Holy shit, San Francisco is far away...

I feel like a pioneer striking out westward to seek my fortune. It was a multi-legged trip with varying degrees of maudlin and annoying.

The trip to Buffalo with the ex-boyfriend and friend went well. We had an uneventful and hilarious drive, culminating in my arrival at a shifty Ramada Inn, famously adjecent to the Cracker Barrel (cue heavenly lights and angelic tones).

Surprisingly, the room was a "business class" room. That meant it contained a wingback chair, fridge and coffee maker, hunting prints and stuffed deer heads. Only part of that is true. But it did hold a king sized bed, which frankly, was overkill. I spent half the night waking up to sleep in shifts in different areas of the bed. If I'm paying for it, I'm using the whole damn thing.

We crossed the parking lot to the Cracker Barrel with breathless anticipation. We arrived half an hour before closing, and just after a bus of, apparently, very hungry tourists. Our excitement about eating our favourite dishes quickly dissolved into peals of laughter as virtually every item we named was met with "we're out of that, sorry". Serves us right for arriving so late. Another waitress joked about us just getting bread and water. Our waitress was relieved that we had such great senses of humour about the whole thing, and we were the recipients of free desserts. Of course, we could barely touch them, we were so stuffed with biscuits and whatever else was available.

The boys left me to my gigantic bed, and I dutifully tried to use all of it.

I will post more about my travel from Buffalo to San Fran, tomorrow. Suffice to say, it was adventurous.

Tonight was our first show. More on that later, as well. Very tired now. I'm such a pussy, but Shaun just made us stir fry, and we're about to watch a fight.

On TV.

No actual drama, yet.

Give it time.