As anticipated, I received many compliments on the box. One little girl announced, "It must be a musical box!" I explained that the cat was Ruby and the dog was Badger, and their significance. She turned to another little girl and said, "It's Wuby and Badgew!" I arrived at the airport with no definite solution to my luggage problem: I wanted to bring my accordion as carry-on but I wanted to keep the wheels with me for transportation purposes, yet this left me with too much stuff on board. People suggested that they would let me bring it, since it was a mobility device. I considered wearing a wrist brace and busting out my broken wrist if need be.
Even so, I sort of hid it while I checked my backpack so they wouldn't see it, then booked it out of the check-in area. The next challenge was security. After emptying my new PINK camelbak ("You chugged that water like it was vodka!") I loaded everything through, and had to take apart the wheels and box due to size, which made me nervous. I used the new full-body scanner! It's kind of exciting, you go in this black box, put one foot in each blue rectangle, and cross your hands above your head. I asked the guy if he could see my metal wrist, and he said he wasn't the person who looked at it. (Nor did he ask if there was a fun story behind my metal wrist, oddly enough.)
A man asked, "Is this your box?" "Yes! And that's my kitty, and that-" "I'm going to need to take a look inside." I was glad that I had decided to pad the accordion with socks rather than with underwear. He closely examined it, ran his drug wand through it, and ran it through the scanner a couple more times. Another TSA guy (the token fun one) did inquire about my box, so I showed him the accordion and told him about Ruby and had a grand old time. I rebungeed, pleased that I had made it through the second of three stages of potential wheel confiscation unscathed. At this point it was time to seek bagels. When I flew out of Logan to go to Spain, there was a Bruegger's at my gate. Thus, I associate Logan with bagels. Unfortunately, terminal B has no bagels to be found. I got a banana and some M&Ms instead to serve as my second breakfast.
Finally it was time to board, and in a third stroke of luck (or leniency) my wheels prevailed. My box fit fine in the overhead rack, but since we were full, the flight attendant suggested I leave my wheels in the back with her. Fine. I took my seat, and was disappointed to realize that I was seated next to Baron and Baroness von Grumpypants. They were NOT interested in smalltalk about the woman's kindle. I had to go the entire flight without talking. That's another thing, kindles. I saw a ton of them. I can definitely see the advantage sizewise while flying, as I was wrestling books in and out of my backpack, but it's so public. Everyone can clearly see what you're reading, especially since you can zoom the text way in. A woman in my row on my second flight was reading Pride and Prejudice and a size of about ten words a page, so everyone in our area could read along (which was actually fun). I saw another kindle bear the text of "Shadow of the Wind," my amazing summer read, and briefly chatted up the man behind it, not giving away the incredible ending, but promising that he would love it.
We arrived in Chicago, where I had an hour layover (ample time to find bagels). However, I was the last person off the plane because I had to wait for my wheels, and thus missed most of my layover. I left the plane with a flight attendant, who complimented and asked about my box. I told her my spiel, the first telling of the journey. I was leaving from the same gate, on the same plane it turned out, and it was pretty much time to board again by the time I got off.
I looked around the crowd at the gate choosing people I hoped would be seated next to me. My first choice was the woman my age with a Berkeley sweatshirt and a guitar (my new BFF in SF?). I ended up with a middle aged woman and who appeared to be her mother. The former was nice, joking when I sat on them to get out, and engaging in slight conversation at times. Finally we landed in San Francisco and I went to meet Riley, my tour guide. I am staying, for starters at least, with my mom's college roommate Andrea and her husband Tim. They have a daughter, Lucy, who is a freshman at Wesleyan. They are skiiing in Aspen for the week, and Riley, an emergency room technician who works with Andrea, is housesitting, and agreed to pick me up and show me around. He is a wonderful, spunky guy, and quickly became my first [sassy gay] friend in San Francisco.
We went home to Noe Valley, excitedly looking out the windows. It's such an amazing sight, with palm trees and cool houses and the legendary hills. After a much-needed shower, Riley and I set off on foot around the neighborhood. The house is right in Noe Valley, and there are a ton of cute shops and restaurants a mere few steps away. We window shopped and decided to stop for sushi.
There is this adorable hole in the wall sushi place right there. We sat at the bar and had a wonderful dinner chatting with the old Japanese woman who was singing along with the Beatles songs playing, and the young man, Daniel, who was preparing our dinner. It was an absolutely delicious dinner, broadening our horizons a bit, and giving Riley and me a chance to bond. My "job" came up, and Daniel inquired about accordion lessons. It turns out he's in art school for advertising, so I mentioned needing a logo. We agreed to barter accordion lessons for a Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox logo. My social and professional opportunities were already beginning.
We went home, and I fought to stay awake until 9:30 CA time, when I slept and slept.
Now it's a beautiful San Francisco morning! I'm drinking tea and orange juice, and Riley is watching CSI on TV. I'm going to accompany him on some errands that necessitate the Muni (public transportation), and see more of this amazing city.
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