C-C-C-California

Remember how I took a trip last year to New England, where I ended up booking the ticket for the wrong day, going to the wrong airport, AND the guy I was seeing ended up being hospitalized for several days after I left? (I know what you're thinking, dumbasses. He had an inner ear infection.)

This time around, I went to Yosemite for a wedding, then spent a few days in and around San Francisco. The bride and I, her trusty bridesmaid, almost missed out flight from O'Hare. One of the bride's bags went missing (and of course it was the one with all of her clothes for her honeymoon). I almost fainted during the wedding and had to sit down and drink water during the vows. When the pal I was visiting near San Fran drove me through the mountain roads, my motion sickness was so bad I had to have him pull over and let me out. And in rare form, I managed to lose my phone. Again.

But all is not tragic: we obviously made it to Cali; the bride's bag was found; she didn't notice my almost-fainting spell, since I was standing behind her; at least I saw some nice mountain scenery; and my phone was found by a lovely cabbie, dropped off at a friend-of-friend's, and will arrive by FedEx tomorrow.

I cannot imagine the near-catastrophes that will ensue on my voyage to Japan, South Korea and New Zealand, with a layover in Shanghai.

Bring it on.

The street signs say Haight and Ashbury, bitches!