1. Where was I born?
2. Where did I actually grow up?
3. How man years (approximately) did I spend in that state where I grew up?
4. Where do I once again find myself living after a two-year absence?
Many of my dear readers know most of the answers to these, but I'll post them, anyway.
1. Omaha, Nebraska (random).
2. Rancho Cordova and Folsom, California.
3. Twenty-four years (give or take a few months).
4. That's right, California.
Why am I bringing this up? Because I find it really, really disconcerting that after 24 years of living within 40 miles of Sacramento, I still can get hopelessly lost there. On grid streets.
Pretty sad.
I went to my friend Heather's house last night for a small birthday get-together for our friend Pam. As Heather had to work all day and I sat on my butt with a romance novel in hand most of the day, I offered my hands and car to help Heather get things together. She gratefully asked me to pick up the cake.
"No problem," said yours truly, glad to be of help. "Yeah, I'm sure I can find the bakery without any problems."
After all, Sacramento has grid streets:
How hard can it be to get to W and 19th streets and find Freeport Blvd.?
For starters, you have to take the directions that Google Maps gave you. My first error was merging onto Hihgway 160 (or some number like that) instead of staying on Business 80 (also affectionately called the Cap City Freeway) and waiting to find the P Street exit.
But I figured it wouldn't be a problem, as this 160-or-whatever runs straight into downtown. I'm on the wrong side, but it's not like Sacramento's as big as, say, London. It doesn't take long to get from 12th and C streets (where I found myself) to W and 19th, right?
Wrong!
I'd forgotten that the one-way streets in Sacramento, just when there seem to be a pattern, go completely ballistic and change on you. Can't continue on 12th street because when you hit L street--hello, Capitol Building!
It goes on and on.
I finally got around the capitol and was heading towards W when my cell phone rang. It was Heather. "How're you doing? The bakery called, they're a bit worried."
"I'm fine! I took a wrong exit but I'm back on track and know where I'm going."
"Oh, good. Well, if you need any help, don't hesitate to call!"
"Oh, I'll be fine! See you in a few!"
A few minutes later, I arrived at W street. A one-way street going--the opposite direction to what I want. Gah!
No problem, I'll get on X street! And that's what I did. A few blocks later, I reached 19th, and made a left as the instructions said, only to realize, "Crap. I'm turned around. I need to make a 'yoo-ee' and go back that way."
I finally got going in the right direction, and after one or two more slightly wrong turns, I found Freeport Blvd., and with it, Freeport Bakery.
But it doesn't end here. Oh no, I have to really embarass myself.
Before I even left Lincoln, Heather had told me specifically, "When you leave the bakery, make a left onto Freeport, go a little ways, and find Broadway, then Alhambra. That goes to Folsom Blvd, and you know the way from there, right?"
"Yep! I know I've been that way to your house before."
I left the bakery, with a gorgeous chocolate cake on the passenger seat and...I made a right turn. It took me a few blocks to realize I'd just done the opposite of what Heather told me to do.
A few minutes and one three-point turn later, I was on my way. I found Broadway. That's when it hit me: I know Broadway from the years my grandparents lived near it, off of 65th Street. Hey, I'm doing good!
I decided to forgo Heather's advice about taking Alhambra to Folsom Blvd. and instead took Broadway to 65th street to Folsom Blvd. Yeah, it's the longer way, but I figured I knew where I'd come out. That cake needed a refridgerator, after all.
Once I arrived at Heather's neighborhood, I made the usual turns to get to her house. And drove right by her street. I'm not kidding. I had to go around a couple of blocks and go back. I wish I could say I'm lying here, but I'm not.
I finally arrived at Heather's house (the cake was fine), and we had a lovely evening. Heather had a gorgeous salad in the works, which we ate with chicken and rolls. Later we ate cake and sat around on her back deck with the Delta breeze cooling us.
I left at about 10:00, because it was a "school night" for Heather and Art. Normally when I leave their house, I drive back towards 65th street and catch Highway 50. When I lived in Folsom, I would take 50 (a straight shot), but now, to get back to Lincoln, I have to take that dear old Cap City freeway.
Last night I decided I should really try to find the shorter way home, and therefore, instead of turning left out of Heather's neighborhood, I turned right, towards downtown. I kept driving, marveling at how I recognized where I was going, etc. Then, up ahead--Cap City Freeway! Yay! I've found it. I'm soooo good!
Yep. So good that I completely missed the freeway entrance (it was dark out!!). For some reason, which eludes me in the light of day, I decided not to turn around and try again, but rather to keep driving. I ended up taking the really long, roundabout way home, by getting on Interstate 5 and taking it to the Interstate 80 junction.
So in the end, a drive that should have taken 30-40 minutes took an hour, and I arrived home at 11:00, safe but exhausted--and a wee bit chagrined at my complete and utter inability to find my way around Sacramento.
I can get lost and un-lost in London in under an hour. I had no fear of getting lost in Seattle (Elliott Bay is quite a directional landmark, I must say). But stick me in Sacramento, the city closest to the town where my parents raised me, and I can't find my way around. Amazing.
And, of course, a little bit embarassing. But I'm a firm believe in laughing at myself, so here you go. Laugh away.
I can just hear Heather laughing now...
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