Recently I had the opportunity to meet up with Daniel as he took a rare trip to California for work. Though he's usually home by Friday night, this trip would extend through Saturday, making it basically free for me to tag along. His mother was happy to come up for a visit that included staying a few days with the girls, so despite my hesitance to leave them, we decided to go. The only other time I've been to California, also related to a work trip of Daniel's, it was with both children in tow. I'd rather not repeat that one yet.
Daniel's itinerary was filled with "mights" that led to arguments and troublesome packing. I might be invited to a black tie optional gala while there, and I had nothing to wear. "Don't buy anything," Daniel said, "Just bring something you have." The problem: I don't have anything appropriate. Many phone calls, emails, and facebook posts later, I looked at 10 dresses from generous friends, none of which really fit and ended up packing something inappropriate that I already had. I worked into the wee hours Thursday night trying to pack for every occasion I might encounter while keeping my roomy suitcase under 50 pounds. At 11:30 I received a call from Daniel (already on California time) that I might need an additional cocktail dress. I had to restrategize to stay under my weight limit (and restrain myself).
Daniel's itinerary was filled with "mights" that led to arguments and troublesome packing. I might be invited to a black tie optional gala while there, and I had nothing to wear. "Don't buy anything," Daniel said, "Just bring something you have." The problem: I don't have anything appropriate. Many phone calls, emails, and facebook posts later, I looked at 10 dresses from generous friends, none of which really fit and ended up packing something inappropriate that I already had. I worked into the wee hours Thursday night trying to pack for every occasion I might encounter while keeping my roomy suitcase under 50 pounds. At 11:30 I received a call from Daniel (already on California time) that I might need an additional cocktail dress. I had to restrategize to stay under my weight limit (and restrain myself).
Finally, the next morning, after my suitcase was not even weighed, I made it to my gate only to find out the plane was oversold and they needed volunteers to make "alternate travel arrangements" in exchange for a $400 travel voucher. I happily volunteered. We are able to get free hotel stays pretty easily, but flights have been harder to come by. I got rerouted through Houston and made it to San Francisco two hours later than my bag. After meeting up briefly with Daniel, I retreated to our room to try to catch up-- I had only slept 4 hours the previous two nights-- before our night of cocktails and schmoozing. I couldn't sleep and soon found myself sitting at a corner booth surrounded by Daniel's team. A hefty bar tab and several hangers on later, we went to a "mixer" at a local club, greeted on the way by two beautiful, airbrushed looking creatures in towering platform heels. I shrunk in my fake red patent leather 9Wests and seven-year-old dress. Daniel never left me, but I felt small. I saw the way they looked at him. And he was perfectly fine, but I started to think maybe these trips are exactly as I have always feared.
At the mixer, dance music blared while real estate professionals danced unprofessionally. It was not even possible to mix at this event; it was too loud. We encountered the same girls from before, one of whom grabbed Daniel's arm and talked in his ear. Not for nothing, but I am not a jealous girl. Still, I was out of place. I couldn't help imagining that this is always what it's like when he's on the road, when I'm not there. A drunk realtor from LA talked to me for a while and told me I looked "elegant." In this crowd, at this venue, I wasn't sure it was a compliment. After 10PM California time, we waited outside for a chauffeured black SUV. One of our companions, a beautiful and hilarious Persian woman who ended up buying the group dinner said, "Driver, what is your name, honey bunny? Where are you from?" Gus from Jordan responded, to which she replied, "Are you Muslim?" He said that he was. "I don't believe you," she shot back, so he started blaring Arab music. We shot through the streets of San Francisco like this until we arrived at a Korean barbecue where we ate until almost 1 AM (my body, still on East Coast time, felt like it was 4:00). On the way out, Daniel's coworker assured me, "Most trips are NOT like this," and I know they are not. But it was daunting to feel so ordinary. It's hard to compete with fake. Daniel assured me I don't have to.
At the mixer, dance music blared while real estate professionals danced unprofessionally. It was not even possible to mix at this event; it was too loud. We encountered the same girls from before, one of whom grabbed Daniel's arm and talked in his ear. Not for nothing, but I am not a jealous girl. Still, I was out of place. I couldn't help imagining that this is always what it's like when he's on the road, when I'm not there. A drunk realtor from LA talked to me for a while and told me I looked "elegant." In this crowd, at this venue, I wasn't sure it was a compliment. After 10PM California time, we waited outside for a chauffeured black SUV. One of our companions, a beautiful and hilarious Persian woman who ended up buying the group dinner said, "Driver, what is your name, honey bunny? Where are you from?" Gus from Jordan responded, to which she replied, "Are you Muslim?" He said that he was. "I don't believe you," she shot back, so he started blaring Arab music. We shot through the streets of San Francisco like this until we arrived at a Korean barbecue where we ate until almost 1 AM (my body, still on East Coast time, felt like it was 4:00). On the way out, Daniel's coworker assured me, "Most trips are NOT like this," and I know they are not. But it was daunting to feel so ordinary. It's hard to compete with fake. Daniel assured me I don't have to.
The next day, after sleeping later than I can remember in recent history, I hit the streets alone. I was actually nervous-- it's been a long time since I've ventured anywhere but Trader Joe's alone, and typically not even there. Armed with a map I explored the enormous farmer's markets, walked along the water snapping photos and eventually made my way to Fisherman's Wharf. It was fantastic to be by myself and to remember that I am capable of playing the part of a competent, put together individual, apart from my job or husband or kids or house. The day was a gift.
Daniel met me later and we hiked up the famous hills a bit longer before going to the gala for which I was probably under dressed but it didn't matter. I met his bosses and after that we were free to be together. One of his bosses, a regal looking woman three tiers above him, shook my hand and said, "I want to tell you your boy is the real deal. He is working hard to make you happy and he's always talking about you and your little girls. In my experience, that's rare." And I was proud.
We spent the next day at Alcatraz and tooling around the city in our Mustang convertible before heading to Sausalito, then Napa for a rainy day. We lingered over homemade pasta that night and graham cracker crusted french toast the next morning.
Given Daniel's aggressive travel schedule lately, and our full schedule of company at home, it was nice to have the face time and to hold hands on the street. The trip back was eventful, as we learned you can't just pack bottles of wine in the little carrier they give out at the wineries; you have to have it packed by the travel agency in the airport for $28. What a racket! And my carefully packed bag from before? It may have been much more efficiently packed (by Daniel) on the way home, but that also put it 8 pounds over. He was able to cause some kind of scene so that we avoided paying for it. He looked longingly at the "Elite Plus" or whatever the line of white guys with carry-ons and rumpled suits is called, since he couldn't board with them and with me. He would have another chance about 12 hours after we landed.
The last year has been difficult, a constant state of adjustment. It makes me worry about and consider things I'd rather not. It makes us bicker about issues we'd rather not. It makes it nearly impossible to talk. In the last month, there have been two occasions for Daniel to be home 12 hours or less, before catching another flight. It's better than not coming home at all, I think, but it is hard to get used to. So we have a complicated relationship, the travel and I. Without it, we would never take these kind of trips. But without it, maybe we wouldn't need to.
The last year has been difficult, a constant state of adjustment. It makes me worry about and consider things I'd rather not. It makes us bicker about issues we'd rather not. It makes it nearly impossible to talk. In the last month, there have been two occasions for Daniel to be home 12 hours or less, before catching another flight. It's better than not coming home at all, I think, but it is hard to get used to. So we have a complicated relationship, the travel and I. Without it, we would never take these kind of trips. But without it, maybe we wouldn't need to.
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