Go See World...Blurrily.

This is a tough blog because I think it's in my best interest to keep somethings ambiguous and hypothetical, so everything following this sentence is going in a row in the spreadsheet with a column checked "Alleged" on the far right.

Allegedly, I piloted my car down the road of best intentions to the airport and got on a plane headed for San Diego after paying three dollars more for a double at 8:45 AM. So far, so good, right? I met a friend on the plane that was a real friend/colleague? and not one made spontaneously and we were on our way to a conference.

We land at the San Diego airport after listening to my playlist called "Music For Airplanes" which is a collection of the saddest songs that I've ever heard. Reason being, that I fly alone a lot and find solace in listening to really sad music around a bunch of strangers in a confined space. I'll admit that it's pretty weird, but it's what I do. It's either that or talk about some fuckin' ladies cat and a bunch of bullshit for an hour.

At the airport they managed to lose my colleague's bag so we had to go to a place called a CBO or something where I scolded my friend in front of the tense customer service associates by saying loud enough for them to hear that "Of course, your bag is going to be late if you put your vibrator in it." We, then took off to the hotel/resort that we were staying at and thought about catching a baseball game, but lack of initiative and the weather swayed our opinions.

Instead, we went to the hotel patio bar and saw how many empty lowballs I could stack vertically while giving the bartender a gang of shit about the cats that she owned. They were named "Sassy" and "Smudge."

The final number was a stack of 6 and a stack of 4. They were quite impressive and even the bartender started helping with it. Poor thing, I think I did turn on her, but she was a really good sport about it and even fired back a few things. So, this Brit expatriot and his girlfriend were sitting behind us and I had an Arsenal jersey on so we talked for a bit and then became friends. This is that other version of friends. The more spontaneous version. They were super cool people, though. So, they bought me a drink and we stayed for a while and another colleague showed up and we went mobile to watch some NCAA tournament.

We jump in a cab where I'm driving the cab driver crazy by intorducing her to words like "FuckDick" and then telling her that if she picks us up and gives us a ride home that I 'll let her give me bath. Apparently, it takes double digit vodka and sodas to flip the switch on and then break it so it won't turn off.

We get to a bar on the beach and it's packed with dudes in board shorts and tribal armband tattoos, but we meet dude's friends and they are all supercool, too. So, stuff is working out. We drink beers out of goblets and do a few reverse crunches on the picnic bench (well, I do) and then my colleagues snuck away because they were getting tore up and because they are way smarter than me.

Some dicks with a Sunderland fan get me backed up against a wall for wearing the Arsenal jersey and things are starting to get a little tense, but I manage to get the dude I was with to come talk about England as a distraction with the guy as I peel off to go drink some Red Bull blasters with some local chick. We started talking and then the dudes I was with came and got me because we were leaving. Local chick didn't want to go because "I like him, but I don't like that place you're going." That was nice of her to call me "Him." Then again, I may have introduced myself as Dan Diego. I kept doing that.

So, we end up at a burger place called Rocky's that was really cool and wound down the night over some Stellas. They dropped me off at my resort afterwards and then................Shit got fuckin' weird.

I started walking the wrong way towards my resort. Of course, unbeknownst to me in the state I was in. I came to a barrier in the road and jumped over it figuring that the resort I was going to would be behind it. This became a theme. Also, the fastest way to get from point A to point B is a straight line, right? That assumes that you are going the right direction, pro tip.

So anyway, to keep this short and unincriminating to some degree. I kept coming up to fences and hopping them. I then ended up in a weird place accidentally. It's a place that some of you who read this would know. Also, some of you who I drunk dialed from that place know exactly where it was. It was a very unique experience.

So, anyway, when I got to this place, I realized where I was by some of the more distinct features of the place. Then, four dudes with flashlights started running towards me and I split. It was a collection of more fences. Two fences of interest were the one that was six feet when I faced it and then when I got over the top of it, it was a twenty foot drop on the other side. Buwah-Buwah. I reached behind me and caught some chain link to slow down my fall and managed to mess up my foot and a bit. The debacle closed with the second fence of interest, a barbed wire fence that I used my pant leg to drag on the barbed wire to slow my fall down. That's MacGyver ninja shit right there.

So, I got out of the place of interest and found a guy who was fishing and gave him $20 to get me back to my resort. I was very tired at this point. He threw me into a truck with his wife and took me back to my resort where I happily searched for the bungalow that I was in for an hour.

The next night at the conference the story managed to make it through all of the people that I know at the conference and then also new ones. I must have been asked to tell the story fifteen times at the first cocktail reception and even got referred to as a conference legend now. That last part is kind of scary, though, because I'm pretty sure you've got to die to become a legend. It's part of the deal, right? The bar has been raised in conference shenaniganery. Sad part about that is that I set the same bar last year. Next year I'll wear a fake moustache and be all serious and boring.

Oh, that's the other thing. As I was leaving last night a small group of people lead by this woman asked me if I would be part of this advanced technical users group for the application. This after being Captain Derelict for most of the conference. Whatevs, I guess you can be smart and stupid in tandem. Who knew?

So, anyway, I could probably use a foot x-ray this week, but I'm going to see how icing it does. The rest of the cuts and bruises seem to be healing fine. Needless to say, I'm happy to be back home and in my bed and in the safety of solitude. An uneventful trip to the grocery store sounds pretty good right now.