The Mature Woman's College Road Trip or Thelma and Louise with a happier ending
Nov 16th, 2005, 01:24 PM
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The Mature Woman's College Road Trip or Thelma and Louise with a happier ending
The Mature Woman’s College Roadtrip or Thelma and Louise with a happier ending.
Just so as not to disappoint there was no Brad Pitt but bad driving did make a few appearances.
Inspired by all the fun our children seem to enjoy both getting to and from college as well as on breaks away from it, my friend (C) and I decided to institute the mature woman’s college road trip. In other words-the same colleges but nicer hotels, wineries, and a spa thrown in.
We flew into Santa Barbara from Seattle.Our trip to the airport was dicey as traffic was nearly stopped and we were chauffeured by C’s unemployed son. His employment status is not a positive factor in his current family relationships so the traffic set off a volatile exchange between him and his mother which reached epic proportions as we neared the airport. But we arrived and in time. Our next obstacle was the size of the plane which excited a large amount of trepidation in C. As we walked down the tarmac I merely outlined her options (walk to SB or fly) and so we entered the plane.
On arrival in Santa Barbara, C, an ardent Oprah fan, thought that we should detour to Montecito to find Oprah’s house. A haphazard grid search of Montecito did not reward us with any sightings and after convincing her that asking the mailman for Oprah’s address was inadvisable we set off to find highway 154 to wine country (anyone else need a drink?). By the way Montecito is a very nice town reminding me very much of Greenwich,Conn. with major solar gain.
Highway 154 was a very pretty (and curvy) highway that led us by lakes, rolling hills and vineyards. We stopped in at Firestone (yes the Bachelor also figures in the mix) and got a free tasting due to the tasting room being under construction. We enjoyed the views and tastes of 5 wines but weren’t interested in buying any.
We rejoined highway 101 after stopping in Los Olivos and looking around a bit. Our destination was San Luis Obispo (my daughter’s college town) and the Thursday Farmer’s Market. We arrived around 5 and checked in just in time for the hotel’s wine tasting and hors d’ouevres (is this pinpoint planning or what?). After a glass or two of wine we walked down to Higuera Street to the market. This market has been around since 1983 and every time I go I wish I could take home the artichokes, eggplant sized avocados, ruby strawberries, and the gorgeous flowers. We strolled the length smelling all the great barbequed meats, kebabs, restaurant offerings, and listening to the bands at the cross streets. We had dinner reservations at 6:30 so we resisted all the great aromas.
Not only was dinner on the slate but we were also scheduled to meet for the first time, my daughter’s boyfriend. I had spent the previous week nurturing her confidence about this meeting by describing my spike heels, micromini skirt, and belly baring wife beater ensemble that would of course impress and befriend the boyfriend. In addition we had drawn up a list of the ten most embarrassing questions and a few carefully selected blackmail appropriate pictures. Strangely she called to say that she had to cancel because she had dodge ball playoffs. Kids are so unpredictable these days.
Tomorrow: A pilgrimage to Oprah’s favorite sandwich shoppe and the boyfriend arrives
Just so as not to disappoint there was no Brad Pitt but bad driving did make a few appearances.
Inspired by all the fun our children seem to enjoy both getting to and from college as well as on breaks away from it, my friend (C) and I decided to institute the mature woman’s college road trip. In other words-the same colleges but nicer hotels, wineries, and a spa thrown in.
We flew into Santa Barbara from Seattle.Our trip to the airport was dicey as traffic was nearly stopped and we were chauffeured by C’s unemployed son. His employment status is not a positive factor in his current family relationships so the traffic set off a volatile exchange between him and his mother which reached epic proportions as we neared the airport. But we arrived and in time. Our next obstacle was the size of the plane which excited a large amount of trepidation in C. As we walked down the tarmac I merely outlined her options (walk to SB or fly) and so we entered the plane.
On arrival in Santa Barbara, C, an ardent Oprah fan, thought that we should detour to Montecito to find Oprah’s house. A haphazard grid search of Montecito did not reward us with any sightings and after convincing her that asking the mailman for Oprah’s address was inadvisable we set off to find highway 154 to wine country (anyone else need a drink?). By the way Montecito is a very nice town reminding me very much of Greenwich,Conn. with major solar gain.
Highway 154 was a very pretty (and curvy) highway that led us by lakes, rolling hills and vineyards. We stopped in at Firestone (yes the Bachelor also figures in the mix) and got a free tasting due to the tasting room being under construction. We enjoyed the views and tastes of 5 wines but weren’t interested in buying any.
We rejoined highway 101 after stopping in Los Olivos and looking around a bit. Our destination was San Luis Obispo (my daughter’s college town) and the Thursday Farmer’s Market. We arrived around 5 and checked in just in time for the hotel’s wine tasting and hors d’ouevres (is this pinpoint planning or what?). After a glass or two of wine we walked down to Higuera Street to the market. This market has been around since 1983 and every time I go I wish I could take home the artichokes, eggplant sized avocados, ruby strawberries, and the gorgeous flowers. We strolled the length smelling all the great barbequed meats, kebabs, restaurant offerings, and listening to the bands at the cross streets. We had dinner reservations at 6:30 so we resisted all the great aromas.
Not only was dinner on the slate but we were also scheduled to meet for the first time, my daughter’s boyfriend. I had spent the previous week nurturing her confidence about this meeting by describing my spike heels, micromini skirt, and belly baring wife beater ensemble that would of course impress and befriend the boyfriend. In addition we had drawn up a list of the ten most embarrassing questions and a few carefully selected blackmail appropriate pictures. Strangely she called to say that she had to cancel because she had dodge ball playoffs. Kids are so unpredictable these days.
Tomorrow: A pilgrimage to Oprah’s favorite sandwich shoppe and the boyfriend arrives
Nov 17th, 2005, 06:43 AM
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micro mini and wifebeater!!! That sounds like something my mom would do...when we were teenagers and did not want her close to us at the mall, she would angle her head and start drooling, calling our names all the while. Needless to say, we much preferred walking with her to stave off these "attacks".
Amy
Amy
Nov 17th, 2005, 06:51 AM
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My only resort as a parent now is mental/emotional abuse so acting goofy or threatening weirdness is my preferred method now.
Unfortunately I have too much work this am but will add on to the report later today.
Oprah apparently does lives in Montecito (large gates w/ big O's on them [can't miss it
]) and apparently Rob Lowe lives next door, all this from my Oprah afficionado-I stuck to wine.
Unfortunately I have too much work this am but will add on to the report later today.
Oprah apparently does lives in Montecito (large gates w/ big O's on them [can't miss it
]) and apparently Rob Lowe lives next door, all this from my Oprah afficionado-I stuck to wine.
Nov 17th, 2005, 08:13 AM
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Oh thank God, the wait is no more.
Dearest Sue, I have been on pins and needles waiting for you to go 'somewhere' good heavens 'anywhere' since I last read your trip report to Italy.
Good things come to those who wait.
Tiff
Dearest Sue, I have been on pins and needles waiting for you to go 'somewhere' good heavens 'anywhere' since I last read your trip report to Italy.
Good things come to those who wait.
Tiff
Nov 17th, 2005, 12:41 PM
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Meet the Rent
After a peaceful, heat lamp assisted al fresco dinner we returned to Petit Soleil, my favorite San Luis hotel, and turned in for the night. Since this is my side of the story I could leave out that I snore (actually one of my lesser evils) but in the interest of balance and fair play I confess.
My daughter met us the next morning for the amazing breakfast at Petit Soleil: a strata or pancake entrée with scones,coffee cake(all pastries homemade), toast,English muffins,fresh fruit, great coffee (remember we are from the land of Starbucks) and fruit juices. Now it seemed clear that dodgeball finals were highly demanding physical contests because let’s be honest DD didn’t look real perky. Of course for her purposes morning begins at about noon and finishes up at what we call cocktail hour (whenever) so there’s that, plus it’s possible that a celebration of some sort followed the competition.
As a confirmed trip nazi the day was laid out so we scurried off to the rental car to go to Sycamore Springs and the trail head of the Bob Jones Trail. The trail is paved mostly and follows the San Luis creek from the springs to the ocean at Avila Beach. The trail winds through woods, a golf course, a planned community (Stepford-ish), and then ends at Avila. Just as I had planned we had a coffee from the general store and sat on the sea wall to gaze in wonder at the sunshine and surf. We poor solar deprived Washingtonians can get a bit lost in bright light so I prodded C and DD and we returned back on the trail (4 mi roundtrip) to the rental car.
Next was the rescheduled “meet the boyfriend” date. Again in a nod to my Oprah cult member we met at Art Café. Apparently about a year or so ago the café was on the verge of closing when Oprah swept in and catapulted it to culinary best seller. I’d been there before and wasn’t won over but that was breakfast and this was lunch so who knew?
So we showered and met DD and boyfriend. As we approached the café they were driving past and I could swear they were going to try to make a run for it but they parked.
I had foresworn the wifebeater and was quite well disguised as a normal person. In a funny turnabout the BF was very relaxed and talkative and my DD looked a little pale and nauseous. So I had a moment of enjoyment thinking of all the discomfort she’s caused me and I felt I was getting a little much deserved payback. Anyway the BF was wonderful but the lunch was not. Service was so slow as to be measured by the calendar and 2 of the sandwiches were practically inedible (from height and bread density). In any case I don’t think Art Café is long for this world but I feel certain that Oprah will live a long life and C still feels confident about the Oprah imprimatur.
Next on the schedule was a winery visit but DD circumvented that with a need for groceries and wardrobe enhancement services.
So after I had taken pleasure in her anxiety I had to resolve the guilt with some new clothes for her and as long as I was shopping maybe a little for me.
San Luis is a small town and as we made our way around with a detour to bubblegum alley (disgusting 3 foot wide corridor completely covered with bubblegum “art”), we told our road trip story to the clerks and then someone from one store would be in the next and soon we were Thelma and Louising all over the place.
After our retail swathe was completed we dropped off DD (she was textmessaging frantically, I’m sure she was affectionately referring to our time together with family and friends) and headed north to Hearst Castle.
I had booked an evening tour to start at sunset. The sunset was gorgeous and viewed from the outdoor pool with the roman columns in the foreground it was truly like being immersed in a post card. For the night tours there are docents all over the grounds and in the cottages and mansion, dressed in period costumes. You are supposed to feel like an invited guest but since we had to stay to the pathway and not touch anything, I pretty much felt like a tourist on a tour. This was my fourth tour of Hearst Castle and it really is a highlight especially since the night tour touches on the highlights of the other 4 tours.
After the tour we drove south to Cambria and ate at Robins which is a funky spot with great food.
Next: Skip ahead to the only other interesting part
After a peaceful, heat lamp assisted al fresco dinner we returned to Petit Soleil, my favorite San Luis hotel, and turned in for the night. Since this is my side of the story I could leave out that I snore (actually one of my lesser evils) but in the interest of balance and fair play I confess.
My daughter met us the next morning for the amazing breakfast at Petit Soleil: a strata or pancake entrée with scones,coffee cake(all pastries homemade), toast,English muffins,fresh fruit, great coffee (remember we are from the land of Starbucks) and fruit juices. Now it seemed clear that dodgeball finals were highly demanding physical contests because let’s be honest DD didn’t look real perky. Of course for her purposes morning begins at about noon and finishes up at what we call cocktail hour (whenever) so there’s that, plus it’s possible that a celebration of some sort followed the competition.
As a confirmed trip nazi the day was laid out so we scurried off to the rental car to go to Sycamore Springs and the trail head of the Bob Jones Trail. The trail is paved mostly and follows the San Luis creek from the springs to the ocean at Avila Beach. The trail winds through woods, a golf course, a planned community (Stepford-ish), and then ends at Avila. Just as I had planned we had a coffee from the general store and sat on the sea wall to gaze in wonder at the sunshine and surf. We poor solar deprived Washingtonians can get a bit lost in bright light so I prodded C and DD and we returned back on the trail (4 mi roundtrip) to the rental car.
Next was the rescheduled “meet the boyfriend” date. Again in a nod to my Oprah cult member we met at Art Café. Apparently about a year or so ago the café was on the verge of closing when Oprah swept in and catapulted it to culinary best seller. I’d been there before and wasn’t won over but that was breakfast and this was lunch so who knew?
So we showered and met DD and boyfriend. As we approached the café they were driving past and I could swear they were going to try to make a run for it but they parked.
I had foresworn the wifebeater and was quite well disguised as a normal person. In a funny turnabout the BF was very relaxed and talkative and my DD looked a little pale and nauseous. So I had a moment of enjoyment thinking of all the discomfort she’s caused me and I felt I was getting a little much deserved payback. Anyway the BF was wonderful but the lunch was not. Service was so slow as to be measured by the calendar and 2 of the sandwiches were practically inedible (from height and bread density). In any case I don’t think Art Café is long for this world but I feel certain that Oprah will live a long life and C still feels confident about the Oprah imprimatur.
Next on the schedule was a winery visit but DD circumvented that with a need for groceries and wardrobe enhancement services.
So after I had taken pleasure in her anxiety I had to resolve the guilt with some new clothes for her and as long as I was shopping maybe a little for me.
San Luis is a small town and as we made our way around with a detour to bubblegum alley (disgusting 3 foot wide corridor completely covered with bubblegum “art”), we told our road trip story to the clerks and then someone from one store would be in the next and soon we were Thelma and Louising all over the place.
After our retail swathe was completed we dropped off DD (she was textmessaging frantically, I’m sure she was affectionately referring to our time together with family and friends) and headed north to Hearst Castle.
I had booked an evening tour to start at sunset. The sunset was gorgeous and viewed from the outdoor pool with the roman columns in the foreground it was truly like being immersed in a post card. For the night tours there are docents all over the grounds and in the cottages and mansion, dressed in period costumes. You are supposed to feel like an invited guest but since we had to stay to the pathway and not touch anything, I pretty much felt like a tourist on a tour. This was my fourth tour of Hearst Castle and it really is a highlight especially since the night tour touches on the highlights of the other 4 tours.
After the tour we drove south to Cambria and ate at Robins which is a funky spot with great food.
Next: Skip ahead to the only other interesting part
Nov 18th, 2005, 10:03 AM
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The Last Part
We started south on our drive and stopped at Baileyanna winery which was so so and then to Domaine Alfred which was great and we bought both Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.
We stayed in Newport that night and checked out Laguna and Balboa Island, then on to our final destination-San Diego. C’s daughter attends USD which has a beautiful campus and lots of new buildings since I had last visited.
We had planned a spa day at the Lodge at Torrey Pines so we headed up early in order to enjoy the pool. I am a bit deficient in the genetic markers for elegance so at the pool I queried C (who has been numerous times) if there were any unwritten spa rules that I needed to know.
Feeling like I’d probably survive the facial without significant faux pas I showered, donned my robe, and entered the “quiet room” to drink cucumber water and tea and relax for my facial.
Shannon came out and called me into my treatment room and asked me to lie on the bed and use the blanket. Immediately I knew that this was a trap. Under a blanket in a robe? Or worse yet naked and not supposed to be. So I took the timid route and lay down with my robe on covering my numerous non-super model spots. Of course Shannon came in and immediately spotted my error and asked me to remove my robe. OK-full nudity for a facial-go figure.
The facial got underway and I tried to stifle the Woody Allen/Larry David sound track in my head. I also fretted about being the joke of the break room, suffocating on the heated blanketed bed with my robe tightly wrapped around me. I was just starting to relax and not worry about dislodging the vegetables on my eyes when Shannon asked me if I’d had this rough patch on my nose for long- I should really consult a dermatologist. Thus began my seesaw mental battle: nose amputation, prosthetic nose, Michael Jackson nose, what does she know, mask availability for after the surgery and so on and so on.
So after an agonizing battle with myself, the facial ended and I returned to “relax” again in the quiet room. Sipping cucumber water I reasoned that I felt pretty good and maybe it wasn’t stage 3 melanoma and decided to go shower and change.
Naturally I chose the only handicapped shower which in effect I am-cognitively anyway, but this seemed pretty harmless and fortunately no one else needed the stall.
Next I sat at the nicely set up vanity table and dried my hair and then decided to use the magnifying mirror to apply makeup. Normally I avoid these devices, calmly accepting that fading near vision is a gift to avoid close acquaintance with the ravages of time. However it seemed fitting now that my pores were so clear and hydrated. I gently pulled on the mirror to bring it closer when it fell out of its bracket and swung wildly by its wiring. This was truly a sign from God to finish up so I hurriedly did, cleverly stationing the hair spray in front of the damaged mirror.
I cannot be held responsible for any other damage so I repaired to the bar for a delicious glass of wine that, at only 14 dollars a glass, seemed cheap.
We started south on our drive and stopped at Baileyanna winery which was so so and then to Domaine Alfred which was great and we bought both Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.
We stayed in Newport that night and checked out Laguna and Balboa Island, then on to our final destination-San Diego. C’s daughter attends USD which has a beautiful campus and lots of new buildings since I had last visited.
We had planned a spa day at the Lodge at Torrey Pines so we headed up early in order to enjoy the pool. I am a bit deficient in the genetic markers for elegance so at the pool I queried C (who has been numerous times) if there were any unwritten spa rules that I needed to know.
Feeling like I’d probably survive the facial without significant faux pas I showered, donned my robe, and entered the “quiet room” to drink cucumber water and tea and relax for my facial.
Shannon came out and called me into my treatment room and asked me to lie on the bed and use the blanket. Immediately I knew that this was a trap. Under a blanket in a robe? Or worse yet naked and not supposed to be. So I took the timid route and lay down with my robe on covering my numerous non-super model spots. Of course Shannon came in and immediately spotted my error and asked me to remove my robe. OK-full nudity for a facial-go figure.
The facial got underway and I tried to stifle the Woody Allen/Larry David sound track in my head. I also fretted about being the joke of the break room, suffocating on the heated blanketed bed with my robe tightly wrapped around me. I was just starting to relax and not worry about dislodging the vegetables on my eyes when Shannon asked me if I’d had this rough patch on my nose for long- I should really consult a dermatologist. Thus began my seesaw mental battle: nose amputation, prosthetic nose, Michael Jackson nose, what does she know, mask availability for after the surgery and so on and so on.
So after an agonizing battle with myself, the facial ended and I returned to “relax” again in the quiet room. Sipping cucumber water I reasoned that I felt pretty good and maybe it wasn’t stage 3 melanoma and decided to go shower and change.
Naturally I chose the only handicapped shower which in effect I am-cognitively anyway, but this seemed pretty harmless and fortunately no one else needed the stall.
Next I sat at the nicely set up vanity table and dried my hair and then decided to use the magnifying mirror to apply makeup. Normally I avoid these devices, calmly accepting that fading near vision is a gift to avoid close acquaintance with the ravages of time. However it seemed fitting now that my pores were so clear and hydrated. I gently pulled on the mirror to bring it closer when it fell out of its bracket and swung wildly by its wiring. This was truly a sign from God to finish up so I hurriedly did, cleverly stationing the hair spray in front of the damaged mirror.
I cannot be held responsible for any other damage so I repaired to the bar for a delicious glass of wine that, at only 14 dollars a glass, seemed cheap.
