.

Monterey: Aquarium + 17 Mile Drive

After breakfast at First Awakenings, We headed over to the Monterey Aquarium. The admission line was long, but it moved pretty fast. Once inside, the marine life was beautiful, but the mobs of people were very unfortunate. Everyone is in everyone else's way, the children are unhappy, the parents are dazed and confused.

We had lunch in Pacific Grove, then drove around looking for an inconspicuous place to change clothes for a friend's wedding. It was a complicated situation, but I just didn't want to walk around all day in my wedding attire -- and there's no way that Amy was going to walk around the aquarium in a long skirt and malicious heels. I parked beside a playground in a spot moderately hidden by some bushes. I changed into my dress shirt, did some slow-motion breakdancing in order to tuck it in, and switched my chucks for some loafers. It was weird, but functional.

The wedding was nice -- creative, unique, and not too stuffy. In other words, different than every other wedding that I've ever attended. It took place outdoors in Lover's Point Park, so the seagulls and crows chimed in at times with some commentary. It almost felt like a Pagan ritual. I considered building a circle of rocks and painting my face with mud, embracing the abyss as my blood palpitated with dark energies from the spirit world. But this wasn't the time -- instead I sat still and smiled.

I got to speak with the new bride a bit at the reception. We had a lot of classes together in college, and hadn't seen each other since. She still seems very wild. Overall, the reception was nice, but we didn't really know anyone, and I'm not exactly a social butterfly, so my experience was a bit dry. It didn't help that Amy and I weren't really getting along at that moment. Sometimes she doesn't like it when I talk to her, and I don't know how to not talk to her. We left after an hour.

We were back on 101 North again, heading towards San Francisco. We got hungry and took a detour into a town called Watsonville, where we visited a Burger King drive thru. I cruised down a few neighborhood streets, looking for a place to make a u-turn in order to get back on the freeway. I did not like the look of this town. It was dark, but I was in a bad area -- I could feel it. Strange people were congregating on street corners. Pedestrians had that strange look in the eye. I found my way back to the 101 and hit the gas, heavily.

We hit serious traffic. Lines upon lines of hovering cars. I didn't know if this was just a Labor Day thing, or if it was always like this.

I navigated around herds of angry vehicles. We sped up and down steep highway hills populated with tall trees and dim light poles. The landscape eventually flattened, and the traffic thinned out. I gave Google a nod as I cruised past signs for Mountain View.

I was getting closer to San Francisco. I could sense the city's presence, feel its pulse. My pupils expanded and I entered into the zone. I gained a higher sense of awareness of car, driver, and all relevant subsystems. I could still appreciate the danger of traveling at such a high speed, but I felt complete confidence in my body and the car. I trusted my arms to move my hands, my hands to grip the steering wheel, the steering wheel to move the tires, and the tires to grip the road. The engine churned with the power of many horses, my heart gushed blood throughout circulation chambers, my brain's wet transistors stayed kinetic, capacitors stored charge for later use. We were operating at full capacity. The rest was up to chance.

We entered San Francisco with a whoosh, the quiet night giving way to cable cars, gigantic buildings and cavernous structures. The urban landscape was very unfamiliar to me. We drove in circles for a few minutes with wide eyes and slacked jaws, parked the car, bashed through the doors at the Harbor Court Hotel, and demanded service. I had total credit, with official papers to prove it.