I'm on the train to San Diego currently, what while the LA portion of my trip was busy and anazing and will warrant its own post, getting to the second part of my California trip has not been smooth sailing.
But, I whined about it enough and instead I'm going to talk about one of the great, little parts of LA.
I was pretty massively scheduled, and there was so much I wanted to do that I couldn't fit in. I was spending Sunday at Disneyland, but I had jet lag, which meant I was up earlier than I needed to. So I decided to use the time before my friends picked me up to drive to Long Beach.
I spent most of my time in LA living in an old apartment in that city, and it was barely legal. I had a bedroom made of styrofoam and we passed down the apartment from person to person so that people ended up being completely left off leases and the rental company got away with doing shady things because of it. But I loved it. I loved the area, and while I'm not one to lay out on a beach for hours, I spent a lot of time driving to the beach to sit and get away for a while. When my parents went through their divorce I'd put on my headphones and angrily walk the twenty minutes to the beach, walk in the water some, and then I'd be madder at the hill of stairs by the end than I could be at any person. I went back there now, when it was overcast and cool, parked in front of one of the houses I always wanted to live in and walked down the stairs.
I love the city. But the beach is filthy. It's covered in trash, and it's a little scary to walk barefoot, but I went up to the water, kicked off my flip flops, and walked in the water for a little bit. Just a few minutes, since I had to get back to the hotel for my pickup, and took pictures before heading back up the giant stairs.
I got in my rental car and said aloud, "It smells like gross beach in here."
It didn't stop me from going to my favorite coffee shop, too. It's called Portfolio, on 4th and Junipero, and I spent a lot of time there when the Internet would be down. I got a Mexican hot chocolate, loved how so many of the pastries are vegan now, and saw that the clientele now is largely white-haired people at 7 am on a Sunday morning.
I got back to my hotel with just enough time to step into the shower to scrub the beach smell off my feet before my friends showed up. Totally worth it.
16.7.16
Currently: O'Hare Airport
I've flown dozens upon dozens of times, mostly through O'Hare or LAX. I'd been warned about TSA lines, so I downloaded the MyTSA app, figured with a 10-20 security line wait I was good, and Nick dropped me off at O'Hare at 7 am for a 9:15 flight.
Oh dear god. This airport was not this bad before, I swear. I got there and walked into a wall of people. I had to ask "What airline is this for?" to the longest line, only to be told, "All of them. It's for dropping off luggage."
I checked in, got in line, then was told it should have printed out the luggage tag, then had to go back to the counter.
"Is it always this bad?" I asked.
"Well, it's the weekend," said the woman at the counter. "All these flights are taking off at once, and it gets... busy."
"That was super diplomatic," I said.
She smiled and said thank you, and directed me to the end of the luggage line, which had gotten longer.
I made friends in line. There was a woman from LA who was worried about making her 8:00 flight, and a student from St. Maarten who was willing to tell me all about how much he does not like it there. "At least your violence is interesting, and causes discussion," he said. "Nothing to discuss there." Mostly we complained about how much the line to just leave out luggage was not moving, but I weirdly got a chance to show off my airport skills by giving advice on what to do if you miss your flight, or how to skip ahead in the security line when you need to book it.
The security line was no problem. I had to walk further but I got to go right through, and they threw me in an expedited security line because it was open.
Currently I'm at the gate, hoping the LA lady made her flight since I don't see her here, and I'm Watching two women try to catch a sparrow who's decided to hang out in the seat next to me. I swear my airport experiences at more interesting than most people's.
If you want to see more of my California adventures, I'm on Instagram at @thereandbackblog and I'm tweeting at @gothereandback. The sparrow next to me is also tweeting.
Oh dear god. This airport was not this bad before, I swear. I got there and walked into a wall of people. I had to ask "What airline is this for?" to the longest line, only to be told, "All of them. It's for dropping off luggage."
I checked in, got in line, then was told it should have printed out the luggage tag, then had to go back to the counter.
"Is it always this bad?" I asked.
"Well, it's the weekend," said the woman at the counter. "All these flights are taking off at once, and it gets... busy."
"That was super diplomatic," I said.
She smiled and said thank you, and directed me to the end of the luggage line, which had gotten longer.
I made friends in line. There was a woman from LA who was worried about making her 8:00 flight, and a student from St. Maarten who was willing to tell me all about how much he does not like it there. "At least your violence is interesting, and causes discussion," he said. "Nothing to discuss there." Mostly we complained about how much the line to just leave out luggage was not moving, but I weirdly got a chance to show off my airport skills by giving advice on what to do if you miss your flight, or how to skip ahead in the security line when you need to book it.
The security line was no problem. I had to walk further but I got to go right through, and they threw me in an expedited security line because it was open.
Currently I'm at the gate, hoping the LA lady made her flight since I don't see her here, and I'm Watching two women try to catch a sparrow who's decided to hang out in the seat next to me. I swear my airport experiences at more interesting than most people's.
If you want to see more of my California adventures, I'm on Instagram at @thereandbackblog and I'm tweeting at @gothereandback. The sparrow next to me is also tweeting.
10.7.16
A love letter to LA
I never really felt like I fit in in Chicago. Don't get me wrong, I love it and think of it as one of the greatest cities in the world. I love the architecture and people and pizza and its museums and culture and there's so much to do and there is much sportsball. But it has its issues. It's too cold, it's too hot, it's violent... In 2003, I was living in the western suburbs, I was surrounded by a lot of people who had no problem dropping racist or homophobic language around to the point where I was really uncomfortable being around them. And I think because I was uncomfortable, I had a hard time being me. I was quiet in conversations and never expressed my opinions and to be completely honest, I felt unappreciated. And then one day in winter, I hit black ice on an overpass while driving home at night and almost wiped out, and I decided I was moving.
I'd been to California before. I don't even know how it happened, but I got it into my head as a kid that I wanted to be famous and live in a house by the beach. You want a lot of things for yourself as a kid, but this stuck. And when I graduated from high school, three months later I was on a plane to LA.
It didn't go well that time. I was living with an online friend who couldn't decide if she wanted me as a roommate or not, her live-in boyfriend harassed me, I didn't know that having a car was imperative there, and so I was never able to find a job because I was limited to basically the mall because it was in walking distance. I lost a lot of weight because I was too poor for food. But I loved it. I'd walk to the store and talk to people on the way. Once I was walking late at night, and there was a group of four black girls across the street who spotted me and called, "Are you alone? No, no, no. We'll protect you," and crossed the street to walk me home. I never felt unsafe in my neighborhood in Culver City, but it was one of the nicest things people have done for me. I had a couple friends, who unfortunately lived in Orange County and so one of them would pick me up and drive me to the other friend's house like they were sharing custody of me. Sometimes I'd have to go to work with Steph because she couldn't drop me off, which was fine by me because I got to go to Disneyland for free then, where I mostly people-watched. We'd hang out on Hollywood Boulevard and pick up things meant for tourists that meant that I could be an extra in a movie, or run around on Aliso Beach too late and night and lose our shoes. Once we drove to the desert for a party where I found I actually had no problem talking to people I didn't know, and I demolished them at Star Wars trivia. I was chubby and had always thought that I wouldn't be pretty enough in LA, but I got dates off the street and got an invite to an industry party that I wasn't able to go to. I began to notice when one friend became jealous of me and started trying to sabotage me and my self-esteem, and I learned how not to stand for it anymore.
And then because I ran out of money, my mom had to fly out and come get me to move me home. But I saved. I lived at home and worked, and put that money towards moving me back to California at some random point. I was more open now, too. I began speaking out when things bothered me, and when my friends went back to not appreciating me, I ditched them for ones that did, until they came back to me. If I hadn't fit in before, I really didn't fit in now.
So in August of 2003, I picked up and moved back. I lived with some guy from Roommates.com in Redondo Beach, though that friendship fell apart pretty quickly. I worked for a temp agency that put me to work at UCLA, where I found one of my favorite jobs ever working for the maintenance department of off campus student housing, where our office moved around from a frat house to the converted first floor of an apartment building. I wrote a book at a Coffee Bean on my lunch. I knew someone who knew I wanted to act, so she arranged for me to be a production assistant on a low-budget movie that she was working on, and I realized that I didn't want to act, I wanted to run the show. I worked seventeen hour days for three weeks for a grand total of $200 and it was some of the most fun I've ever had in my life. It ended with me having to drive Peter Weller home at the end of the shoot. I talked about cell phone service with Robocop. That led to other jobs, including one that let me into Universal Studios for free and had me running around the park in order to find a specific flavor of Gatorade for Brendan Fraser. My friend Karyn, whose friends I'd ruined at trivia years earlier, worked on Sunset so when I was working up at UCLA we'd meet at the Virgin Records on Sunset and have coffee and talk about writing until traffic died down.
After a year with a roommate who turned out to be kind of a misogynist, I moved to Long Beach, and that's where I really hit my stride. Roommates came and went, but Rebecca and Jasmine were the best. And, I got my place by the beach. It was a 20-minute walk down Anaheim to the actual beach, which became a thing I did especially when I was upset, and I had a lot going on then. I had a favorite coffee shop called Portofino, I was friends with people at the Ralph's, I went full-on nerd around Rebecca and then when she was out of town, Jasmine and I lived like frat boys who partied too much. I was in LA when marriage equality became a thing, and witnessed the anger that happened when Prop 8 yanked it away, and got to celebrate with friends again when it was given back. People would come to visit me and I'd struggle to figure out what to do, because I was so used to being there now that it was hard to come up with stuff. I found out that I was pretty much a natural when it came to earthquakes, and where natives would freak out I'd be totally fine, and I developed a new appreciation for rain because we didn't get a ton of it, and when we did the streets would flood because the city planners hadn't understood things like drainage. I was mostly friends with my roommates' friends, and I'd follow them to parties or clubs, not because I was a follower but because that's where the cool stuff was.
When I moved to Downey, Rebecca and Jasmine were long gone, one having moved to Texas and another in with her boyfriend, though we're all still friends. Downey I was never that impressed with, to be honest. I was really poor at the time and it was close to work, and I got a discount through there and they weren't going to run my credit. But I met a couple of my best friends there, and started going out more. I became a regular at the Largo in LA, seeing the Thrilling Adventure Hour every month and Eddie Izzard every time he was in town. He used the Largo as his way to run through new material, so in three shows over about a year I saw his latest show from its very earliest incarnation into something that was polished and real. He even did fifteen minutes at the end of one show in Spanish, and I stayed because I was wondering if I'd learned enough Spanish by osmosis to understand it. (No.) And maybe I became a little more aware of my looks, but I don't know that that's a bad thing. Instead of making me self-conscious, it made me aware of how to pull myself together, to dress myself and actually make my eyebrows look like they belonged on a human face. People expected a certain thing of me in LA, and it meant that I take care of myself now, and I consider that a plus. Sure, it's kind of shallow and you're going to have to hear about the new religion trend or how someone you know knows someone famous or what's new in yoga, but for a place that can be so focused on looks it's also really damn inclusive.
And when I decided I had to move back to Chicago, even for a while, I started my bucket list and discovered so much more to California than I realized was there. I took several road trips, and went to Catalina, and visited a Frank Lloyd Wright house, and did all these things that apparently caught everyone's attention on Facebook. If I'd actually made myself do these things the whole time, I might not have left. I didn't feel like I was having enough experiences, and that I'd grown stagnant, and in leaving I realized I just hadn't been trying hard enough.
I'm actually pretty happy in Chicago. Things have changed since 2003, which helps a ton. If someone's an idiot, I can call them out on it and they'll probably realize that yeah, what they said was probably assy. I go out a lot and see a lot more of the country than I did before, and I get to be around while my friends' kids grow up, and I'm around family, and it's all pretty great. But I really wish I could just move everyone I care about to LA. I miss the weather and the people. I miss getting dragged to K-Town and getting amazing pastries from some bakery where I'm not sure what I'm eating because no one spoke English. I miss vegan restaurants and food trucks. I miss seeing amazing sunsets that I should be Instagramming along with every other person in LA, dammit. I even miss getting to parties and spending a lot of my conversations talking about how I got there and what the parking is like. There is this feeling to LA, this energy, that I can't recreate here. I really just belong there.
I only have four days, and most of my agenda is seeing people. But there are places I need to revisit, and I'm working on finding time to go back to Long Beach and get a Thai iced tea at Portofino, and maybe trying to head up to Echo Lake Park and The Last Bookstore because I didn't get to them before. While looking for things to do with some friends for a day on this trip I discovered all this other stuff I still want to do.
Next time, LA. I'll be coming back for you.
I'd been to California before. I don't even know how it happened, but I got it into my head as a kid that I wanted to be famous and live in a house by the beach. You want a lot of things for yourself as a kid, but this stuck. And when I graduated from high school, three months later I was on a plane to LA.
It didn't go well that time. I was living with an online friend who couldn't decide if she wanted me as a roommate or not, her live-in boyfriend harassed me, I didn't know that having a car was imperative there, and so I was never able to find a job because I was limited to basically the mall because it was in walking distance. I lost a lot of weight because I was too poor for food. But I loved it. I'd walk to the store and talk to people on the way. Once I was walking late at night, and there was a group of four black girls across the street who spotted me and called, "Are you alone? No, no, no. We'll protect you," and crossed the street to walk me home. I never felt unsafe in my neighborhood in Culver City, but it was one of the nicest things people have done for me. I had a couple friends, who unfortunately lived in Orange County and so one of them would pick me up and drive me to the other friend's house like they were sharing custody of me. Sometimes I'd have to go to work with Steph because she couldn't drop me off, which was fine by me because I got to go to Disneyland for free then, where I mostly people-watched. We'd hang out on Hollywood Boulevard and pick up things meant for tourists that meant that I could be an extra in a movie, or run around on Aliso Beach too late and night and lose our shoes. Once we drove to the desert for a party where I found I actually had no problem talking to people I didn't know, and I demolished them at Star Wars trivia. I was chubby and had always thought that I wouldn't be pretty enough in LA, but I got dates off the street and got an invite to an industry party that I wasn't able to go to. I began to notice when one friend became jealous of me and started trying to sabotage me and my self-esteem, and I learned how not to stand for it anymore.
And then because I ran out of money, my mom had to fly out and come get me to move me home. But I saved. I lived at home and worked, and put that money towards moving me back to California at some random point. I was more open now, too. I began speaking out when things bothered me, and when my friends went back to not appreciating me, I ditched them for ones that did, until they came back to me. If I hadn't fit in before, I really didn't fit in now.
So in August of 2003, I picked up and moved back. I lived with some guy from Roommates.com in Redondo Beach, though that friendship fell apart pretty quickly. I worked for a temp agency that put me to work at UCLA, where I found one of my favorite jobs ever working for the maintenance department of off campus student housing, where our office moved around from a frat house to the converted first floor of an apartment building. I wrote a book at a Coffee Bean on my lunch. I knew someone who knew I wanted to act, so she arranged for me to be a production assistant on a low-budget movie that she was working on, and I realized that I didn't want to act, I wanted to run the show. I worked seventeen hour days for three weeks for a grand total of $200 and it was some of the most fun I've ever had in my life. It ended with me having to drive Peter Weller home at the end of the shoot. I talked about cell phone service with Robocop. That led to other jobs, including one that let me into Universal Studios for free and had me running around the park in order to find a specific flavor of Gatorade for Brendan Fraser. My friend Karyn, whose friends I'd ruined at trivia years earlier, worked on Sunset so when I was working up at UCLA we'd meet at the Virgin Records on Sunset and have coffee and talk about writing until traffic died down.
After a year with a roommate who turned out to be kind of a misogynist, I moved to Long Beach, and that's where I really hit my stride. Roommates came and went, but Rebecca and Jasmine were the best. And, I got my place by the beach. It was a 20-minute walk down Anaheim to the actual beach, which became a thing I did especially when I was upset, and I had a lot going on then. I had a favorite coffee shop called Portofino, I was friends with people at the Ralph's, I went full-on nerd around Rebecca and then when she was out of town, Jasmine and I lived like frat boys who partied too much. I was in LA when marriage equality became a thing, and witnessed the anger that happened when Prop 8 yanked it away, and got to celebrate with friends again when it was given back. People would come to visit me and I'd struggle to figure out what to do, because I was so used to being there now that it was hard to come up with stuff. I found out that I was pretty much a natural when it came to earthquakes, and where natives would freak out I'd be totally fine, and I developed a new appreciation for rain because we didn't get a ton of it, and when we did the streets would flood because the city planners hadn't understood things like drainage. I was mostly friends with my roommates' friends, and I'd follow them to parties or clubs, not because I was a follower but because that's where the cool stuff was.
When I moved to Downey, Rebecca and Jasmine were long gone, one having moved to Texas and another in with her boyfriend, though we're all still friends. Downey I was never that impressed with, to be honest. I was really poor at the time and it was close to work, and I got a discount through there and they weren't going to run my credit. But I met a couple of my best friends there, and started going out more. I became a regular at the Largo in LA, seeing the Thrilling Adventure Hour every month and Eddie Izzard every time he was in town. He used the Largo as his way to run through new material, so in three shows over about a year I saw his latest show from its very earliest incarnation into something that was polished and real. He even did fifteen minutes at the end of one show in Spanish, and I stayed because I was wondering if I'd learned enough Spanish by osmosis to understand it. (No.) And maybe I became a little more aware of my looks, but I don't know that that's a bad thing. Instead of making me self-conscious, it made me aware of how to pull myself together, to dress myself and actually make my eyebrows look like they belonged on a human face. People expected a certain thing of me in LA, and it meant that I take care of myself now, and I consider that a plus. Sure, it's kind of shallow and you're going to have to hear about the new religion trend or how someone you know knows someone famous or what's new in yoga, but for a place that can be so focused on looks it's also really damn inclusive.
And when I decided I had to move back to Chicago, even for a while, I started my bucket list and discovered so much more to California than I realized was there. I took several road trips, and went to Catalina, and visited a Frank Lloyd Wright house, and did all these things that apparently caught everyone's attention on Facebook. If I'd actually made myself do these things the whole time, I might not have left. I didn't feel like I was having enough experiences, and that I'd grown stagnant, and in leaving I realized I just hadn't been trying hard enough.
I'm actually pretty happy in Chicago. Things have changed since 2003, which helps a ton. If someone's an idiot, I can call them out on it and they'll probably realize that yeah, what they said was probably assy. I go out a lot and see a lot more of the country than I did before, and I get to be around while my friends' kids grow up, and I'm around family, and it's all pretty great. But I really wish I could just move everyone I care about to LA. I miss the weather and the people. I miss getting dragged to K-Town and getting amazing pastries from some bakery where I'm not sure what I'm eating because no one spoke English. I miss vegan restaurants and food trucks. I miss seeing amazing sunsets that I should be Instagramming along with every other person in LA, dammit. I even miss getting to parties and spending a lot of my conversations talking about how I got there and what the parking is like. There is this feeling to LA, this energy, that I can't recreate here. I really just belong there.
I only have four days, and most of my agenda is seeing people. But there are places I need to revisit, and I'm working on finding time to go back to Long Beach and get a Thai iced tea at Portofino, and maybe trying to head up to Echo Lake Park and The Last Bookstore because I didn't get to them before. While looking for things to do with some friends for a day on this trip I discovered all this other stuff I still want to do.
Next time, LA. I'll be coming back for you.
9.7.16
One week.
I kind of want kudos for being as productive as I am with a sinus headache this bad. I'll wait for your applause.
*waits*
Okay good.
I had plans today. It's my only day to do everything before a busy workweek and I leave on Saturday. Then I woke up and my head was pounding, and it hasn't really gone away, so my plans for the gym evaporated. I've said before that I train for SDCC, and I really do. It's a lot of time on your feet, sometimes in very real heat, sometimes up hills, when you're tired and carrying a lot of stuff, so I do see how long I can do on the treadmill and won't get tired. Also, I'm going back to LA and there is a pressure to look better than I feel like I do, but. I work out to feel confident enough to go toe to toe with a hot chick, you know?
But I did laundry. I went through everything I have left in my overnight bag that tends not to get emptied all the way after trips and checked how I'm doing on travel sizes and toiletries, so I made a list of what I needed and made a trip to Target. I'm sure there'll be another one on Thursday as I freak out at forgetting something, but I'm prepared as of now. I have a final checklist of all the things I have to make sure to have.
And then there's packing.
Here's how I do things: I make a list of what I want to wear on each day, because I'm That Person. I roll fold everything for space. I have things laid out by day just so I can make sure I have it all, and I try to keep things in some kind of order because I've found that it's a lot easier for me that way. When I have to get up at 4 am to go somewhere and haven't had coffee, I'm not smart enough to be able to pick out an outfit. In fact, I swear to god, I will roll a pair of underwear up in the shirt because there have been many, many instances of me forgetting that and I have learned. Then in the morning I can just grab and go and get ready.
I've got two pairs of jeans, including the pair I'll wear to the airport, because a good part of my trip will probably involve sitting on the ground a lot and things can get dirty fast. (Packing tip: put jeans and heavy things at the actual bottom of the suitcase, next to the wheels, because it won't tip over that way.) There's a sweatshirt for cold nights in line (anyone who says it doesn't get cold in California lies), and a bathing suit because my hotel has a pool. I constantly lose socks so I just straight up bought an extra 6-pack to throw in there. (I like the colored ones because it's easier to pair them up and easier to tell what's dirty and what's not on day nine of a ten-day trip.) I bring extra black and white tank tops, usually for the "oops this shirt is more sheer than I thought" issues because a lot of companies confuse "burnout tank" with "making you pay $12 for something that makes you accidentally flash your boobs." Besides, things get dirty or the weather's not what you think and it pays to bring something extra.
There'll be more to go in there. I'll need a couple different pairs of shoes, more socks, sunscreen, a hat, hair stuff, things like that. My backpack is going to have all the important stuff. And the thing is, I'll have everything in my suitcase tonight and then on Friday before I go I'll end up repacking everything because I always do. I am nothing if not thorough.
Also I need to keep a little bit of space for any swag I bring back. Never forget the swag.
*waits*
Okay good.
I had plans today. It's my only day to do everything before a busy workweek and I leave on Saturday. Then I woke up and my head was pounding, and it hasn't really gone away, so my plans for the gym evaporated. I've said before that I train for SDCC, and I really do. It's a lot of time on your feet, sometimes in very real heat, sometimes up hills, when you're tired and carrying a lot of stuff, so I do see how long I can do on the treadmill and won't get tired. Also, I'm going back to LA and there is a pressure to look better than I feel like I do, but. I work out to feel confident enough to go toe to toe with a hot chick, you know?
But I did laundry. I went through everything I have left in my overnight bag that tends not to get emptied all the way after trips and checked how I'm doing on travel sizes and toiletries, so I made a list of what I needed and made a trip to Target. I'm sure there'll be another one on Thursday as I freak out at forgetting something, but I'm prepared as of now. I have a final checklist of all the things I have to make sure to have.
And then there's packing.
Here's how I do things: I make a list of what I want to wear on each day, because I'm That Person. I roll fold everything for space. I have things laid out by day just so I can make sure I have it all, and I try to keep things in some kind of order because I've found that it's a lot easier for me that way. When I have to get up at 4 am to go somewhere and haven't had coffee, I'm not smart enough to be able to pick out an outfit. In fact, I swear to god, I will roll a pair of underwear up in the shirt because there have been many, many instances of me forgetting that and I have learned. Then in the morning I can just grab and go and get ready.
I've got two pairs of jeans, including the pair I'll wear to the airport, because a good part of my trip will probably involve sitting on the ground a lot and things can get dirty fast. (Packing tip: put jeans and heavy things at the actual bottom of the suitcase, next to the wheels, because it won't tip over that way.) There's a sweatshirt for cold nights in line (anyone who says it doesn't get cold in California lies), and a bathing suit because my hotel has a pool. I constantly lose socks so I just straight up bought an extra 6-pack to throw in there. (I like the colored ones because it's easier to pair them up and easier to tell what's dirty and what's not on day nine of a ten-day trip.) I bring extra black and white tank tops, usually for the "oops this shirt is more sheer than I thought" issues because a lot of companies confuse "burnout tank" with "making you pay $12 for something that makes you accidentally flash your boobs." Besides, things get dirty or the weather's not what you think and it pays to bring something extra.
There'll be more to go in there. I'll need a couple different pairs of shoes, more socks, sunscreen, a hat, hair stuff, things like that. My backpack is going to have all the important stuff. And the thing is, I'll have everything in my suitcase tonight and then on Friday before I go I'll end up repacking everything because I always do. I am nothing if not thorough.
Also I need to keep a little bit of space for any swag I bring back. Never forget the swag.
7.7.16
Get It Done Day
I'm nine days out from going to California. Yay! Of course, this has also been a little nervewracking, for reasons.
Long story short, I was going to stay with a friend but that fell through, which kind of left me scrambling to find somewhere else. Well, I found a decently-priced, well-rated hotel in Bell where the staff responds to all the reviews so you know they're paying attention, and I got it through Booking.com, which means I get free cancellations/changes until the day before I get there. So in the off chance that I find somewhere else cheaper (or free) I'm not obligated to stick with it. But to be honest, I do like the freedom it affords me, especially since I know I'm going to be all over the place seeing people and trying to fit in everything possible that I can in four days. (How much In N Out is too much In N Out?)
And today's what I'm calling Get It Done Day. Sunday is my only full free day to do laundry and run errands and do things before a 10-day trip, so I sat down this morning and made myself a list of all the things I need to do, and I'm doing what I can. Mostly the logistical stuff.
I got my car rented. This was a Process because I was doing price comparisons anytime I got free time today, and while the cheapest was Fox Rent-A-Car out of LAX, the reviews were pretty scary and talked about long wait times, and especially when I have to leave LA at a certain time after dropping off the car, I'd rather spend a little extra if it means I'm not wasting time and risking it costing more if I have to get a new car or I miss out on my train. I found that booking a car with Avis through Priceline Mobile was the most cost effective way to go, and turned out not to be that much more expensive than what I would have paid with Fox.
After dropping off my car I'll catch a cab or Uber (I'm not sure how the LAX area does this now, so that's a thing to research) to Union Station to catch a train to San Diego. I know from experience that the station there is in walking distance to the hotels, because I've taken the train down quite a few times and been part of a large group of people wheeling their luggage to the downtown hotels. Unfortunately it means I'm getting in too late to bug certain San Diego friends, but the great thing about how I do SDCC is that I find ways to bug my friends anyway.
I'm packing, I've gone through and figured out what travel sizes I need, I'm prepared on things like backpacks and water bottles and camera batteries... So I'm getting there. It's going to cost a lot more than I wanted it to, but I can manage it, and it's a good thing my job requires overtime.
Long story short, I was going to stay with a friend but that fell through, which kind of left me scrambling to find somewhere else. Well, I found a decently-priced, well-rated hotel in Bell where the staff responds to all the reviews so you know they're paying attention, and I got it through Booking.com, which means I get free cancellations/changes until the day before I get there. So in the off chance that I find somewhere else cheaper (or free) I'm not obligated to stick with it. But to be honest, I do like the freedom it affords me, especially since I know I'm going to be all over the place seeing people and trying to fit in everything possible that I can in four days. (How much In N Out is too much In N Out?)
And today's what I'm calling Get It Done Day. Sunday is my only full free day to do laundry and run errands and do things before a 10-day trip, so I sat down this morning and made myself a list of all the things I need to do, and I'm doing what I can. Mostly the logistical stuff.
I got my car rented. This was a Process because I was doing price comparisons anytime I got free time today, and while the cheapest was Fox Rent-A-Car out of LAX, the reviews were pretty scary and talked about long wait times, and especially when I have to leave LA at a certain time after dropping off the car, I'd rather spend a little extra if it means I'm not wasting time and risking it costing more if I have to get a new car or I miss out on my train. I found that booking a car with Avis through Priceline Mobile was the most cost effective way to go, and turned out not to be that much more expensive than what I would have paid with Fox.
After dropping off my car I'll catch a cab or Uber (I'm not sure how the LAX area does this now, so that's a thing to research) to Union Station to catch a train to San Diego. I know from experience that the station there is in walking distance to the hotels, because I've taken the train down quite a few times and been part of a large group of people wheeling their luggage to the downtown hotels. Unfortunately it means I'm getting in too late to bug certain San Diego friends, but the great thing about how I do SDCC is that I find ways to bug my friends anyway.
I'm packing, I've gone through and figured out what travel sizes I need, I'm prepared on things like backpacks and water bottles and camera batteries... So I'm getting there. It's going to cost a lot more than I wanted it to, but I can manage it, and it's a good thing my job requires overtime.
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