Christmas Eve in California

Rob and I are in California for the holiday, the idea being that we will research potential wedding sites and choose a location to get married next year. So far, we have used our time very effectively—last night we went out to a bar and concentrated on writing our names on a napkin. I’m trying to decide whether to take Rob’s name or keep my own and this exercise was a good one because after it was over, Rob informed me that I was no longer invited to take his name, as I clearly didn’t want it enough.

“If we have kids,” he said, “I’m going to tell them that all of us, except you, are in a club. I’ll just explain to them that you are different and weird.”

Outraged that Rob and our imaginary children would be starting an exclusive club, I began backpedaling. “Well, I’m not sure. If the rest of you are all going to have the same name, I might want it, too.”

“It’s too late,” he said.

So, as you can see, real progress is being made here on our trip.

We stayed at a hotel right across from the Ferry Building for two nights in San Francisco and walked over to Peet’s Coffee each morning for breakfast. Oh, how I love Peet’s Coffee. It was especially good this morning when my brain and body were struggling to combat the increasingly severe symptoms of a hangover brought on by the previous night’s main activity.

Anyone lucky enough to be sitting within earshot of the following enlightening conversation would know what I mean.

Rob [muttering under his breath]: “Sabotage.”

Me: “Did you just say ‘Sabotage’?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I spilled coffee on my shirt.”

Things have remained at this level intellectually for most of the day. We left the city and I proceeded to get us lost in Mill Valley on our way to a meeting with the events coordinator at Mountain Home Inn, a quaint place that sounds more like an elderly care facility than a wedding location. After we left, I got us lost on the way to Healdsburg, where we are staying for the next four nights. But now we are here and the plan—since we have finally arrived in wine country—is to try not to drink so much.