Days O & 1

Day 0

I love the term Day 0.  I realize that it is referring to the neutral day before your real vacation begins, but 0 is still a non-entity.  It makes me feel like we are saying that day didn't exist.  Maybe it didn't.  Regardless, here is my experience of Day 0:

Queen of the World!

It's my last day at work.  I head out at a bit before 5pm--probably not the best idea since my plane takes off at 6:40pm.  But I left, carting my carry-on suitcase behind me, and I felt thrilled.  I was thrilled to get on the dirty E train, thrilled the whole 40 minute ride, thrilled to get off and wait for the elevator to take me to the JFK Airtran, and thrilled during that 30-minute ride, getting in the front and standing at the front window, which was so wide that I felt like I was Queen of the World as it rode the track.  I was thrilled to hand my boarding pass and ID to security.

I have to say, I was seriously pushing it on time.  I mean, I was still on the AirTran when boarding was supposed to begin.  But once I got in the actual security line, the 2 people in front of me were so fast that I couldn't take off my jacket and shoes, take out my laptop, and deposit everything in bins and on the belt fast enough.  And I was rushing, because at this point my plane was taking off in 20 minutes.  I got through, they didn't search me, my belongings were not questioned--it felt like nothing was going to get in my way.  I put everything back on and packed the computer back into my suitcase, and walked as fast as I could.  Four gates in, I glanced at a monitor and saw that my flight, which was BOARDING before, was now CLOSED.  My heart stopped.  NOOOO!!  Nothing could keep me in NYC this night.

I broke into a run and ran up to the gate, fearing the worst.  Especially since nobody else was there anymore, except the three relaxed employees who were talking and joking.  Without a break in the conversation, one of them took my boarding pass, looked at it, ripped it in half and sent me on my way.  Nothing was going to keep me in NYC this night.

Now, I've never taken JetBlue before.  Let me tell you--I don't know that I'll ever take another airline again.  My god.  When they say business class for everyone, they meant it.  My leather(-ish?) seat was wide and the leg room was incredible.  Add to that the fact that it was NOT a full flight.  The seat next to me was empty and the guy in the aisle seat kept to himself.  And I had my own tv.  With satellite people.  Satellite.  I watched Halloween H2O, since it was Halloween.  Everything felt serenipitous.  When the server came by I ordered a glass of wine and settled in to Jamie Lee Curtis and scary moments.  What it Halloween without Michael Myers??  It isn't.  I just isn't.

The plane landed an hour early.  Truly, I felt like the whole night was mine.  All for me.  I got off and stepped out of the airport.  The air was thick with the smell of ocean.  I could feel my eyes tearing up.  Here was air I'd missed sorely.  My jacket was useless, and I'd put my scarf and gloves in the suitcase long ago.  I got on the shuttle for my car rental, and couldn't believe that my $16/day rental was a Jeep!  Queen of the World!!

I got a bit lost to Christi's place and loved every minute of it.  Palm trees everywhere.  I got to Christi's neighborhood.  It is very much like Santa Cruz, with 20-somethings milling about everywhere.  Tonight everyone was dressed in Halloween costumes, and since it was a beach town, they were all skimpy and revealing.  After all, the temperature allowed it.

Of course, for me it was 1:30am EDT, so I was sleepy.  I got to Christi's place, said hello to her cat, looked around a bit and then went to bed.

DAY 1

My alarm went off at 7am PDT, but I was awake before that, since I was jet-lagged.  I got up and went for a glorious run on the beach.  I broke into spontaneous laughter a few times.  I mean, I was wearing shorts and a tank, with my bikin underneath, running on the beach, watching surfers and staring at the Pacific Ocean.  It was pure happiness.  I sat and watched the surfers for a long time, sitting there in a tank top instead of a coat, scarf and gloves.  It was amazing.

After a yogurt & granola breakfast on Christi's little deck, I explored her neighborhood, seeking a grocery store.  I found one.  It had a parking lot and you could fit in the aisles.  It was unlike NYC for sure.  Still early on a Saturday for locals, I wandered the aisles, only seeing three other people the whole time.

After that, I jumped into the Jeep and headed up highway 5 to Carlsbad, CA.  This is 30 minutes north of San Diego.  I stopped counting palm trees after a while--too many to keep track of.

When I drove up to the spa, I was a little disappointed that it was in a plaza.  Ensconced between a hair salon and a nail salon, I reminded myself that the website and services looked fantastic, and that resort-type spas were double the price.

I went inside and it was like a different world.  I sipped tea in the waiting room, and then went in to meet Wendy, who would be doing my 90-minute facial.  This gave me pause.  Ninety minutes on just my face?  I'd never had a facial before and wasn't sure what all it entailed, but I was figuring one-third of that amount of time.

Let me tell you, it was amazing.  I was lying on my back, and for the first 30 minutes of so, she just kept smearing what smelled like perfectly edible products all over my face, neck and shoulders, and then taking it off with hot towels.  It was a combo of scrubs, then creams, back and forth.  The care with which she wiped these things on and off...it was heaven.

At a certain point, she put what could have been cucumbers on my eyelids...I have no clue.  But then a bright light came on, and was trained on my face.  Even through the opaque eye covering I was a little jolted.  At this point, she starts squeezing the hell out of my face in little spots.  It dawns on me that she is squeezing my pores, and I'm like, what the hell.  I realizes she must be wearing microscopic glasses, and the light was bright enough.  She was exploring every little part of my face, finding pores and squeezing them, and then wiping something away, but what??  My imagination is picturing white, or green, or puce gunk coming up--gunk I was not seeing on my face when I looked in the mirror.  I mean, since I have dry skin, and exfoliate and moisturize, I'm just not sure at all what she's finding.  And then I'm thinking, look, you've never had one of these before.  She's probably finding 37 years' worth of pollution in your pores.

She also did a lip treatment, and then there was a point where she spread something thick all over my face, covered it was a hot towel, leaving only my nostrils and lips exposed, and got to work on my arms and hands, massaging, scrubbing, hot stoning, lotioning.  She then used what may have been a paraffin treatment on my hands, encased them in plastic, and then pushed them into stiff hot mitts.

Now, at this point it has easily been 60 minutes.  I have been on my back, unable to move very much.  I've grown a bit impatient in spite of the relaxing environment, aromatic creams, and pampering.  I want OUT.  I want to move.  I've been shifting my legs, tightening my thighs, moving my feet about, for relief.  But then she moved to my legs and feet.  'Oh god no', I thought.  'Please, this is my only escape.'  She gives the same treatment to my legs and feet she did to my arms and hands.  But once they were encased in plastic and the hot mitts, my imagination ran wild.  What if there was a fire?  I mean, you know, I really now understood the fundamental idea behind torture.  I was without use of my eyes, hands, feet.  I felt trapped.  I reminded myself this was supposed to be relaxing, but all I could think was I was actually just atrophying.  Completely.  I strated tensing my abdominal muscles and releasing them to feel movement, and I realized, to allow myself to feel some measure of control.  I didn't appreciate getting the pyschological lesson along with the relaxing treatment.

She came to my face and took off the towel, wiped me down, did the final step of the lip and face treatment.  Finally, face was free!!  Then she freed my hands and feet.  Once it was all done I realized how amazing I felt, of course.  And she was awesome.  But once she left the room, I was tempted to get up and do some jumping jacks before heading to the massage room.

Kerry did my massage, and she was amazing too.  She asked me if there were any trouble spots, and I told her I thought it best that she be forewarned that my shoulder area might cause her to run screaming from the room.  She promised not to hold back.

What was great about Kerry is that she didn't hold back, but she was so skilled that it wasn't torture for me.  She did such an amazing job that while she was massaging my legs I came close to losing consciousness, which I've never done in a massage before.  I've marveled at people who say they fall asleep during a massage.  I just couldn't figure how.  But with Kerry, I could see it.  She was awesome.

When it was done, I got dressed and went to the restroom and was startled by the reflection in the mirror.  I was glowing.  And also, my pores had disappeared.  So I then understood what Wendy had been doing.  My skin looked amazing.  Absolutely amazing.  I felt that I would never need to wear makeup again.  I felt absolutely ravishing without a lick of concealer or anything.  I happily paid, tipped generously, then walked over to the nail salon for a mani-pedi, which I never get anymore.  For the first time in my life, I was absolutely satisfied with the colors I chose.  And it was cheaper and way more skilled than anything I've gotten in NYC.  I was thrilled.

After that I headed over to a neighboring wine store, which was fantastic.  There was a wine-tasting going on which looked tempting, except that I was driving.  I picked up a gift bottle for Christi and found a bottle of a wine featured in Food & Wine magazine.  I also picked up a souvenir--a seashell wine cork, those kinds with the silver cork so you can temporarily cork a bottle throughout the evening as you are enjoying it.  I've never had one, so this was cool.  And screamed San Diego.

I stopped at Carlsbad State Beach on the way and enjoyed that.  Once again, I marveled at the summer dress I was wearing with sandals, in November.

I got back to San Diego and ate at a wine & tapas restaurant at the corner called The Vine.  It was a great environment.  I was the only lone diner there, which made me a mystery.  I figured what really made me a mystery was the glowing, poreless face.  I enjoyed a complex Cabernet and a small plate of penne in a red wine sauce, with broccoli rabe, sun-dried tomatoes and mushrooms, all fantastic, then walked back to Christi's place.  In spite of the fact that it was only 9pm local time, I collapsed into bed and slept like a baby.