Let's see. Today I woke at at 4:30 am, managed a quick hot shower, kissed Candice goodbye (I love how the moment is romantic for the awake but transitory and in the realm of memories for the awoken) and took the livery cab to JFK. Did I manage to eat anything?
On the 678 expressway to the airport, we passed by the pink neon signs on Linden Hotel. What a sad little place. It was shoved onto the side of Linden Boulevard. When I lived in SF, we lived in Hayes Valley close to Linden Lane -- I wonder how the two are connected? There, it was an alley for a few crafts shops and the first Blue Bottle kiosk. I guess I am flying back there today.
Waited at the Virgin America gate for about an hour. Read a few New Yorker articles on the iPad before switching over to the game de jour -- a first person Army shooting game. Pretty addictive, and I was happy to have held onto the intellectual rigors of the New Yorker stories as long as I did -- it was 6 am in any case -- before succumbing to mindless shooting of evil terrorists garbed in the worst stereotypes of Arabs and North Africans.
Flight was uneventful. Paid $4 for a bag of Chex. The couple sitting next to me got up four or five times to use the facilities and so getting an aisle seat didn't look so good. I was jolted awake by a polite excuse me so often that I couldn't manage to sleep. I powered up the laptop to watch a movie about old people and their adventures in India. Seems like there are a few British actors who appear in every role out there. The Exotic Marigold Hotel wasn't a bad movie – well crafted and delivered – but I can't seem to shake my overall cynicism as of late.
In the movie, the everything works out in the end. Some old couples pair off. Some get a second shot at a career. Some resolve their demons. Everything is successful. In real life, most would fall ill or injured or die from the exposure to India. The colors would be overwhelming instead of riotous, the food sickening instead of spiced and the pace would be intolerable instead of charming. There was one character who couldn't take it and she flew back to England -- and her character was the one in the movie that others looked down on.. why couldn't she see the joy and wonder all around her? For me, she was the only one with the grasp on reality.
Got into SFO and had lunch at the airport. Was going to meet Alaric for work but dozed off when I got to Shanan's apartment. Drove with him to his mom's place in Berkeley to pick up Goose – had a good conversation again.
Feel like doing nothing. Malaise. But doing anything -- like writing -- like anything with a repetition -- to get through it.
Tomorrow is a new morning! In San Francisco! By myself! Woo.