Lynn Gold (figmo) wrote,
Lynn Gold
figmo

  • Mood:

Westercon, Part 4, Eh?

I awoke at 6am. Why, I don't know. I think my body thought I had to do a radio shift. I went onto the Internet, sent Warren e-mail, then got e-mail back from capplor telling me there was something wrong with my .aliases file because he (Fred) got a copy of my note to Warren (which was, luckily, innocuous).

I went back to sleep. My alarm went off at 8am. I showered, finished packing, consumed some low-cal Kool-Aid that had 100% of my daily requirement of Vitamin C for "breakfast," then got a bellhop to shlep my stuff downstairs. I said my goodbyes, paid for my room, picked up my suddenly-found power strip from conops, shoved it into one of my suitcases, then got onto the shuttle for the airport.

At the airport I picked up one more shotglass for my co-worker at the duty free shop (everything else there was horribly overpriced), then breezed through customs. I was amazed they didn't harass me over the weight of my suitcase (which was easily over 50lbs). The first leg of my flight was uneventful, but I was tired after, so I got a nonfat vente iced latte with a sugar-free vanilla shot at the Starbuck's at the airport. I wasn't hungry enough for lunch, and I wanted to save my appetite for my birthday dinner. Besides, I knew I'd get a snack on the airplane and would be cared for properly in First Class.

The last leg of my flight was an adventure in a good way. Seated next to me was a charming gentleman who looked very familiar. I noticed he was reading hardware diagrams and asked if he worked in hardware. "Actually, I'm a venture capitalist these days."

I realized who he was. "You look awfully familiar. Did you ever work at Stanford?"

He looked puzzled, "Yes, but that was a long time ago. I don't think I know you. My name's Bosack."

We then said together, "Len Bosack."

"My ex-husband used to work for you. I used to be married to Mark Crispin."

His eyebrows went up.

Mind you, when I knew Len I was merely an appendage who came along with my then-husband. If I dared to show any personality, my then-husband would beat the snot out of me. Fast-forwarding, Len and I caught up a bit on our lives, then proceeded to chat on a variety of subjects ranging from Eisenhower's speeches, California governors, music and recording software, filk, the mountains we passed (I took a few photos, but they came out kind of dull...sigh), to large corporations.

I'd heard Len was a "very bright guy" from a lot of folks, but this was the first time I'd had to experience this. Suffice it to say I felt severely outclassed. I was in "sleep deprivation mode" and barely able to keep up my end of the conversation. I also felt kind of like a lunkhead to begin with.

Since I'd sampled the airline's White Wine Of The Month on the first leg, I sampled the Red Wine Of The Month on the second leg. With it the airline served hot nuts in a glass. This cracked up both of us:

Hot Nuts in a Glass

At the end of the plane ride I turned on my cell phone to find four messages. Two were from Warren, one from my mother wishing me a Happy Birthday (yes, it was my birthday), and one from Dave from Metro with my hours for Tuesday. I called Warren to let him know I'd arrived, then called my mother while waiting for my luggage. I told her a little about my trip, but mostly she told me about how sick she was over the weekend (sigh). Warren arrived while we were talking and helped me load my luggage into the car.

Next, we dumped some "Return to Sender" mail at a post office, then went to Flames on Winchester for dinner, where I got a free slice of (huge) cake for dessert. They had new menus, and luckily I took one look and saw exactly what I wanted to eat (Scampi-Style Shrimp with Penne). Dessert was Niagara Falls Cake (chocolate cake with white buttercream and dark chocolate frosting); I took home half my meal and half my dessert.

Finally, we went home, where I unloaded, cuddled Lady, and crashed so hard even Lady slept through the fireworks.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 2 comments