It all started one day last week when my department at work knocked off early for it annual Christmas luncheon. We usually make it a very late lunch (around 3 or so) and then just go home when we're done. This year we went to Claim Jumper, which is near Bridgeport Village but far away from my usual stomping grounds.
For the first time in a few years, we didn't have to treat ourselves to lunch, because we were given a budget (rock on, new CEO - Mission Employee Satisfaction under way!) AND I got to have their delicious Grilled Cobb Sandwich, which I love because it features a palate pleasing triumverate of avocado, blue cheese and garlic. It is also great, because there is always a 1/2 a sandwich to spare for late night snacking at home, which saves me having to take time out of my busy loafing schedule to make dinner.
Afterwards, we all split a piece of cake that was bigger than my head, leaving enough leftovers for four of us to take a little piece home. In case you were wondering if anyone ever comes in alone and orders a slice of cake, the answer is no. I know, because I asked. I had to. Even with CJ's traditionally gigantic portion sizes, this cake was freakishly large and as a socially aware citizen I was concerned about the size of America's already large ass.
I tell you about my culinary adventures in a strange part of town to set the stage for the real purpose of this post, which is to announce that I not only possess great theater parking karma, but also its spiritual sister of intuitive navigation! Sure, my gut sometimes navigates me to snyper hotels in Yuba City or through a series of bad turns leading to the heart of Compton, but that's California for you. Besides, I always make it home sooner or later!
This time was no exception. Filled with food and holiday cheer, I headed out of the restaurant, promptly merging into the wrong lane to make the turn back onto the freeway. It really wasn't my fault. Anyone who knows the clusterfuck that is traffic getting onto I-5 at that intersection at rush hour will understand. Once in the wrong lane I was doomed. Doomed I tell you! There would be no going back without inducing a serious case of road rage in one of my fellow commuters and that's not what I'm about. As we all know, I'm all about the love, baby! (Besides, I was too busy singing and getting my holiday groove on to "Santa's Doin' the Mambo" to be bothered with cutting anyone off.)
So, I looked at the road ahead and thought to myself "This kinda goes in the direction I ultimately want," and forged on. I know I could have consulted a map, but here's the thing: Maps are for suckers! They rob all the fun from the game. Besides, as I know from first hand experience, maps can be deceiving.
For example, Compton is not nearly as far from the Harbor Freeway as it looks on the map. One miscalculation plus a shady looking orange seller milling around the middle of the road right at the instersection and the next thing you know, you've made a pre-emptive right turn into no u-turn land and you're going in the opposite direction from the bookstore you're trying to find. Pretty soon, already defeated and ready to cry, you hit a pothole on the 405 and blow a tire. Next thing you know, you're somewhere in Long Beach with a busted emergency spare and sitting in the back seat of a police car (in case you were contemplating a life of crime, by the way, I can tell you a little secret: police cars - not that comfortable!) where an officer has kindly allowed you to get out of the rain while she waits with you for the tow truck to come. I'm telling, you maps aren't everything!
Anyway, as it turned out, I was headed for Lake Oswego. It's not exactly the 'hood. The worst thing that might happen to me there is being shunned by a gang of wealthy soccer moms or a ejection from the city limits by a group of hippie hating yuppies. But that is not my point. My point is that through a roundabout series of turns, I actually made my way back to familiar territory without having to backtrack!
Buoyed by navigational success plus my recent good parking karma, my mission in life becomes clearer to me. Not only does God want me to go to the theater more often, but He thinks I should dine out as part of the deal. I hear you, Big Guy. Thy will be done! Sounds like the makings of a good New Year's resolution to me!
P.s. In a piece of unrelated (but much more exciting) news, Baxter now has a girlfriend. He got her as an early birthday present. (If you want to send gifts, he will be another year older on Boxing Day.) Is she not the most adorable thing EVER?????