I'm wiped, people. I feel like it's a Monday, and Tuesday morning and early afternoon have already come and gone. The only thing worse than a Monday itself is a Tuesday disguised as a Monday. And I have to hit the road again tomorrow, thus missing my interview with David Beckham on Thursday (WAH!!!), and all I want to do is curl up on my IKEA chaise and catch up on the last two weeks of The Bachelorette. (STOP rolling your eyes right now! I know it's trashy and boring and DEEE-AHHHNA totally annoys me to no end, but what else do you expect me to fill my DVR with from June to September?) I guess today was a good day to get probed by the dentist (ouch!), get my second dose of Gardasil from the gyno (double ouch!) and have my lady bits landscaped (OOOOOOOWWW!) because I'm really not useful for any other purpose at the moment. Kind of scary when I have five stories due by Friday that aren't going to write themselves (any ghostwriters out there?). Instead, I write to you from the Peet's in Burlingame, where I stopped for my SECOND day in a row of pumpkin pancakes -- stop judging! I had the fruit plate, too! And in my defense, I ran EIGHTEEN freakin' miles all the way from San Francisco to Sausalito and back yesterday morning. I'm sure I'm still burning calories...right? -- en route to my waxing appointment. Although today was exactly not the day I should have been interviewed by the Christian Science Monitor -- thanks to S. at Transient Travels for the referral -- because while I had a lot to say on the topic at hand, a fatigued Kristin does not an intelligent Kristin make. Also, for some reason, when I switch roles form interviewer to interviewee, my normally articulate self miraculously takes on the IQ of, say, Paris Hilton, with my vocabularly dwindling to a handful of one-syllable words. I'm sure the reporter was thinking, "and you call yourself a journalist??? You can't even string together a coherent thought!"
Anyway ... so this weekend was a bit of a whirlwind, as they're all seeming to become. I missed my good friend Kate's wedding in upstate New York (which would have also served as my first lesbian nuptials, darn!), and this saddened me to no end -- there was a photo booth the reception, complete with props! -- but alas, this book is not leaving a lot of time for extracurriculars. Thursday night, I stayed in Napa Valley at the charming Harvest Inn (amazing amenities --- like a temperature-controlled hot tub on your own personal deck and a massive stone fireplace that caused me to stub my toe and break off at least three toenails; not so amazing staff) and got up bright and early (5:30am) for my long run, only to find I left my shorts back in SF. I briefly toyed with the idea of running in my bikini bottoms and a tank top, but figured the poor tourists of Wine Country should not be blinded by such a sight (besides, have you ever run 18 miles in something other than runner's shorts/tights? Chafing, owch!). On Friday, I "worked" by the pool all day, because hey! It was actually summer in Napa! Not the ridiculous 50 degrees we had yesterday in the Bay Area that's prompted us all to turn on our heaters and don our woolly best. Any time I'm in above-70 weather this summer, I fully intend to get my tan on. I'm a total sun person, in case you can't tell, so it's quite ironic that the only vacation I'm taking that isn't work related this summer is to Alaska.
After successfully frying my right side -- who's the idiot who failed to put on sunscreen? and the tard who sat typing away for three hours with her same side faced toward the sun? -- I drove to Davis via Lake Berryessa to pick Scott up at Amtrak and drive the rest of the way to Nevada City. We were meeting his fam at the annual Grass Valley Bluegrass Festival the following day, so we used the opportunity to check out the area for the book. Nevada City is the cutest little town in Gold Country, and I wished we could have stayed longer. Plus! It's only 45 minutes from Reno -- who knew? -- and while I've never been to Vegas, I did learn to ski (and gamble!) after a trip to Reno and Tahoe when I was 8. I love it there (or at least Eight-Year-Old Self loved it there).
We stayed at this adorable brand new B&B, Bella Rosa Inn -- should you ever be passing through, DEFINITELY check it out -- and got up early the next morning to head to the festival campground, where the whole crew had already set up shop. Now, I love Scott's entire family as if they were my own (they kind of are these days anyhow), and since I don't have children of my own to brag on, and The Cat is only interesting once in a blue moon, I have to dote on Scott's niece and nephew, Jack, 2, and Kiva, 4. Everyone says this about "their kids" but I mean it when I say these two are the cutest, most intelligent children you'll ever meet (if you don't believe me, read this). We spent several hours grooving to the bluegrass and hanging with them before packing up and driving the two hours back to Wine Country -- Rutherford, if you're keeping track -- where we spent a relaxing evening at Rancho Caymus Inn (highly recommended again, if you're ever in Wine Country -- actually, while we're on the topic, if you ever do venture out this way, I'd be happy to plan your entire trip for you...God knows I've stayed in enough places to qualify as an expert).
The next day, we headed even farther west, almost to the coast, on the way to cover Outstanding in the Field in Marin County that evening -- an event which I will rehash in detail at a later date . We stopped over in Petaluma, which I had just been reading about in Sunset mag the previous day. Cute town though it is, we quickly bored of it, though were surprised to see that Billy Bob Thornton and his band (he has musical aptitude??? News to me, too!) will be playing there on July 11. Were it not one of my favorite people's 30th birthday that same night, I might be inclined to make the trek back to Petaluma and check it all out. I actually interviewed Billy Bob Thornton three years ago when he was doing press for School for Scoundrels, and he's surprisingly charming and uncreepy in person (aside from that whole blood-in-the-vial Angelina Jolie bidness).
And while I'm putting my own self to sleep typing this post -- have I really become that boring? I blame it on the onset of fatigure; even though I slept a good 10 hours last night, 18 miles drains you of any and all personality -- I'll save you any future boredom and leave you with some pictures instead. And promise you next time to do better. Or take a blogging class. Or do something that actually merits an interesting post (not that the bluegrass festival wasn't a load of fun, because it totally was! There just weren't any naked hippies or other interesting mishaps for me to snark away at).
Those eyes are going to break many a girl's heart one day.
Jack to Kiva: "Sissy, you have chocolate on your face!" Someone's one to talk.
Who invited the snowflake?
I made fun of Scott for ordering a snowcone when there was perfectly good ice cream to be had (who orders ice shavings as opposed to a cold, creamy cup of lard, I ask you?). Then I proceeded to eat more than half of his...hence the red tongue.
Scott and bro Jim called each other in advance to coordinate outfits; don't let them tell you any different.
Kiva's pretty face paint didn't last long; it "bothered" her.
Anyway ... so this weekend was a bit of a whirlwind, as they're all seeming to become. I missed my good friend Kate's wedding in upstate New York (which would have also served as my first lesbian nuptials, darn!), and this saddened me to no end -- there was a photo booth the reception, complete with props! -- but alas, this book is not leaving a lot of time for extracurriculars. Thursday night, I stayed in Napa Valley at the charming Harvest Inn (amazing amenities --- like a temperature-controlled hot tub on your own personal deck and a massive stone fireplace that caused me to stub my toe and break off at least three toenails; not so amazing staff) and got up bright and early (5:30am) for my long run, only to find I left my shorts back in SF. I briefly toyed with the idea of running in my bikini bottoms and a tank top, but figured the poor tourists of Wine Country should not be blinded by such a sight (besides, have you ever run 18 miles in something other than runner's shorts/tights? Chafing, owch!). On Friday, I "worked" by the pool all day, because hey! It was actually summer in Napa! Not the ridiculous 50 degrees we had yesterday in the Bay Area that's prompted us all to turn on our heaters and don our woolly best. Any time I'm in above-70 weather this summer, I fully intend to get my tan on. I'm a total sun person, in case you can't tell, so it's quite ironic that the only vacation I'm taking that isn't work related this summer is to Alaska.
After successfully frying my right side -- who's the idiot who failed to put on sunscreen? and the tard who sat typing away for three hours with her same side faced toward the sun? -- I drove to Davis via Lake Berryessa to pick Scott up at Amtrak and drive the rest of the way to Nevada City. We were meeting his fam at the annual Grass Valley Bluegrass Festival the following day, so we used the opportunity to check out the area for the book. Nevada City is the cutest little town in Gold Country, and I wished we could have stayed longer. Plus! It's only 45 minutes from Reno -- who knew? -- and while I've never been to Vegas, I did learn to ski (and gamble!) after a trip to Reno and Tahoe when I was 8. I love it there (or at least Eight-Year-Old Self loved it there).
We stayed at this adorable brand new B&B, Bella Rosa Inn -- should you ever be passing through, DEFINITELY check it out -- and got up early the next morning to head to the festival campground, where the whole crew had already set up shop. Now, I love Scott's entire family as if they were my own (they kind of are these days anyhow), and since I don't have children of my own to brag on, and The Cat is only interesting once in a blue moon, I have to dote on Scott's niece and nephew, Jack, 2, and Kiva, 4. Everyone says this about "their kids" but I mean it when I say these two are the cutest, most intelligent children you'll ever meet (if you don't believe me, read this). We spent several hours grooving to the bluegrass and hanging with them before packing up and driving the two hours back to Wine Country -- Rutherford, if you're keeping track -- where we spent a relaxing evening at Rancho Caymus Inn (highly recommended again, if you're ever in Wine Country -- actually, while we're on the topic, if you ever do venture out this way, I'd be happy to plan your entire trip for you...God knows I've stayed in enough places to qualify as an expert).
The next day, we headed even farther west, almost to the coast, on the way to cover Outstanding in the Field in Marin County that evening -- an event which I will rehash in detail at a later date . We stopped over in Petaluma, which I had just been reading about in Sunset mag the previous day. Cute town though it is, we quickly bored of it, though were surprised to see that Billy Bob Thornton and his band (he has musical aptitude??? News to me, too!) will be playing there on July 11. Were it not one of my favorite people's 30th birthday that same night, I might be inclined to make the trek back to Petaluma and check it all out. I actually interviewed Billy Bob Thornton three years ago when he was doing press for School for Scoundrels, and he's surprisingly charming and uncreepy in person (aside from that whole blood-in-the-vial Angelina Jolie bidness).
And while I'm putting my own self to sleep typing this post -- have I really become that boring? I blame it on the onset of fatigure; even though I slept a good 10 hours last night, 18 miles drains you of any and all personality -- I'll save you any future boredom and leave you with some pictures instead. And promise you next time to do better. Or take a blogging class. Or do something that actually merits an interesting post (not that the bluegrass festival wasn't a load of fun, because it totally was! There just weren't any naked hippies or other interesting mishaps for me to snark away at).
How was everyone else's weekend? How did you celebrate Father's Day? Sadly, I couldn't be with my own father -- but he was rocking out to Willie Nelson at Bonnaroo, so I don't think my presence was missed -- but I will get around to a daddy post sometime this week... Also, on a totally random aside, I'm heading to Paso Robles/San Luis Obispo/Pismo and Avila Beaches early tomorrow morning for five days -- any chance any of you live down there and want to meet up? Or else have recommendations on what to do, where to eat?
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He dressed himself ... no really, he insisted on tie-dye. Dude's wiser than his years: It was a hippie fest after all.
Those eyes are going to break many a girl's heart one day.
Jack to Kiva: "Sissy, you have chocolate on your face!" Someone's one to talk.
Who invited the snowflake?
I made fun of Scott for ordering a snowcone when there was perfectly good ice cream to be had (who orders ice shavings as opposed to a cold, creamy cup of lard, I ask you?). Then I proceeded to eat more than half of his...hence the red tongue.
Scott and bro Jim called each other in advance to coordinate outfits; don't let them tell you any different.
Kiva's pretty face paint didn't last long; it "bothered" her.
5 comments:
My dad lives in Petaluma! After our lunch on 7/14, I'll be spending a couple of days there (before BlogHer). Did you know Winona Ryder is from there?
Scott's brother looks awfully like Mr. Big.
Thanks for the shout out! Glad you got to connect with them even though it wasn't under the most ideal circumstances!
I went to a blue grass concert once in Kentucky, not quite as festive as yours, but it was a cool experience.
That is so cool that your dad was at bonaroo.
18 miles - eat whatever you want. Wow.
A good friend of mine that I grew up with lives in Pismo. Too bad I haven't seen much of the town except for their tiny "downtown" by the wharf, I just go to see her when I'm there.
It just hit me! You live in San Francisco! The greatest city EVERRRRR! I just came back from SF. Spent 5 glorious days there. I even blogged about it!
You are my Queen!
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