1. If you accidentally book your ticket in your maiden name (because you’re a spaz and don’t use your middle name very often so even though you’ve been married almost 10 years, when you have to type it out you mentally revert back to childhood, apparently) they will almost arrest you at the airport. At the very least the man who was totally nice and helpful to you when you just couldn’t get your ticket to print out, will take your ID and come back to very sternly ask you questions like, What other names do you go by? and Who booked your tickets for you? until he legitimately trusts that you are less ‘terrorist’ and more ‘dummy’.
2. Contact solution is considered a ‘medical necessity’ so they will test it and allow you to carry more than 3 oz on the plane. Shiny-making spray for your hair is not, and they will take it away. I wonder if that would have gone differently if I had a note from my doctor that said I have a life-threatening condition called “Not-that-pretty-hairitis”.
3. The idea that you can only bring ‘3 oz of liquid in each container’ in your carry-on on the plane is misleading. Apparently the fact that my hairspray container is almost empty and there’s definitely less than 3 0z still in there doesn’t mean it fits within the guidelines. People who work at the airport are neither swayed, nor amused by such loopholes.
4. My brother is not just being a hipster for hating all the typical touristy things in SF. It is really scary the amount of fanny packs, inappropriately short skirts and men in silver paint pretending to be statues at Fisherman’s Warf.
5. If you have the opportunity to watch Mega-Python vs. Gatoroid, you should. For this reason: Tiffany AND Debbie Gibson, starring together in a movie, not playing themselves. It’s on Netflix right now. Invite your 10 favorite friends over and watch it. Right now. Then we can discuss. I’ll wait.
6. If I have the choice between growing old like Tiffany (a puffy, plus-sized model version of the girl who sang I Think We’re Alone Now) or growing old like Debbie Gibson (think a tanned leather glove stretched taught over a skeleton, painted heavily with eye shadow and lipstick so as to somewhat resemble a human female), I choose Tiffany. And I’m going to eat a donut and dye my hair fuschia right now just to ensure it.
7. There is such thing as too many:
Boring group photos.
Alcoholic beverages in one weekend.
Trips to Johnny Rockets at midnight.
(The corresponding amounts to those things are: 3, 30 per person and 1.)
8. There is no such thing as too many:
Awesomely campy theme group photos.
Episodes of My Drunk Kitchen watched in a row. No really. Watch them all one after another and tell me you don’t wish there were more.
Amazing meals of amazingness.
9. It’s not a good idea to visit culturally significant buildings/sights at the very end of an entire day of wine tasting and generally drunkenness. Because then I end up with a photo of this gorgeous building:
And not a single clue as to what it was or why we stopped there.
10. The best part about the gorgeous, fun and amazing city of San Francisco is? That my brother and sister-in-law live there. We had so much fun just being with them and my sister and her husband. You probably shouldn’t even go unless you can talk them into being your tour guides. Totally not worth it.