temperance14 | Fog Faire SFO fandango (Reply)

Got home on time from class, Thurs night, but stayed up prepping self and gear for faire.
Friday slept in a bit, feeling rather draggy, until 7am. Printed directions to SF airport (as I’d never been there), and from airport to motel near the beach, but also close to The Park. Dressed packed, spare RW clothes, toiletries, meds and amusements. Packed period looking knitting (wooden needles, oatmeal colored, slubby yarn), which made a bigger hit than I expected, by the way. (Also found more knitters and crocheters than I expected—we are apparently a Pryankster sub group.)

Head out a bit after 9am, heading west on 80 to 101 to Brisbane to SFO to pick up Mrs. Giggle, no problems, no lost. Hit all the exits, and once through the Circus Terminus to find the United pick up areas. Back up freeway to a Starbucks, where I called to confirm flight time and pick up slot. Call from Mrs. Giggles at 11:13 stating she was landing. (Yes, with the airplane). Bought Mrs. Giggles (my target pickup) a hot Chai latte and coffee cake for welcome home, and I head out after 15 minutes to pop back down the highway to the airport. Perfect timing.

OK, except that I go around airport about 4 times, without seeing Mrs. Giggles. By this time, it’s over ½ hour since they landed. Going into the loop for another round, the phone rings. “Uh, it’s going to be awhile. I’ll call you when they’ve found my luggage.”

“Oh. Really.” And at that point I guess I turned the wheel harder than I thought, and the latte that had peaceably ridden for the last few minutes decided to jump up and look at my side passenger door close up. This was an omen.

Went back up road to clean car, while waiting for call from Giggles. Call came, back down road, grabbed a braided redhead with no luggage save a backpack. Luggage is touring Chicago. Take coastal route to motel to unwind, then off to feed the Giggles, who takes a snooze while we wait for lunch. Off to park to find Speedway. Find it.
Back to motel. Rest, then call airlines. After call, discussion, Mrs. G determines that luggage is at airport (they assuring her its there, but keep asking her for prominent features), and yes they finally believe she is Mrs G----but she has to wait for confirming phone call from United or airport, and then luggage should be delivered 4 hours after that. It is now after 6pm. She pins Person on Phone down as to where we need to go to pick up luggage ourselves. Meantime, I’m calling the airport to find out the physical location, and where to park. I’m not dropping her off to do this alone. Warrior bitches---I mean queens---step into their chariot and haul tushie.

Park, upstairs around the corner, split up to check out clerks and luggage lockup. Find very unique luggage, bless her heart. Cell phone her with my location, and sit next to luggage. Raid is successful, and we are out and back to the park directly to find wedding rehearsal in progress. Find out how loud Madame Tromboni can squeak when jumped and surprised. G placed in rehearsal. General schmoozing and warm (thank goddess) hugs go round.

Met the Wonderous Sarah IV Catherine "Kitten" She Who Will Have Chocolate and Fiddles. She is lovely as an angel, bright as the fairies, and good as gold, the true queen of this faire.

Afterwards, off to dinner at same lunch site—Thai and American. Tried the Thai side with

moondanceminx, The Major, and

ribbin. Tales of food experiments and Thanksgiving. Got back to motel. Snoozes. More later.

Note to all: When / if Mrs. Giggles every joins up on Live Journal, we need tales of Pennsic.