I feel ill. I’ll pretend the sickness is from a virus or bacteria because the truth is worse. I drank two large glasses of red wine last night, a house red I couldn’t identify (and don’t care to because of its sour aftertaste) and a red Zinfandel, which had a pleasant taste, but couldn’t hold itself up to even the cheapest wine I drank in Paris. Two glasses of wine, even the large-sized American glasses, shouldn’t have affected me. Shouldn’t and wouldn’t, is what I say. I felt terrible last night after Doolies and I returned to the hotel room from the restaurant. My head felt like a red balloon inflated past its breaking point, my stomach flipped and cut a rug, and my hands shook. Doolies hoped to join her friends for an evening of dancing, but I had to give her the no-go sign. It wasn’t until a few hours ago that I regained control of my faculties.

I’m flying back from Newport Beach after barely making my flight. There I go again, lying. I made my flight with time to spare—enough time, even, to switch from a one-stop flight to a direct one (I didn’t realize that my original flight stopped in Portland until the ticket guy asked to switch me to the nonstop flight to make room on my original, sold-out flight). The traffic from Palm Springs to John Wayne Airport was bad. So bad that I started freaking out when the traffic dropped to the stop-and-go variety. This isn’t the first time that anxiety gets the best of me and turns me from kind mannered to angry monster. I know I do this, and I try to avoid placing myself in situations where my evil monster displays its evil head. We timed the trip back from Palm Springs close, stopping in Riverside for Doolies to sign medical records she’d neglected for years because of its distance. I ended up making the flight but I left Doolies mentally thrashed as unfair payment.

Two hours left in my flight. Before we started the drive to the airport, we stopped at the aerial tram in Palm Springs. This was my second time riding it, the first when Doug and I hiked the “Desert to Clouds” trail during a CLE. The first time, Doug and I looked with disdain at the “tram people,” as we named them. We spent six hours hiking up switchbacks and different climate zones to reach the tram level. Doolies, a few of her doctor friends, and me were one of those tram people. This was for the best, since six-inches of snow covered the ground at the top of the tram. The views were extraordinary, and I’ll post the pictures after I sort through them.

The purpose of this visit (besides the obvious visit-Doolies purpose) was to attend Doolies’s residency retreat. As a second year (there are three years of residency), her year was responsible for organizing and running the retreat. Doolies, as usual, took lead of the organizing efforts. She’s good at that. The retreat went well and everyone, including the family members, enjoyed the activities. I went to most, but missed the talent show, where Doolies impressed the lot with her incredible voice (remember: how can such a skinny girl, etc.?). Except for the wine (which might have questioned more my constitution than quality), the dinner last night went well and the food was quite tasty.

Since I mentioned the dinner, I should try to clarify what I discussed previously. I did have good reason to drink. When sober, I’m unsocial around people I don’t know, and last night strangers surrounded me. Once I started dipping into the spirits, however, I became more talkative. Had I drank one glass, I would have been sleepy but okay, but I mistakenly decided to push it. For what it’s worth, I did have a good time this weekend, even with the anxiety and travel (this is the third weekend I’m traveling in a row. Next weekend I’m heading to NYC for a CLE, which will hopefully be the last time I travel for a while).

Since I locked myself out of my website (I keep fixing things without testing them, particularly before trips), you probably were unaware that I didn’t write yesterday. I spoke about not attending the talent show, but I didn’t explain why. In the morning, I helped the residents set up their slideshow, ate lunch, and decided I needed sleep. I didn’t really need sleep, but I felt the afternoon activities would be boring (from what I heard, they weren’t). Once in the room, TV got the better of me. I didn’t leave the hotel bed until dinner. Did I mention I lack self-control? Since I was clickerman, I didn’t have the power to open my laptop and type up an entry. I did have a few notes for yesterday, which I’ll tack on to the end of this entry.

Mountains floated on clouds over the horizon. I didn’t realize clouds could raise mountains.