Very quickly, as I've waited too long and no longer care about accurately recording the trip:
Saturday we went to Hobee's for breakfast. They gave me a continent-sized piece of coffee cake with my already well-balanced, food-intensive meal. I got about three bites in before hitting my limit. From there we went to the Rose Garden. San Jose has one, and it's really amazing if you care a lick about gardening. I recommend going in the spring. I took lots of pictures for my and Jeremy's moms, as they love that kind of stuff. I amused myself with pictures of the restrooms and the icy stainless steel toilet seats, and dead flowers.
We drove to Santa Cruz and walked the boardwalk. It was like the picture you have of Califonia from watching it on television. It felt fake. We bypassed the world's largest avocado (not that a quick peek didn't have my vote), and drove back along Route 1. I saw lots of ocean hitting rocky cliffs. That night we went to Henry and Lisa's, where we (read: I) got drunk (not intentionally. Lisa makes an impressively mixerless mixed drink) and had dinner. We watched a movie in their movie theater, then Henry gave me the technology tour of the house. There's a lot of detail I don't remember anymore, but it was amazing. Henry is some kind of technological genius. Everything's wired to something, and he has these extra rooms he makes out of the desire to do something different...I can't even explain it anymore. The technology tour is the one part of this narration that suffers from time. We left just before one, and went immediately to sleep upon arriving home.
Sunday was a calm day. Peter went to Apple, and Lorrie and I watched television. In the afternoon, we went to Valley Fair (I think it what it was called?), the nearby mall, and she bought me some Origins products as an early birthday present. Peter picked us up, and we went back to their place. We tried Alton Brown's mac 'n' cheese recipe for dinner, but I think we used too potent a mustard seed. (brown instead of yellow? I think Lorrie said it makes a difference?) It was okay. We also had some exceptionally good spinach-artichoke dip. Peter retired early that night, and Lorrie and I got a chance to have some quality chitchat. And watch more TV. And a movie. We stayed up plenty late.
The next morning, Peter worked the morning at Apple, and Lorrie (who had the day off) and I slept. At 11:00 they brought me to the airport and took off. I went in and got settled. While having my luggage scanned, an alarm went off nearby. No less than fifty airport employees yelled "FREEZE!" and started charging toward the woman who must've set it off. The airport was silent for minutes after that. Everything stopped, and I stood and shoelessly waited to find out what the hell was going on. About ten minutes later, people started trickling back to the stations they were manning, and things started moving again. I never found out what happened, but it was one of the scariest things I've ever experienced. I got on the plane fine, and sat with an older couple from outside Portland, Oregon. We chatted on and off for the duration of the flight. We got to Boston at 10:30 p.m., where I waited two hours for my bus (it was 45 minutes late. I was convinced I had missed it). It came, we got to Portland at 2:00 a.m., and Jeremy was already there. We drove back to Jay, arriving at 3:30 a.m. I had the next day off, thankfully. And that was my trip.
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