheese–how I miss you.  And a 5th avenue Latte (hazel nut and irish cream syrup) and he got a salt bagel with lox cream cheese. And he thought mine was better.  muuuahahahah .  Then it was to meet my Maamm, while she was working.  A brief hour long visit later we were in the car to Nipomo so I could meet my newest Nephew: Bennet.

All the pictures I’d seen of him he looked so soft and flawless.  A little hair on his tiny babester head, and a little slant in his eyes from my Dadda’s side of the family.  In person, he was even better.  He is a tiny bundle of perfection.  A skinny little guy with tiny fingers and little wrinkly feet.  He smells what I imagine perfection smells like, if it had a scent.  Some would say a piece of heaven, I’m saying it’s better than that.  heh.  I held him for a few hours just feeling his soft little legs and little cheeks.  My brothers also came by my sisters house and we hugged and I smooched their faces and we all sat and visited as a family, with both Baby Bennett, and an Intro to My Darling.  We ate some food and just chatted.  It felt like time had stopped just for us.  There was nothing to worry about.  No work, or serving strangers.  No cleaning bathrooms, or dishes, or tables.  I didn’t even have to speak if I didn’t want to.  I could just stare at him and run my fingers over his perfect little legs.

A few hours later the brothers left, and so did My Darling and I.  We headed to my Maamm’s house and had some wine and visited more.  She made a sausage and rice concoction with a salad, and it wasn’t bad at all.  Rik played some John songs on his guitar for me and he also bought Thrifty’s Mint n Chip ice cream, and Chocolate Malted Crunch.  They are my favorites.  We drank more wine and watched the rest of Arachnophobia.  Ma and I had a fun discussion about joy vs. happiness, believing in god and not believing in god. Then we watched Rik’s DVD project from his editing class from high school.  He’s such a creative guy, that Rikster.

By 10pm, Smurf and My Darling and I headed to Mongos and I sang one song, and Smurf sang one song–and we came home.  We watched some Friends and crashed on the couch.  The rain didn’t let me sleep. By this point I didn’t remember the last time I had slept successfully for more than 30 minutes.