So, the camping trip I went on this weekend went well. I managed to get there with all my camping crap on a wheelie cart without incident, so huzzah. Did some wine tasting (happily, none of it was bad and made me make the nasty face), went on a long hike, drank margaritas and kahlua chocolate latte drink. It was cold, but not quite as nasty windy as Friday had been, and my sleeping bag worked for that. So, yay. I can't say I was massively impressed by the park (Sugarloaf- it's very very brown and not all that pretty, but that's what all of NorCal looks like, so...), but the campsite setup was nice. Yay for toilets and fire pits and space.

What was funny, however, was trying to get back home. I had a meeting at 7:30 that night. You'd think if we have to be out of the camping site by noon, I could manage to get home early, right?

* Leave campsite in Sonoma at 11:15. Decide to follow someone else's car.
* 11:45 and we have gone in a circle and are back where we started. Following someone else's car is scrapped.
* 12:50-ish, and we're stuck in traffic. Apparently it's Fleet Week or something and even though we are not in SF, traffic is befucked.
* 1:10: Get back to Anna's house, where we have to wait for car #3 to show up with everyone's goods. I look at the train schedule and realize the next one leaves at 2:05 and think, "I'm not making that, am I?" I mention this to Anna (who's giving me a ride to the station) and she's all, "We can make that." She lives about 10 minutes from the place.
* 1:30: the other car shows up.
* 1:40: we leave for the train station.

And thus, EVERY SINGLE POSSIBLE TRAFFIC THING THAT COULD HAPPEN TO STOP/SLOW US DOWN HAPPENED. I'm not just talking "hit every red light" stuff. I'm talking green lights where nobody would go, people. I'm talking green lights where the light went back to full-on red and nobody moved in all that time. Anna tried taking a short cut because the main drags and highway were full, and everyone drove at 5 miles an hour. At about 1:53 I was all, "You know what? We're not making it." Anna was practically growling and was all, "It is a three mile drive. We have one mile left to go. MOVE, PEOPLE." It just got to be a bad comedy after awhile.

I called it: we got there three minutes after the train left. (Though I guess that's better than getting there JUST as the train is pulling away.) Of course THEN it left on time. So the next train was over an hour and a half later...and late, of course. But still, I'm likely to get in around 5 p.m. At this point I start thinking, "Okay, SOMETHING ELSE HAS TO GO WRONG to make SURE I get no time to myself at home."

So naturally I get a phone call saying "oh, the meeting's at 6 now..."

Well, in the end I at least got home in time to get a shower and get my shit together before I left for the night. And dinner was excellent at the meeting.

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