Chino Hills, CA to Casa Grande, AZ
Packed up what is hopefully enough clothing and miscellaneous stuff to get me by in corporate housing until I find a permanent residence and have my household stuff shipped out to Florida. In case you have forgotten, Mister Q is a MINI Cooper S. Not huge, but if you know how to do it, a lot can be fit into him. Everything I had planned to take fit nicely into Mister Q. I knew it would, yet I found myself thinking “thank goodness I don’t still drive a Corvette.”
Actually if I did, there would be no way I’d be driving across country. My Vette got a whopping 11 MPG.
Anyway, after a stop at Starbucks (Grande Decaf Peppermint Mocha, non-fat, no whip), we were on our way. I left late enough to miss the Monday morning commuter traffic. But not late enough to hit the trash detail on the 10 in Fontana. WHY do they close down two lanes of a freeway to pick up trash on the side of the road? Whatever.
Once I reached Palm Springs, it became a boring drive. It’s all desert, which means nothing but brown sand, rocks and some joshua trees or cactus. The scenery was broken up by occasional road kill. (The only thing I could actually identify was a coyote).
A gas stop in Quartzsite, two rest area stops, and 8 hours later I have checked into my hotel for the evening. Score! As a kiss-up card member I received a certificate for a free drink and a free dessert. I passed on dessert, but of course took advantage of the drink. 
So far I’ve not liked driving through Arizona. Why? None of their rest stops are open! I know it’s scorching hot here (It’s going to be 90 tomorrow), do people not have to pee in this state? Mister Q may be a comfortable car to drive, but even I need to stop every now and then to stretch my legs out.
I also don’t like that they use Photo Radar in this state. ON THE FREEWAYS! Obeying speed limits isn’t one of my strong points. (see Mister’s Q’s early days in TN).
Day trip time. Off to the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library Mister Q and I went. I don’t know that this can be classified as a road trip or a day trip. I thought I was going to be traveling farther. The Reagan Library is in “the other valley.”
Portrait of President Reagan - made of Jelly Bellys
Simi Valley to be exact. On a Sunday, and hour and a half a way. The same drive during the week, probably 3 hours.
Anyway, it’s a trip I’d been meaning to take for quite some time. Ever since my friend Red Stapler Boy told me about his visits. He thought it might be a place I’d like.
He was right.
I spent almost 6 hours there, walking through all the exhibits and roaming around the grounds. There was more I wanted to see, and some exhibits I could have spent more time perusing. It was weird to be seeing so much of our history in one place.
I can’t really say which was my favorite part. The Salute to Heroes exhibit where I saw the bullhorn President Bush used at Ground Zero. The military displays. Hollywood. The media. The Oval Office. The artwork. Walking through the very Air Force One former Presidents have flown. The gardens. The view over the grounds. I think mostly I liked reading the personal correspondence and speeches. With each speech I read, I remembered hearing the President say those very words. It wasn’t like learning about something in a history book. These were all things that happened in my lifetime.
It was a nice way to spend my last day in California.
Berlin Wall - West Berlin Side
Today’s the first day I don’t have a hangover from cold medicine. Hope that means this cold is on the way out and I can get back to running soon. There’s a 5K in Jacksonville I’d like to do … at this point I seriously doubt I can even eek out a 5K run. That kind of sucks!
Speaking of Hangover … if you haven’t seen it, I recommend the movie.
Today, probably against my better judgment, I went for a 1 mile run. Okay, some walking was involved. I have a cold that is trying to settle in my chest. I’m winning that battle so far, but it still can cause me to cough a bit. So far one of my lungs hasn’t hit the sidewalk, so all is well.
The extra effort needed to tackle the hills plus my temporarily diminished lung capacity equaled a lot gasping and overall a not so great workout. Good news is my toe didn’t hurt!
In other news, Mister Q went back into the shop. He’s been leaking “something” since he came out of the shop last time. (It wasn’t oil or brake fluid so I didn’t really care). One of his mechanics just called and started the conversation with “I have a bit of bad news.”
“A bit of bad news” in mechanic-speak translates to: this is gonna cost you some serious cash. Before Mister Q, I drove a Corvette. (The white 82 was my favorite of the two by the way… damn I miss that car). I have to get that little white corvette dig in when ever I can; somebody knows who it’s aimed at. Unfortunately the world of Corvette ownership has jaded me when it comes to repair cost. I didn’t think Mister Q’s bad news was all that fatal. An ABS speed sensor on one wheel has been causing the Christmas tree of idiot lights to go off in my dashboard, and a couple of power steering hoses need to be replaced. The PS hoses piss me off a bit. I had the whole freaking rack n pinion assembly replaced last spring. (It’s leaked a little bit since then). I really think they should have caught it with the first.
I told the Mechanic to let me know if they see anything else wrong when they give it a once over. I know two minor things are wrong with Mister Q … let’s see if they tell me.
Yup. I am starting to get a cold. I want to hunt down and hurt Miss Snotty Nose from my recent flight. I’ve got a runny nose, and have been sneezing. I’ve got the start of a sore throat. All classic cold symptoms for me. I’ve got the fixins for chicken soup, and am heading into the kitchen in just a bit to make a batch.
I don’t have time to be sick. I have too much to do!
Crap! I just realized I don’t have two weeks, I have 7 days. 7! 
To get Mister Q into the shop, get things organized and figure out just how much I can cram into my little Mini before I begin my drive across country.
Minis are actually roomier than they appear, I know I can get a lot into it … it just never seems like quite enough when I’ve got to move me and the basics in this car.
I’m one step ahead of the game. I’ve already mapped out my trip through AAA So Cal. Right now I’ve got it planned for 5 days. Though I know I can drive from Los Angeles to Atlanta in 3 days, so I might shave a day off of it. I wanted to hit San Antonio. New Orleans would have been nice, but it takes me just a little bit out of the way.
This will be my 4th time driving across the country. I’ve learned a few things along the way. The fact that I’ve mapped it out and will print the map, is one. The Nav Lady seems to always go bonkers in Texas. I have a spare DVD for the Nav Lady. That’s lesson 2. 8-10 hours driving max. That’s lesson 3. Don’t let the gas gauge get below 2 bars (that’s a quarter tank for Mister Q) … ESPECIALLY in Texas! Lesson 4 learned the hard way. Charge my cell phone every night … yeah especially in Texas. Lesson 5 … which is common sense with my crappy cell phone that holds a charge for a day if I’m lucky.
I’ve had a lot of mishaps in Texas. You’ve probably figured that out.
I have accepted a job in Jacksonville, Florida. In two short weeks you’ll be reading the travels of Mr. Q going cross country … yet again.
My Killer Cute Trench
This is my killer cute Anne Klein trench coat. I bought it nearly two years ago when I arrived in So Cal. I fell in love with it when I spotted it on the rack at Macy’s. I didn’t fall in love with the price tag. Later that afternoon walking through Nordstrom Rack, I spotted it. Major clearance price. Major score! I’ve yet to wear it.
It hasn’t really rained.
After I accepted this job offer in Jacksonville I thought, “I may actually get to wear my rain coat!” It had poured the night I was in town.
Now you may think I have abandoned running. I haven’t. I’ve been walking 1 to 2 miles when I can. Running has actually been in the forefront of my thoughts. With relocation comes finding a new area to call home. I found myself adding to my list of housing requirements – it needs a place where I can run safely in the early morning or evenings, with minimal chance of being plowed down by a car.
In my research with Mister Google, I have found that running is quite popular in Jacksonville. Races are scheduled every month of the year except July and August. I think this will be a good thing.
I’ve already shared with you my challenge with getting lost … A LOT. Running in a new town will present some problems. Florida is very flat. I have zero sense of direction when I don’t have the ocean or mountains in front of me. (The ocean is on the wrong side!) Maybe I should rethink a GPS for running. 
My flights home I am happy to report where less hectic. I don’t adjust to time changes overnight. Especially at bed time. I tried to tell myself I should go to bed at 10pm, but my body kept saying WTF are you doing? It’s 7pm! Suffice to say I tossed n turned until about 2am — my alarm went off at 4am.
My first stop after security was Starbucks. I may drink decaf, but I still need some coffee to wake up. The flight from Jacksonville to Houston was on one of those little bitty commuter planes. So small that they gate check your carry on luggage. Where even I at 5’9” tall have to duck a little. I settled into my single seat, and proceeded to try to drift back to sleep.
Sniffle. Snuffle. Blow. Blow. Sniffle. Blowwwww. 2 freaking hours. This is all I heard. The girl behind me apparently had a cold. IF I GET SICK BECAUSE OF THIS INCONSIDERATE MORON … oh will I be mad. Now you all know I have allergies and I can go through my fair share of tissues when I am running. But hello! TWO HOURS?? They make medicine for this!
After we deplane, standing with other business type folks waiting for our carry-ons, Miss Snot Nose walks past us, still blowing her nose. The man behind me said “wasn’t that f’ing annoying?” I had to laugh.
IAH, was freezing. I’d almost wished I only had to spend 9 minutes in this airport. They need to reassess their air conditioning temps. Dang. So now it’s 7am and I am thinking breakfast might be in order. I find some little cafeteria place and go to the pastry/coffee side. I see bagel and cream cheese on the menu. Yum. That sounds like it will hit the spot. I order it. We go through the motions of what type of bagel I’d like. I say plain. The counter girl asks “white?”
I have never in my life heard a bagel called “white.” I only started calling it a plain bagel when too many times I’d had to explain what the heck a water bagel was. My bagel gets sliced and put into the toaster then the counter person says “oh I forgot to tell you we’re out of cream cheese. Is that ok?” I look at her. Is she for real? “No, it’s not okay. Sorry, I don’t want the bagel then.” She could have mentioned that at the beginning perhaps.
Yeah I can be a little bitchy. 
I am working on 2 hours of sleep here.
After freezing for about an hour, it’s time to board the plane headed for Ontario where it will surely be warmer than this airport! I settle into my first class seat and just as I am nodding off it’s time for breakfast. Hmmm. My choice is fruit and cereal or eggs.
Here’s a tidbit on me and eggs. I’ve been known to barf at just the smell of cooked eggs, let alone the site. Naturally I request cereal and fruit, and pray everyone around me orders the same.
What does the flight attendant set in front of me??? A nice warm plate of ooey gooey EGGS. It took half an hour and half a can of ginger ale before my seatmate was fairly certain I wasn’t about to reach for the barf bag.
For the record, it was not warmer in Ontario than IAH. Fall has truly arrived in Southern California.
I ran a little. Against Doctor’s orders. I had no choice! HONEST!
I had a flight to catch, and found myself doing an OJ. I had a very early morning flight. I cut it a little too close. Fortunately I flew out of Ontario and not LAX. I got to the airport 15 minutes before my flight was to leave. I parked Mr. Q in the first lot I came to, pulled out my luggage. started walking very quickly and said F this! And ran. Fortunately it’s a small airport.
I was parked in lot two, and departed from Terminal 3. There were about 5 people in line at security, but I saw a TSA person standing by an elevator. I got in line, but turned around and whispered to the TSA guy … “can I use that?” He nodded, so off I dashed. He checked my docs quickly and even told me which way to turn after the x-ray part to get to my gate.
Someone let me cut in front of them, I put all my stuff on the conveyor, took off my flip flops, and breezed through. Collected my stuff and was off running again. I got to the gate just as they were closing the door. Whew! If I hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have made it.
I had a bulkhead seat which would have been perfect except the lady seated in the middle seat … well … she didn’t quite all fit in her seat. I felt sorry for her, because there was just no way she could have been comfortable. This was only going to be a two hour flight so no harm no foul.
But then …
“Folks, this is your Captain. Bad news. Houston is Closed. We’re going to sit here for about an hour.”
One hour turned into two. The only thing that kept me from being outright miserable was the leg room. I wouldn’t have been able to tolerate Mrs. Generous Butt Cheeks AND my knees crammed into the back of a seat.
I was starving. I hadn’t even had a cup of coffee. The flight attendants did serve us beverages while we sat on the tarmac. They only had regular coffee. No decaf. For Mrs. Generous Butt Cheeks sake, I figured it would be best if I didn’t get any caffeine in me. (I fidget … alot).
The pilot then broke the news it would be another hour, but we’d stay in the plane. He moved us to an old section of the runway. Now if you know Ontario, you know that it was a very small regional airport. Where you stood outdoors behind a chain link fence to meet arriving planes. You boarded the planes going up and down stairs. They used to let you deplane through the rear end of a plane. A “country airport” they used to call it.
So here we are rolling down a bumpy section of runway. I look out the window and see the chain link fences, tin roof awnings, single cement bench marking each gate. We’re at the old terminals. This brings back memories … but also a flash of confusion. Didn’t Jack Bauer blow this place up? (Day 5, during crazy President Logan’s rein).
Okay. So we finally get up in the air, and a little bit into our flight they serve us breakfast. (Continental in case you are wondering what airlines still serve breakfast). But alas. I am sitting bulkhead which means my tray table is in one of the armrests. You guess it. It’s under Mrs. Generous Butt Cheeks left butt cheek. I couldn’t see the armrest to know for certain it was there, so I asked the flight attendant where it was. And there I found myself apologizing to Mrs. Generous Butt Cheeks. WTF! Why am I apologizing for asking her to move her butt cheek so I can get my tray table??? Getting the tray back in was worse than getting it out … I don’t care to relive that experience. Sorry.
Now what gets me, is Mr. Generous Butt Cheeks was sitting in the aisle seat. Why they opted to stick the larger of the two of them in the middle seat, is beyond me. Folks. Come on. When you don’t fit in an airline seat, you know it. Be a little courteous at least.
Back to running. We land in Houston at gate C. My next flight I learn from the gate agent departs from gate E at 1:45pm. I look at my watch, adjust for the time zone and see I’ve got exactly 9 minutes to get to a gate that is two and a half terminals away. *$#@!
When I arrived, having obviously been at a full run (in flip flops), the gate agent said in a very snotty tone. “You should have got here earlier.” Just as snotty I said “Then y’all shouldn’t have delayed my plane 2 hours.” As I smiled big and added “bitch” under my breath.
I settled into my first class seat and drank 3 glasses of Chardonay. I helped the old guy sitting next to me open his bag of crackers. (hey I have arthritis, I know how frustrating a bag of crackers, chips or cashews can be). I arrived in Jacksonville buzzed.
My toe felt fine even doing my running in flip flops. I have sore spots on the balls of both my feet where they rubbed and tried to get a blister going. I’m guessing the guys at the running store don’t exactly consider flip flops a good running shoe. I agree.
