After meeting up with bunny_hugger and finding my bag, the next challenge was finding the parking garage, which took only slightly longer than you might figure, and her car, which took about as long, and evading the guy panhandling who evidently forgot he met bunny_hugger on the way in or thought that a second attempt might prove worthwhile, which turned out pretty quickly. Also getting the car out of the garage required the finding of hte path out, which was not marked clearly enough that we were able to find it without a few missteps inside the garage and one in the process of going from garage to exit gate. A sign directing us to the left at one point would have avoided our going into a parking lot cul-de-sac. Minor problem.
Driving back from Detroit's airport to her home was only about an hour and so in passage, but was one full of interesting discoveries, not the least of which was how well I fit inside a Honda Civic. I had supposed the car small enough that I'd more need to strap it on than fit in, but actually I felt well-scaled for it, and don't pretend that doesn't confuse my car-buying efforts by opening up choices among the smaller end of general car-ness. And after that was a succession of strange and wonderful place names that had previously been mere fancies of the imagination but were now sitting there in hard, real street signs: Romulus, Novi, Ypsilanti, Fowlerville, Coalinga, Azusa, Cu camonga, and the like. We even, toward the end, rode on Kalamazoo Street.
bunny_hugger is able, thanks to her position in life, to offer me something that I couldn't offer her, the fault of my position in life: the chance to stay at home rather than a hotel. I haven't got a home of my own (and the parents' cats would be dangerous to her allergies). As a result this gave us for the first time a chance to feel simply at rest. We weren't in someone else's house, or out in public somewhere, or driving somewhere, or doing something stimulating exciting as those things might be. But there is a real and tangible thrill in being able to just be present with a person, with the quiet. It was a new and compelling thrill.
It was considerably less thrilling to take out my computer and get the wireless networking to more or less function. For some reason the wireless threw general and erratic fits the whole week, but wireless does that when it finds a new computer on its network. But that was also a relief because all the way before I had boarded in Newark, when I was in the bathroom near my gate, the partially sliced shoulder strap to my messenger bag finally snapped and it and my laptop fell onto the tile floor at the only possible time that I might have had it resting on my shoulder without a hand near the bag's hand straps. Given the fall's distance I didn't think it likely the computer could have sustained serious damage, but it is out of warranty after all. Somehow I hadn't taken the chance to test it before then, possibly because I didn't want to face the prospect of a ruined laptop any sooner than I had to, but somehow I also managed not to worry about the possibility until I opened it up at her house and remembered what had happened.
I also had the chance to meet bunny_hugger's pets, about whom I'd heard so much: several mice of various states of feralness, including one fat but friendly male mouse who doesn't mind being picked up and doing that odd humming-quiver thing in your hand, were the small but more populous attraction. The big one would be her pet rabbit, a dwarf Flemish giant who's larger than I was through second grade. He's got a two-level cage which he can sprawl out almost the width of, and a tendency to poke his nose through the wire mesh, and only a modest look of disapproval at those intruding into his terrain. He also gets let out to hop around the living room and the stairway for a couple hours each day, with the proviso that he likes nibbling power cords so that my laptop's battery got to have its most extensive workout since I used quiet time at work to finish editing the second textbook.
It was very easy to feel at home swiftly.
In car hunt news, I've tried out various cars; the leaders so far seem to be the Scion tC and the Volkswagen Jetta, with the tC having the edge on price and all the stuff that comes standard.
Trivia: Clara Bow appeared in fifteen movies in 1925, the last of them released (The Plastic Age, which was not the last filmed) being her breakout. Source: Clara Bow: Runnin' Wild, David Stenn.
Currently Reading: Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster, Dana Thomas. I'm faintly disappointed in this book. I had expected an examination of the historical process by the stuff that the wealthy do this generation becomes the stuff the well-off do next generation when they're feeling celebratory, and then the stuff everyone next generation figures they get when they're successful, and then become the necessities of life. Instead this comes across as low-level yelling at clouds over how anybody can buy Prada these days. (It's more about `luxury' brands becoming sort-of mass marketed, but I still get my feeling from the text.)