January 18

One way to forget about the strike is to travel, eat, drink, or all of the above. I spent most of the day writing and trying not to get ill due to this bug going around. At about 5 PM I received a phone call from a friend, let's call him Joe, who informed me that he had just arrived in San Francisco from New York. It turns out another friend, let's call him Paul, who lives in SF, was a bachelor for the weekend, as his wife and daughter were in the Midwest visiting relatives. I guess his wife was originally going to go without their baby, but her parents filed a formal guilt trip and at the last minute she felt it best to bring said infant along. After Paul did the requisite moping around the house bemoaning their impending absence, he placed a frenzied call to Joe outside of his wife and child's earshot, begging him to head west to help celebrate his impending weekend without diaper doody or finger painting. Joe complied almost immediately, hearing the desperation in Paul's voice, as Paul had not had a break from his familial responsibilities in over a year. Knowing that I was in a malaise and that the Wife was sick of me, Joe called to brag about his planned weekend of debauchery in order to make me feel worse. Overhearing our conversation, the Wife, to our shock and amazement, insisted I join the boys if I could get a cheap, last minute flight. Fearing for the health of my liver and also sensing some sort of elaborate emotional bear trap, I asked if she really meant it as I quickly scanned Travelocity for flights. Wife assured me that she and Baby had plenty to do that weekend and although they would miss me it would be nice for me to play with Paul and Joe. Knowing that her immediate plans included a girl's night at a friend's new home, in which Baby was included, a visit to her brother and his family the next day, and a play date for Baby on Sunday, and taking into account the fact that Baby can now recount the events of her day in amazing detail, I concluded that Wife probably wasn't sending me away so she could continue a torrid affair with somebody, but rather simply wanted to get rid of me and my whining for a couple of days. So while she took Baby into the distant environs of Cheviot Hills, I found a cheap flight leaving early the next morning and started packing. I informed her via cell phone of the time of my departure and she approved, then said Baby was asking for me and I drove over, picked Baby up, gave her a bath and we fell asleep. I called the bachelors, who were practically incoherent as they bathed in a giant vat of sake at some sushi joint, and informed them of my scheduled arrival the following morning, just in time for us to eat lunch. Details to follow in my soon-to-be inaugurated Travel section.