| Well I did it. My first ski road trip, and what a disaster.
You live and you learn they say.
So, a friend from San Jose barted to Berkeley saturday afternoon. I give him the quick campus tour, walking all around, and eventually stopping by a cafe to grab some dinner. I always forget what it's called, but it's that ghetto, peach-looking building on Durant and Telegraph. They got some really good food over there. The chicken sandwich. Mmm, thanks Shug for pointing that place out. My friend and I caught up over the years, lots of fun, etc etc.
Once we got back to my apartment, we hung out for a bit and watched Ocean's Eleven. Seriously, he's missed out on sooo many good movies out there. Never watched Ocean's Eleven, About Schmidt, Analyze This, Bedazzled, Fight Club, Gladiator, In Good Company (I've only seen this one recently, very very cool), Office Space, Rain Man, The Usual Suspects, The Pianist...the list goes on.
Anyway, afterwards I tell him I gotta sleep to prepare for the long, long driving tomorrow in the wee hours of the morning. Trying not to be a lousy host, I let him fiddle on my computer just as long as he has headphones on. I think he ended up watching 6 hours of anime straight (sounds like someone I know). However, with all the indirect lighting on the walls and flashing colors, I couldn't sleep at all. By the time he packs up and goes to bed, my roomate comes back home and decides to call someone. It sounded like he was catching up with someone, so I didn't tell him to stop. Normally, he would have left the apartment to talk, but him being sick and all lately, asking him to leave would have been too cruel to ask for. Two hours later my roomate hangs up and guess what: it's pack-up time. I woke up 10am saturday morning to write up a proposal, and it is now 2:30am sunday. I didn't get any sleep at all. Next time, I'm taking drastic measures to make sure I get my sleep before driving on long, long road-trips. Even if I have to be a bad host or a stingy roomate, I'm not going to go through this again...
Anyway, 3:30 in the morning, I start my car and we're off. I put on some good tunes and talk some more for a bit. Not six songs into the album, he wants to sleep. Ok, that's fine, that's natural, it's hella early in the morning anyway. I set the car in cruise control for a smooth ride, and let the album play out. No one to talk to, no music to listen to, getting somewhat tired from lack of sleep. Man, what a crappy way to drive. I guess I got a taste of what it feels like to be my dad when he drives me long places (Tahoe, Reno, etc). Am I being too kind? Is it wrong to wake up passengers to at least play some music, since talking is out of the question.
Fortunately, I discovered one kick-ass highway US-50. That woke me up for sure. 70 miles of single-lane tight twists and turns, omg...what a blast. Not only that, there's abolsutely no one in front of or behind me. I could go at whatever pace (fast) I wanted. It was pretty friggin black too, I had to use my brights quite a bit of the way. Somehow , I was going a lot faster than google's expected average speed, since the directions said it would take ~3 hours and 40 minutes. Unintentionally, I ended up pulling off 2 hours and 30 minutes flat. It was so dark when I hit the ski resort, I almost flew past the incredibly large and hard-to-miss Sierra-At-Tahoe sign.
So, I drive around mindlessly in the parking lot labyrinths and eventually find the main base camp. Being the first ones there at 6:30 in the morning, I took the best spot. I find out later, there's a $15 parking fee for my lot. They just weren't around to charge us at the entrance when we got there  . With 2 full hours to spare, I get my first wink of rest. O how great that felt, I so needed that.
Anyway, I had a great time skiing. There were some spots that were dangerously icy though. It was impossible to get any kind of traction. At least 5 times during the day, my skis nearly took off from under me. That was some really scary stuff.
At the end of the day, it was time to head back. I'm nearly pooped at this time. I never slept at all, except for that 2 hour break, of which I only slept 1. And low and behold, guess what I gotta deal with: Traffic. US-50 is the only entrance to the ski resort, and everyone and their mother was headed my direction (California). US-50 wasn't nearly as fun anymore. And guess what, my friend wants to go to sleep again, and we haven't even left the ski resort. Same deal, same routine. I let the album play out and let him sleep. At least I had a little bit of fun. Driving at somewhat slower speeds, I got to concentrate on driving lots more smoother on windy roads. I kept my speed somewhat ideal with minimal braking, uber cool.
Unfortunately, after US-50 comes I-80. The long, boring, straight, flat freeway that heads all the way to Berkeley. Not only that, I couldn't turn on cruise control this time with so many cars around. Somewhere in the middle of I-80, I could truly feel the effects of lack of sleep coming to me. The best thing to do would have been to pull over, stop, and sleep it out. But due to a couple reasons, my friend wanted to bart home the same day, Sunday. Not wanting to burden his parents by making them wait till ~midnight to pick him up from Fremont, I toughed it out. My friend got hungry on the way, so we stopped by McDonalds. I had to fill up on gas too, since it is impossible to make a round trip on one tank.
I buy $2 worth of food on the menu, some chicken sandwich and small frys. I paid so much more than $2 for that "dinner." You'll see why soon.
After the long, boring drive on I-80, I instantly become incredibly alert once I saw the all-too-familiar city life. As far as the eye can see, lights resembling Berkeley. I'm like Yes!! We're almost there! I cross the not-so-famous bridge to the north, which looks really gorgeous at night. Knowing University would be jam-packed like it always is, I pulled off the freeway in El Cerrito and do some night-driving . I get off Central, turn onto San Pablo, turn on Marin, to MLK, to Hearst, and head home. That was so much fun with the somewhat lack of cars and the pitch-black night sky. I pretty much gassed it the whole way. Never would I do such a thing with passengers in the car, but with the long and incredibly tiring day, I so needed that.
I drop my friend off at Bart, head home, and instantly pass out. But no! The day doesn't stop there. This is where McDonalds came back and slapped me in the face. 3 hours later, I wake up  . It's midnight, and I get incredibly hungry. There was no way I could sleep with the hunger pain I felt that night. So, I moan and gripe my way out of bed and cook myself a dinner. Not two bites in, I instantly lose my appetite. I can't eat any more, so I drink a lil apple juice to soothe my pains. I think that made it even worse. I head to bed and moments later I wake up yet again. My body was rejecting all the stuff in my stomach. I think I got food poisoned. No matter what I did, the same routine. I wake up and run to the bathroom. All night. My body wouldn't even accept water. That was the best remedy I could find however. It left absolutely no after-taste, and it didn't hurt. I think it cleaned out my system too.
So, yea. I'm now incredibly sick, sitting in bed, still lacking sleep since 10am on Saturday. I think I'll just lay in bed all day, hoping it'll go away. I feel a tiny bit better, but I still wish I can sleep. I've been thinking about sleeping pills all night. Maybe I should go purchase them, just in case something drastic like this happens again *knock on wood*. I would have taken NyQuil to knock me out, but it turns out it doesn't cure terrible tummyaches.
What a day, what a day... |
Stellar way to make a good second impression.
