The Lost Weekend

Here begins the travel journal of Omouse.

I fell asleep Friday night before I could see the end of The Last Starfighter. When I was a kid, that was one of the ultimate movies. Now the special effects look like a cheap computer game. I felt a little guilty after leaving Liz leaning over the toilet after some bad seafood, but it was 11pm and I still hadn't finished packing.

We left at 6:00am on the dot and it wasn't until after we were on the road that I learned I'd been hijacked to Turlock. Where is Turlock you ask? Well, it's between Modesto and Merced on the 99. If you still don't have a clue, imagine the middle of California in the middle of nowhere... and that's Turlock. Apparently it's the home of the quilting place that Mom sends her quilts to in order to be quilted. She was picking one up and dropping one off.

On the way to Turlock we got lost in Bakersfield looking for breakfast. Now it wasn't exactly Dad's fault. The fog was so thick that we couldn't see the Rite Aid on the left side of the street until we'd turned around and gone the other way. We finally settled on the donut shop in plain sight on the corner. Finding the freeway was another adventure, but soon we were heading northbound first.

Once in Turlock, we dropped by the quilt shop and then headed to lunch at The Red Steer. Yeah. Buffet style French Dip and BBQ sandwiches. The guy behind the counter was loud brash and very male in a very efficient manner. The decore was early 80's and the food was okay, but bland. I'd had better sandwiches. Dad said the potato salad tasted like plain potatoes. He was almost tempted not to eat it... almost.

I called Liz on my cell as we got in the car and was laughing so hard that I could hardly talk to her. We managed to get lost on the way to the freeway. The title is beginning to make sense... huh?

We finally got to Grandma's at about 3:30 and Stacy and Karen came to visit. We had enchilada cassarole for dinner and then I went to bed a bit early. Riding around in a car all day is rather tiring work.

I did manage to get the rents to listen to my cd's all the way. I didn't have to listen to any talk radio, and totally got to hear some country cd's that I'd forgotten I'd had. I tried to talk Dad into some Scarlet Pimpernel or Chicago... but he wouldn't go for it.