driving while delusional

The trip from Oneonta to my friends' house in New Jersey always makes me feel a bit schizophrenic. I begin to imagine that maybe I'm really still in California.

The fact of visiting them puts me in the mindset, for starters, since we all lived together out there. I can legitimately yell "I'M COMIN', C-KO!!" [our original moving-west mantra; Mark and Kurt and I would periodically shout it during our cross-country journey in an effort to telepathically reassure Mark's cat (who was already there) that we were on our way.] [Yeah, the explanation took longer than the joke; I shoulda left it out. Oh well.] [Next time I will annoy you by simply saying "inside joke" and not explaining anything, I promise.]

...And then there's the thing of taking Route 17 to I-85... no, I mean I-87, of course... then driving south in the dark on an 8-lane highway with trees and hills on my right, city lights on the left; I'm on 280! ... No, no, wait, it's 287. But I think I can almost see Colma! And now I'm looking for the exit to Highway 101... oh no, I mean 202.

Then I start passing signs for Oakland. Skyline. Sand Hill Road. Fair Oaks. What the hell is going on?! And is that really, can it possibly be, the very same Interstate 80 that crosses the Bay Bridge? It is! [Dear Readers, that is one of the oddest things about our interstate highway system; I still can't get my mind around it. It's like the yellow brick road; if I take that Del Water Gap exit (apparently the most spanish-sounding name that New Jersey can muster, but, hey, at least they're trying!) onto I-80, and I drive for awhile ('just minutes!', as Jamie might say), I will eventually find myself in San Francisco! It's too weird.]

And there you have it. The NJ-CA mindgame. It's fun! You should try it sometime.