Monterrey, Capitola, Chinatown, & San Francisco (Day 3 & 4)

So I've been kind of busy and haven't been blogging lately, so for this entry, I'm copping out and sending you to look at all my photos from the past few days: the album from Monterrey & Castroville & Capitola, and the albums from Chinatown & Alcatraz. Enjoy, I'll hopefully blog more later or at very least, a bunch on Saturday if I get stuck in the airport.

The Valsalva Maneuver: Redwoods & Santa Cruz

Here on Day 2 of the trip, we decided to head to the Redwoods and Santa Cruz. As we were winding up the hill/mountain, our ears started to pop and the following conversation ensued.

"To get your ears to pop, just hold your nose and blow gently. It increases the pressure in your ears, it's called the Valsalva Maneuver," says Uncle Richard.
"No it's not. The Valsalva Maneuer is when you bear down to take a dump," says Aunt Dori.

Kristyne decided to Cha-Cha it and sure enough, Uncle Richard was right (we found out later it actually can be either or). So that was the running joke through the redwoods, which...are huge. Seriously. One of the tallest ones was 271 feet high (which, the Statue of Liberty is 305'1"). After some fun jumping around the forrest and ducking under John Fremont's bed tree, we ended up back in the car to go to Santa Cruz.

We cruised the strip a little bit and made our first stop at Bad Ass Coffee (no joke, it's really called that!). Got myself a hot chocolate and a keychain to prove I was there, and then we took a trip down the strip. Found a book/record store that we took some fun record pictures in (including Joan Baez, my other one was Madonna). Looked in a few shops and came back home for dinner and planning tomorrow.

We're Not Lost, Smiddy Said Turn Right!

Let me get this clear: I didn't rag on Amanda Fox in that last post. The Amanda I was referring to was my cousin Amanda Connors, who had a similar voice to the girl in the last post, only the girl on the phone was far more pathetic. I don't want to make one of my friends think I was talking about her, because I wasn't.

Now that I've straightened that out? On to the first day in San Francisco.

After oversleeping a little and going to late mass (which seriously, St. Mary's has a crazy choir and I totally zoned out because the priest was kind of boring), we came back to grab lunch at the house and get sweaters and things for the trip to San Francisco.


We thought we were running late, so we jumped in the car and raced over to Neil's apartment to pick him up. Turns out, he had just woken up and took about 10 minutes to get ready as we tried to harass his cats to get out of their hiding spots. Once he was ready, we took off to the Warhol exhibit. We hit the YSL first, which, I wish I could've taken pictures, they were gorgeous. I want the tuxedo in there. And a few others. Anyway. After the exhibit, we took the photo tour of the Golden Gate Bridge, and then when that was done (after trying to find the wave organ, which we couldn't, even though "Smiddy" said to turn down by the yacht club and thus became a trip-long joke), we drove through Japantown and tried to figure out where to eat dinner. Which took a bit, because everywhere we thought of, the restaurant had closed recently.

We ended up at Bocce, this cute little restaurant in Little Italy, which we were afraid would be packed, but was actually completely empty except for us and some other couple. Which meant we could be as loud as we wanted. So we were. It was delicious, and it was really fun, and we were there for almost 2 hours.

Good times.

The Saga Continues

8:42 PM EST, Somewhere over Columbus, Ohio

Unfortunately, I had no time to blog from JFK. Mainly because of what happened coming out of Syracuse.

So Kristyne & I got on the Delta Connection flight no problems. Tiny little plane, actually, more of a bus with wings than an actual plane. I was at the window, then Kristyne was on the aisle (we got the 2-seat side), across the aisle from us was a little older lady, Peggy, going to meet her brother in Rome. Really sweet lady, reading some sort of Irish-looking romance novel.

As we were looking over the safety protocols, Kristyne and I had the following conversation (this is legit).

“Who would bring a desktop computer on a plane?” asks Kristyne, pointing to a picture on the safety brochure of a television with a remote.
“Who would bring a remote with a desktop computer? That’s a TV,” I answer back.
Kristyne takes this in for a minute.
“Who would bring a TV on a plane?”

A few minutes later after we ponder who would bring a TV on a plane and why, she asks the tough questions about bringing remotes on planes.

“Can you bring a remote on a plane?” she asks. “Like, what if I was in India, and my mom calls and says ‘Our remote broke, can you grab a new one?’ and I buy one there and get on the plane?”
I look at her with a “you can’t be serious” look and respond.
“You could buy one back home,” I say.
“Yeah, but it’s cheaper in India,” she says.

Somewhere in the midst of all of this confusion, the pilot comes over the intercom and announces that since there’s too much traffic flying into JFK International Airport (our layover), we would be delayed 45 minutes to an hour sitting on the plane on the runway until we were given permission. So rather than taking off at 4:40 PM EST as planned, we would be leaving at 5:40 at earliest.

Kristyne proceeds to shit a chicken, thinking it’s completely her fault due to her horrible flying record (which, really, it totally could be. She has horrible luck with flying lately). As she calls her dad to tell him the news, I try to get in touch with my aunt and uncle in California. I call my Dad and tell him to relay it, because Aunt Dori won’t answer her phone. I try one more time and get Uncle Richard, who says just to call whenever the hell we get to JFK.

We take a few sad pictures with Anne-Koala reading the safety materials, waiving by the rainy window on the runway, and looking upset that she’s held up an hour with Kristyne frowning as well. We also have angry pictures with our boarding passes to San Fran, because we were under the assumption we wouldn’t make the connection flight.

We finally take off at 5:50 PM EST and proceed to hit some of the scariest turbulence I’ve ever experienced. My state of mind isn’t great, considering those recent three flights crashing (even though Sully got everyone out okay). Our main concern at this point was making our layover flight at JFK to San Francisco: that flight left Gate 10 at 7:20 PM EST sharp, and we assumed we would be missing it.

Turns out we didn’t. With a few shortcuts from the pilot, we got from Syracuse to NYC in about 40 minutes. Kind of sad, really, we waited on the runway on the plane longer than we were in the air on the plane.

So we disembark and quickly try to find the terminal, which let me tell you, JFK is freaking huge. I mean, the part I saw wasn’t as big as De Gaulle in Paris or Barajas in Madrdid, but the two terminals I saw were gigantic, and that was only for Delta. We found it finally, but as we were walking, I heard “Fetsic and Palombo, please report to Gate 10, the flight to San Francisco is departing.”

My “Oh shit” moment happens and I flashback to the Wisconsin flight my family took when I was about 10, when we forgot to change our watches to CST and we had to run to the gate. I’ll never forget it, Dad had Corinne in one hand and the Burger King bag in the other…

…anyway.

I yell at Kristyne to book it to the gate, we get there just in time, and we get on the plane 10 minutes before takeoff. Turns out the plane is really really empty (I currently have the whole row to myself, the lady sitting by the window got up to find an empty row to sleep). I buy myself a kick-ass southwestern chicken Caesar salad from the plane and get my drink, and settle in for a 6 hour and 6 minute flight, which actually left 5 minutes early from the gate and features free TV shows.

So I can watch E! and Saturday Night Live when my laptop dies from 30 Rock.

So the traveling started off bad, but really, not horrible now. Granted this flight goes as planned. Stay tuned, next entry should be some point tomorrow.
9:16 PM EST, Flying into Illinois (according to this nifty in-flight map)

I want to discuss the “Mile High Club.”

After having to book it through JFK and not having time to stop at the restroom or get food, I decided to move about the cabin and use the bathroom. Other than the cold air blowing at me from nowhere and the odd faucet, I noticed how truly small that the bathroom on a plane is.

It’s essentially smaller than a port-a-potty, with the luxury of not being tipped over (although you can’t really crash a port-a-potty, so six in one, half dozen in the other). There’s enough knee space to walk in, but really, there is one.

Now I know that a lot of people have the fantasy of having sex on a plane in the bathroom. Logistics wise, those people having sex in the airplane bathroom have to be tiny, and willing to have either the hand-hold bar or the faucet digging into their back during the act.

Just a thought. Will update ASAP.

Google Street View Blows Kristyne's Mind

This is the third entry from 'Cuse, but since Kristyne & I are bored as anything, we've resorted to snooping around Google Maps.

I'm minding my own business and trying to listen to the new U2 album for reviewing (it's not bad, it's not amazing), and out of nowhere I a hear "WHOOOOOOOA!" that would make Bill and Ted proud.

I look over and Kristyne is perusing the Golden Gate Bridge in 360 degree view on her computer.

"I can make my little guy move!" she says.
This will be a fun trip.

Cheers & Jeers: Syracuse Int'l Airport Wi-Fi

My cheers for the Wi-Fi in the airport are for its mere existence. Being able to check my e-mail, blog, Twitter, IM, and Facebook are awesome. I got to read some recaps on Television Without Pity, even

My jeers for the Wi-Fi in the airport are for its firewall. It won't let me to VH1 to watch Tool Academy (even though it did let me on Best Week Ever's blog), it won't let me to Entertainment Weekly to read up (although it will let me on to E! Online, which...maybe they don't like EW up here), it won't let me on parts of Live Journal or Fan Fiction.net!

(Yeah, I read Fan Fiction. Shut up)

California Dreamin'? California Bloggin'!

So day one of the Spring break adventure has begun.

Kristyne & I are currently sitting in Syracuse Hancock International Airport (the "International" makes it seem huge, but it's tiny, and it's only international because it provides flights to Canada) waiting for our flight to JFK at 4:40. Don't ask me the flight number, I don't know it.

After making our way through security (my worries that my belly-button ring would set off the alarm were for nothing, I was absolutely fine going through. Although Kristyne had some issues with her cameras at the first TSA point), we ended up here at the terminal waiting as the first passengers in those uncomfortable blue seats looking out the window at this baby little plane of Continental's.

The plan is that nothing bad will happen here (although it looks like it will pour any minute now on one side of the terminal), and we'll end up in "Frisco" by 11:15 PM, as Hilary refers to it. We dropped her off at Ithaca Airport on the way here.

This morning was pretty good. Cleaned up the room, watched as the kids down the hall got their asses fined by the RAs (Kaitlyn & Matt). We were allowed to leave up my beloved window paintings until we move out, and we locked up and went to Dunkin' Donuts for some flatbreads/bagels and coffee/hot chocolate (somewhere in Wilmington, Delaware, John Palombo is crying at his lack of Dunk's coffee).

So now we are here. If I have time, I'll make an entry from JFK. The chances of that are slim, because as I remember, we only have about an hour for layover.

And the first priority at JFK is to find a Chick-Fil-A, stat.

Oh, to add? The Wi-Fi here at Syracuse has firewalls. I tried to look up the Facebook of Genesis off of College Humor (would link it, but it wouldn't work, because of this sentence), and it said it was objectionable content. Kind of a bummer. Apparently,t his internet is family-friendly.

So lonely travelers? No porn here.