Don’t get me wrong. I love being new places.

I just hate the stress of travel. The packing. The second-guessing. The staying up too late. The getting up too early. The worry that I’ve not left enough time to get to my gate. The concern that I’ll be sitting at the gate for hours.

Pittsburgh is a lovely city. I’m a little worried that the event I’m running tomorrow will be a flop, but other than that, I’m looking forward to being there. I’ve written down info for three local yarn stores. I’ve checked the baseball schedule (the Nats will be in town, so, at the very least, I’ll be watching the game on tv). I’ve printed out directions and have contemplated places to eat today and tomorrow morning.

I’ve eaten and am halfway done with my tea. I’ve packed a knitting project and two books. My outfit is sitting on the chair. I still have to shower and to run to Rite-Aid for some Mentos and some extra cat food. But, other than that, I’m ready to go.

I just wish I were already there.

And then back again.

See you tomorrow night, after I return.

I just wanted to warn folks that blogging will continue to be irregular over the next three weeks. We head to Salt Lake on Wednesday to help Rudi’s mother recuperate following her hip replacement surgery. I return a bit before Rudi because of work obligations that will have me working the final two weekends of the month. The laptop will be going with us to SLC, but I’m not sure how much time there will be to post, given the caregiving and home maintenance responsibilities we have planned.

This weekend was spent cleaning the Burrow and doing laundry in preparation for heading out of town. It wasn’t all work and drudgery, though, as I also got some reading done and spent some time with Jenn and her husband, both of whom graduated from Conn a few years after Rudi and I did and who spent the first few days of their vacation touring the city’s sights. I don’t think we’ve seen Jenn in ten years, so it was great to be able to meet them for an Ethiopian dinner and cupcakey dessert following their two exhausting days of hiking the Mall and battling Girl Scouts.

I also headed over to the garden to water everything, string up the next level of twine for the peas to climb, and harvest some lettuce leaves and two Alpine strawberries. Some peas have flowers on them, my smallest broccoli plant sprouted a head (more the size of rabe than regular-sized at the moment), the pepper has buds, and the sunniest of our tomatoes has a lovely green orb. Leeks continue to mystify me, and the beans may need to be replanted after the town did some branch trimming that crushed a bunch of them early on. All in all, though, gardening remains a very satisfying experience. I look forward to July, when I hope to be able to add a swim in after my work sessions.

We returned shortly before sunrise this morning from a trip to Connecticut for the long weekend. It was lovely.

The only thing on the agenda for was a wedding. My next-oldest cousin, Tim, married Sharon on Saturday, in a ceremony/reception that seemed to suit them. Tim, Sharon, and my aunt Dort all seemed very happy with the way things fell out and I’m pleased we were able to make the trip north to be there. I got to wear clothes from my closet — a cute red dress with polka dots and white high-heeled sandals — that I’d bought for that perfect occasion that had yet to arrive.

Otherwise, the weekend was very laid back. We ate pizza, scones, and barbecue and drank daiquiris and iced tea. Rudi took a long bike ride. I read and knit and visited with Gramma and my folks. We sat in the sun and I got eaten by bugs. (I’ve counted 40 bites or so to date.) We watched a cute Welsh movie. We sat around the outdoor fireplace and played Jarts and croquet.

It was utterly relaxing and totally wonderful. Even the roads were relatively traffic-free! I could have lived without the bug bites, but even that seemed small payment for a weekend as laid-back as this one was.

Since a trip to Utah to care for my recuperating MnotIL will use up every drop of my leave time for the summer, I am going to have to rely on the power of the imaginary vacation for some R&R.

So in my mind, I am going to plan a late May jaunt to the south of France. It’s about time I put all those years of French classes to use. (This is not entirely true, since I have already put them to use when I visited Quebec eight years ago. I was complimented in Montreal for the accent I used when saying, “Bonjour!” Luckily, the tour guide at the stadium didn’t ask me to say anything else in French, since my reading comprehension is far superior to my speaking abilities!)

On my pretend vacation, I hope to swim and sunbathe on the Côte d’Azur. I plan to pedal past fields of lavender. I want to hike the Luberon. I expect to breakfast on crusty bread and chocolat chaud and sit at roadside cafés in the afternoon with Rudi. We may even take a few days and travel to Paris.

Since this vacation isn’t bound by the pedestrian technicalities that make real-life travel difficult, I will not worry about finding someone to water my garden or paying someone to look after our cats. I won’t stress about returning jet-lagged to work on the day after I fly home. I will not be concerned by the price of the hotel that is priced quite nicely for someone who normally traffics in Euros instead of the ever-declining dollar. I will merely smile at the enchanting hôtelier, wave my hand, and tell him to charge it to my credit card. There will be no repercussions.

Since I do not have to budget my vacation days, let’s make this trip last three weeks. That will really give me time to shake off all the winter doldrums and to recharge my batteries.

The only risk we run? That reality is that much duller because of the imaginary.

Ah well. Some chances must be taken.

So how about you? Where would you vacation this year if reality didn’t get in your way?

I promised a recap of the rest of the work trip in San Francisco.

Work was work. I spent far too much time inside when the weather was lovely over a long weekend. Really there’s not a lot more that can be said about that.

Outside of work, though, I did have a nice time. We didn’t really get to explore much of the city, but we did hit a couple of places (most of which involved food) I thought I’d share:

• I ate breakfast outside at that same café I found the first morning. I also ate lunch there one day. Some days I had company; other days I ate alone with my book. All of them were lovely.
• One night, after gorging on wonderful Indian food, at a restaurant whose name I can’t recall, Amani pointed us to a Cold Stone Creamery. Normally, I’m not a huge fan, but this night, the cold, creamy dessert really hit just right. (If you’re unfamiliar with the chain, you start with a base ice cream flavor and then mix in toppings to create your own unique flavors.) I got a vanilla ice cream with chocolate chips and raspberry sauce swirled in. Yum! I totally ate the whole thing.
• We ate dinner one night at a raw food vegan restaurant called Café Gratitude, recommended by one of Suzanne‘s friends. A meat eater, he’d nonetheless given the restaurant rave reviews, so we caught a cab to the Mission district and gave it a shot.

  The restaurant is inately Californian new age — the sort of place that makes Middle America distrust vegetarians. At one point, one of the waitresses came over to ask us, in complete earnestness, “What are you going to do today to promote your self worth?” Dishes have cheesy names, like I am Delightful and I am Lusciously Awake, but the food is terrific.

  Heather, Suzanne, and I split a guacamole dip as an appetizer and then Heather and I shared both a grain bowl (complete with kim chee (fermented cabbage), sea greens, and black rice) and a “pizza.” I’d considered not getting the pizza, because, having grown up amongst Sicilians, I am very picky about it. I’m glad I didn’t give in to this temptation, though, because calling it a pizza was laughable. Really, it was salad on a cracker. But it was a fantastically delicious salad on a cracker, and that’s the important thing. The rice bowl was also quite tasty, but I preferred the salad on a cracker. We concluded with dessert, but I picked the dud in the bunch with a fruit cobbler. Heather’s vegan chocolate mousse and Suzanne’s pecan pie were much better. I was never so happy to realize I had chocolate (cooked and made with milk!) in my room as after that misstep.

• I also ate at David’s Delicatessen, a Jewish deli/restaurant about halfway between my hotel and where I was working. My cheese blintz was lovely and I finished the meal with a coconut macaroon. Yum!
• Finally, after the convention was over, Suzanne taught our coworker Cee-Cee how to knit and the three of us caught the BART over to Imagiknit to check out the local yarn selection. After witnessing an arrest as we were getting off the metro and walking about a mile (it seemed like longer, getting there), we spent quite a while fondling yarn and leafing through patterns. The staff was friendly and the stock impressive. There were plenty of things I’d never seen in person and an extensive array of fibers, colors, and weights — something for everyone, really.

  At first, I walked away empty-handed, but in the end I went back inside and came out with a skein of Bouton d’Or Ksar in glacier, a pale blue yarn made of half merino-half camel. Yep, camel! We then headed back to the hotel where we sat in the lobby lounge knitting and snacking and drinking while Suzanne and Cee-Cee waited for their red-eye flights.

Flying out the next morning, I did myself (and you) a disservice by packing my camera into the overhead bin. We were leaving just at sunrise and the Bay was foggy as we took off from Oakland. But as we followed the coast north and cleared the fog, the Golden Gate Bridge came into sight in all its glory. It was breathtaking — and you’ll just have to take my word on it. At the other end of the flight, we flew over what had to have been Skyline Drive. And if it wasn’t, well, let’s pretend. After all, I have no photographic proof that declares it to be anything else.

All in all, not a bad trip. I ate lots of yummy places and came home with souvenir yarn. If only I’d managed to squeeze in a massage…

I started my business trip to San Francisco luxuriously slowly this morning, which is good since I was up until nearly 4 a.m. East Coast time last night and then was awakened today by a housekeeping knock on the door at 8:30.

I wanted a cup of tea and something to eat, so I threw on some clothes and headed downstairs where I’d read there was a coffee shop. Except, of course, that I’m staying in a fancy hotel, so their version of a coffee shop less resembled a Peet’s or a Starbucks and more an old boys club, down all in dark wood and named “The Oak Room.” Not me, either in price or in atmosphere. (For the record, there is no coffee pot in the hotel room.

So I wandered across the street to Union Square, where I vaguely remembered from previous visits there was a coffee stand. Styled after a French pâtisserie, the shop offered espresso bowls of tea and delightful pastries, including a tasty chocolate croissant. I sat outside in the sun and read my book and watched people and pigeons.

Then I toured the block or so around the hotel. I ordered room service last night because the guy at the desk told me there was nowhere to get dinner at 10 p.m. I’m sure he misunderstood my question and thought I was asking about food options within the hotel instead deliberately neglecting to tell me about the two all-night diners just out the back door. They definitely look more promising for a late-night tea run than room service.

Speaking of which, room service seemed to be a more glamorous idea in my head than it turned out to be in reality. Maybe it would have been different if I’d had company. But otherwise it was just me sitting on the edge of my bed eating an overpriced salad and watching the tail end of Men in Trees. Really nothing exotic about it. Another ideal dashed by the cold water of reality, I’m afraid.

It was a busy afternoon/evening and I have a renewed sense of appreciation for those who stand for a living. Tomorrow also promises to be busy, with lots of interacting with hyper children. But the day ought to end at 5, so I’m hopeful that my friends and I should be able to spend a fun evening out exploring the city and tasting San Francisco’s delicacies.