On with it. The city is gorgeous, weather while we were there was stunning and we packed in a ton of stuff. So you don’t get bored, go to the usual place and view the snaps. For the rest of you, here’s a quick breakdown:

• California  Academy of Sciences
• Napa Valley (including Peju and other mediocre tastings)
• Golden Gate Bridge
• Piers, a ton of them (What’s with all the coastal towns and all the piers? right?)
• Medjool, Little Baobab, Double Dutch, Oyagi, etc.
• Cable Cars
• Haight Street Festival
• de Young Art Museum
• Baker Beach

It was great fun and a nice reprieve from the day-to-day stress of… well… sitting around trying to find something to do? Thanks to Leah, our host, who doesn’t read this.

The highlight, for me, was attending a Facebook-sponsored event. Just don’t get that sort of stuff around here. Next stop, North Carolina? NYC? Poverty? Stay tuned for all the dicey details.

* If you didn’t get it, not to worry. This is quite possibly the most ambiguous and pathetic attempt at a marijuana reference ever recorded on the interweb. Still, no apologies.

• It resembles an American Australia, founded on getting criminals as far from civilization as possible (until civilization caught up).
• Most things can be bought with gold nuggets (cash is frowned upon).
• There are land sharks (patrolling for any misguided tourists trying to escape from Alcatraz before the tour is finished).
• High speed chases occur, on average, on the hour every hour.
• Parks are filled to brimming with unwashed, dread-locked Phish fans in various stages of public coitus.
• Many places smell of body odor. (The rest smell of weed.)
• Two or three families live under each roof.
• One in every 3.243 people are gay or pretending to be in order to fit in.
• Earthquakes hit every three minutes but no one notices.
• 82% of the population works for Google, Apple, Amazon or [insert other tech giant here]. 3% are bicycle messengers. 16% have are unemployed (preferring a hand-rolled cigarette to a cubicle). (64% never took math.)

We’re hoping to get some sight-seeing in and will be headed to the Harmony Festival. Basically, I’m leaving the epicenter of MSP hippie to the epicenter of US hippie and going to a hippie festival. (One can’t get enough corporatized free love, I guess.)

Granted, as I’ve never been, I am completely could be wrong. I’ll try to relay some true-to-life details once I’m back… If I remember them after leaving the thick haze of second-hand toke.

* Based solely on television, (too many) movies, personal bias and a solid grasp of public-school-provided US history.

Saturday, I was handed a speeding citation. The fine was about $180. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to take the situation seriously. This could be for a few reasons…

• I was pulled over by someone younger than me. It’s the first time that’s happened. Just the gravity of it had me internal-laughing for miles. (He even had to check with the other officer to be sure they could run a MasterCard. Adorable!)
• I wasn’t necessarily going that fast. I accelerated to pass and was going just under 80mph (according to the speedometer), which is close to my usual speed in Deadzone, WI. He, apparently, clocked me at 81mph but rounded down to save me some cash.
• As we neared the patrol car before he’d pulled out after us, the elder officer pointed at us emphatically and then to the side of the road. Repeatedly. This, for some reason, was hilarious. As if to say, “we got you, yes you, no really, you, definitely,” through exaggerated gestures (in a squeaky, pre-teen voice; imagined).
• But most importantly, when averaged against the times I’ve sped along I94 since moving for school, the cost is negligible. In fact, (if I were to make up a number that sounds like an estimate) it’s probably cost me about $1.37 each time I jumped above 65mph.

I’m going to write in to maybe reduce the number of points taken but am unable to stress. This begs the question: is there an age where a speeding ticket is on par with finding another mole? Or is it just my history of traffic violations that has me seeing this as a non-issue?

Note: Considering the easy curves, relatively sporadic traffic and distance from cultured civilization, the stretch between Madison and Eau Claire (or even Minneapolis) should be set to at least 70mph during daylight.

Bottle Shock

Bottle Shock
… is about wine production in Napa, or more specifically, the wine production that won the taste test in France in the seventies that disassembled the “French wine is superior always” myth. The story is interesting but is weighed down by unnecessary plot filler, mediocre to poor acting and a yawn top coat.

It’s the Dumb and Dumberer to Sideways‘ Dumb and Dumber, if that makes sense. (It doesn’t.)

Ghost Town
… is entertaining for one reason: Ricky Gervais. His unassuming, self-deprecation makes it watchable. Still, the premise is trite, acting is beige and story is redundantly meh. Gervais plays a guy who dies a little and starts seeing dead folk.

There are some bit characters that are funny, like a naked guy (you wear what you die in, apparently) or his flaky doctor but outside of Gervais, the main cast sucks like a commercial Hoover. Rent a season or both of “Extras” or BBC’s “The Office” and have a night of it.

City of Ember

City of Ember
… is a kids movie? Maybe. In any case, it’s one of those movies about how the world’s ending and we need someone to save us. It seems a thinly veiled metaphor for the sinking ship we call America. Watch it with your preteen and explain how we’re all going to die. It should make for a fun-flooded night in.

A note on Tim Robbins: From what I gather of his last few movies, he’s now famous enough to pick and choose his movies according to how hilarious him being in it would be (Anchorman) or how strongly the plot addresses one of his pet peeves (Noise, The Lucky Ones, this one).

Maybe that’s why they’ve all been so popular…

Nights in Rodanthe
… is terrible. I didn’t see the entire thing but won’t waste your time going into details. Rent it when you’re middle-aged, married for too long and wondering where you went wrong in so many ways. Then maybe you’ll find it mediocre (or adequate background noise while you slowly and repeatedly cut into your thighs with your husband/wife’s dull razor).

• Flight there… was great. It had all the amenities of home. (As long as you live in a small-seated movie theater with too-few-for-the-crowd portable toilets with used diapers and pools of urine.)
• Convenience stores… are surprisingly common. (Three within two blocks of where we stayed.) This may be because, despite being a massive metropolis, interweb is hard to come by. Most shops had computer kiosks for pay-per-minute use. (Culture shock!)
• Weather… was decent. It was cloudy the first few days but became sunny and hot the rest. Up to nearly 40°C (104°F) actually. (Honestly, down right uncomfortable.)
• Opera House and Harbour Bridge… are gorgeous. The House is oddly yellow but still stunning. We walked along the bridge and that was… um… exhausting. (Gorgeous views, though.)
• Sydney Tower… is nice. The views aren’t spectacular in the scenic tourist sense but they’re great nonetheless. They force you into a nauseating simulation ride afterward, touring the various parts of Australia via giant screen and hilariously bad effects, so that’s ridiculous.
• Tangora Zoo… is pretty standard. If it weren’t for the views of the harbor from a bunch of places, it’d be sort of mediocre. Tons of local animals and cool others but nothing super extraordinary.
• Sydney Aquarium… is unreal. Most of the animals are staples but they have two tanks that make it tops on my list. Both have tunnels that look into the tanks, allowing fish to swim over them. One held dugongs (hideous, endangered beasts of disgusting). The other was a sweet shark tank with manta rays, sea turtles and varied sharks and other fish. (Twas awesome.)
• Arena television… is tremendously vacuous. It’s branded the same as Bravo but has a strange mix of too much American television. (Reba, Ellen, Sex and the City, etc.) It also has a show where people are brought on and then vote off the ugliest existing cast member. (This, I imagine, goes on perpetually or until there’s a suicide.)
• Liquor pricing… is absurd. A liter of Bacardi cost almost $AU60 (≈ $38) or close to twice what it’d cost here. Also, the anti-binge-drinking ads are rough. Here’s one. (PDF)
• Obesity… is epidemic. I thought my sister was lying when she said Aussies passed us on the scale last year but it’s true. It’s probably because they’ve started to drive everywhere, watch more television and are more sedentary. (Glad that never happened in the US.)
• Oz-let… is my name for a bizarre hairstyle too many men have. In various forms, it’s basically a mullet with spikes and cropped, matted-down “bangs.” (Horrid, yet popular. Trying to understand it makes my eyes faint.) Some even buzz most their head, leaving just the partying-hard rear hair flap.
• Public transit… is fairly reliable (if not on time). But for one point where a bus, labeled as the one we wanted, took us through a couple neighborhoods west of where we wanted. The buses run on natural gas. So that’s… um… something.
• Bondi Beach, Coogee Beach… are great beaches with a path between that has more beaches and great views. Both are probably packed on weekends but we caught them on Wednesday. (Aside: Australia goes by the “topless optional” standard. Which, I assume, is one of many reasons they’re such a violent, war-hungry people, spreading their way of life across the globe through force.)
• “O’Shea”… is what I’ve named a pint of Kilkenny, topped off with a splash of Guinness. (Bonus: it was a screw up at the bar so it was free on top of being better than a standard Kilkenny.)
• Darling Harbour… is good times. It’s full of restaurants and attractions (Aquarium).
• Blue Mountains… are blue because of evaporating eucalyptus oil reflecting certain light frequencies. There are so many trees. Unbelievable really. I’d tell you how far we hiked but we’re stubbornly holding onto our useless in/ft/yd/mi system so even I don’t know.
• The Rocks… is a cool neighborhood under the Bridge. The buildings and feel seem from a different time. Because they are, probably.
• Kangaroo… is great for the environment, good for you and has a… livery? texture. Not bad but nothing I’m going to import. May be better in a steak or as a burger but the sausages went well enough with eggs and cheese.
• Flight back… was excruciating. Between 1p and 8p Saturday, we were on a plane or in an airport for twenty-five hours. We landed in LAX six hours before we left. That’s basically time travel and is havoc on the slumber system. (Still, it was better than the return from Cabo.)

All in all, there was a lot of flying, a lot of walking, a lot of fun and a lot of flying. Big thanks to the parents for their generous financial donation that made it possible. And thanks to our hosts (including my new self-appointed BFF) who tolerated double occupancy without complaint (to me).

As you may suspect after that last point, I’m exhausted and my nocturnals are tweaked. I slept eleven hours yesterday, waking at noon. Then I was awake until two-thirty before a short nap and back up again for an hour or so. Apparently, this is jet-lag.

… Today, for me, is a half day. To say I’m looking forward to my trip to Sydney is an understatement. But so is saying I’m not excited about the travel. Here’s how I imagine the trip going:

• Depart to Chicago, 3.30p today. Finish one book because it’s written at a third-grade reading level (Left Behind series… heard of it?)
• Fly to San Francisco. Hustle desperately for connecting flight with only an hour betwixt.
• Fly to Sydney. Finish another book, pace incessantly, twitch uncontrollably, cry incrementally and murmur gibberish constantly.
• Arrive in Sydney, 8a Sunday. Wobble off the plane on atrophied legs, kiss the ground and start greeting everyone with “g’day mate!” in a terrible British accent.

Return trip:

• Repeat the above, in backward order, replacing SFO with LAX and doing it all within one day. End with crushing jet-lag.

… Because of the above, posts next week will be sparse or non-existent. No apologies, just like last time.

… Every month, we have an employee newsletter. (Think, “how could an office be more lame?” and you can probably imagine most of the topics covered.) I, (un)fortunately, was chosen this month.

I was emailed a set of questions and I answered most of them, as honest as possible, thinking they wouldn’t take as many as they did. The “interview” is as follows, word for word but for some anonymity-motivated redacting. (Links added.)

• Where did you grow up? [Hometown]. Northwest of Milwaukee.
• What are your plans for the holidays this year? I’m going back to MKE for Christmas, then to Cabo San Lucas until New Years Day.
• What’s on your wish list? Money, clothes and money. In that order.
• If you were not in Marketing at [Employer], what else what [sic] you like to do as a career? Design websites for small and medium sized businesses from somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe become a retiree. I hear good things.
• What are some of your hobbies? Watching movies, blogging, snowboarding (theoretically) and darts.
• Describe your favorite thing to do on the weekend during Minnesota winters. Relaxing with a movie, a fire and some drinks with a few choice friends.
• What is your order at your favorite restaurant? Juicy Lucy with pepperjack in the center, cheddar on top and jojo’s on the side at the 5.8 Club or a medium meatball and chicken pizza from Fat Lorenzo’s.
• What did you want to be when you grew up? A lottery winner.
• What’s the last concert you went to? Kings of Leon at the State Theater.
• What is the most interesting place you’ve ever traveled to? The NW coast, Portland and Seattle. Which just barely beat out Wall Drug by a few figurative miles.
• What will your News Years Resolution(s) be for 2009? To take certain things less seriously, others more seriously and to enjoy every day more than I’ve enjoyed the last. That, or to lose ten pounds.

… and finally:
It looks like I’m headed to Vegas in March. I have no idea how I’m going to do this but there’s a wedding in the works. (Sacrifices right? ::snicker::)

The resort is wicked (snaps in the usual places). The rooms are set in separate buildings, white concrete with clay roofs, with a pool, jacuzzi, dining, bar area in the center. I spent a lot of time there.

We hung around with Girlfriend’s aunt and her family the first two nights (our trips overlapped). We walked around the property during the day, taking snaps. We found out how to get to Wal-Mart, wandered into some abandoned near-houses (peso devaluation, divestment, hurricane) and chilled.

Saturday we had lunch at Gardenias, a local dive with the best tacos I’ve ever eaten (sans-cheese no less). Monday we hit the marina (too many too-eager merchants of too much junk), Lover’s Beach (touches both the Pacific and the Gulf of Mexico) and resort row (called the main beach but only about 300 square yards isn’t associated with a bar or hotel).

Monday night we stayed in with some wine. Tuesday night we went to Cabo Wabo to watch old people rip rug to Sammy Hagar and Toby Keith (way more awesome than it sounds). Wednesday was New Years and I spent it on the beach watching two members of Idle Eyes in their new band, wearing a sweater and jeans, drinking Mexican beer.

Thursday we were supposed to leave, which you all know already.

I’ll get to the scrotum tearing awesome that is the bulk of my trip a bit later. Today, let me rehash things more fresh on my neurons.

Our flight was set to leave Thursday afternoon, for transfer in Phoenix to Milwaukee. Instead, seven hours was spent waiting on a broken plane (while two other flights took off on schedule) before we were shipped to a family-oriented, Hilton-Express-style all-inclusive with orders to return Friday.

There was an impressively terrible Latin dance show, some unfortunate buffet-style dining and a bunch of tweens that probably popped their first pube over the scantily clad, talent-free dancers. The experience was almost hilarious enough to make the destroyed plans, hectic schedule and lack of worthwhile customer service worth it. (Almost.)

Friday, we arrived at the airport about 8am. We waited until about eleven, took off, and landed. We talked to a few personnel, learned no one below some guy (named Chet in a dark office, taking hits off a 20oz Mountain Dew, offering vouchers on whims) has any actual power and found out there was nothing “they” could do but for $20 in meal vouchers.

Girlfriend and I wandered about the Phoenix airport (Chili’s!), made overdue phone calls and played on their free interweb. For seven hours. After another hour delay (with an awesome bump to first class) we ended up back in Milwaukee about 1.30am.

The experience was what I imagine being scalped is like. I can only hope Girlfriend’s strongly (and well) worded email reaches someone at US Airways (Chet?) to compensate our frustration.

Again, more on the holiday break (a week late) in coming days.

Dinner turned out to be some sort of Top Chef-esque dinner party (courtesy @joejanas). There was a lot of drinking, followed by Tuman’s for more.

Saturday, Andrew started things off with a gigantic breakfast and then we went to Wicker Park, wandered Milwaukee and stopped in for some local retail at Urban Outfitters. For dinner, we went to Coast Sushi Bar.

Andrew talked up the specialty roll, named White Dragon, as if it were a mythical potion of sex, drugs and teen pop hits. Turns out, he downplayed it slightly. From there we went to Horseshoe to watch Fox and the Grapes and the Screaming Bulldogs. (All while drinking; obviously.)

Sunday, I went grocery shopping with Andrew and we headed downtown to meet Nate so he could head back to “the Burgh.” We had obligatory (and delicious) deep-dish at Exchequer. Andrew headed off and I wandered downtown a bit before catching the bus.

Thanks to Andrew for the hosting, Joe for the grub and Coast for a reason to live. (I’d apologize to Jo for not meeting up but she’s not a reader.)

With the drunk sleep and only two hours rest last night, the excessive walking in cold weather and the brutal ingestion battle that raged between myself and the part of my brain that recognizes limits, I’m the worse for the wear. My head and legs ache, my right foot had some sort of shooting pain last night and I’m serenading my co-cube-dwellers with a tone-deaf dry cough.

Snaps are, or will be, in the usual places. As I wander through occupational tasks in a groggy mist of wish-I-wasn’t-here, I’ll leave you with this, unrelated, question: why is this desperate call for spousal commitment seen as empowering?