32 posts tagged “travelin fool”

I spent the last 3 days in Portland, where I watched cars apply physics.

Small cars, skinny cars, cars which cost more than my mortgage. These cars ranged from a ton to more, and the color scheme was decidedly conservative: only a couple of red ones of the bunch. At alternate half-hours they raced around the Portland International Raceway, which is not the swell little oval you imagine most racetracks to be. So the knowledge that your boyfriend is hurtling himself at speeds that even yours truly cringes at around said non-oval track, shifting left and right, behind, in front, and in general in the vicinity of other drivers who confuse their paycheck with their driving ability.

I had the opportunity to watch a bunch of said cars whip around the wider of two curves, and watched as some nailed it and some were clearly braking too soon or too late. I watched as drivers got better with instruction, and worse with attitude. I watched as they served diet pepsi and oreos.

A racing day done, we went into town for dinner. Jakes, the ol' reliable, delivered and we proceeded to play our "who is whom" game; the patrons were kinda vanilla. There was one gal who was pretty and charming and darned if we had a hard time finding anything negative to say! I may have blouse envy. (NB: the Doc Marten's store did not, in fact, have my kickass grey ones that I really really really really want. Sigh).

The next time we go down we needs must stay another day.

This was definitely in the top 3 of my all time favorite Vegas trips, and if you consider that, since turning 21, I've averaged 3 trips a year, that's saying something.
(I'm 34, so 34-21=13 years x 3 trips = 39 trips)**. I maintain that it's largely the company that makes a trip.

We landed in Vegas on Friday afternoon, grabbed a cab and created our Vegas Indian Names. CC was "Runs with Scissors", Cyn was "Plays Well with Others", T was "A Pleasure to Have In Class", and I was "Eats Paste". (I chose it). Alixito joined us later and became "Shows Panties", Ali was "Very Energetic", and Christine was "Very Creative". And so the adventure began.
At 7pm we found ourselves at Firefly Tapas, which was most excellent, and naturally what with the mojitos and malbec pouring freely came into a game of "truth or dare" without the "dare"... Adventures In Overshare, indeed. Post tapas we went to LAX (formerly RA) at the Luxor, whose decor has not changed since 1985 (there's something comforting about that in Las Vegas), and waited in line.

Where we met Gerald.

Gerald works for the History Channel in LA piecing together archaeological specials. Gerald is about six feet tall and has blue eyes and slightly longish hair and was a pleasure to be around. Gerald got one of us in to LAX without a cover (OMG $20 cover what gives???) and then proceeded to buy us a round in honor of CC's upcoming Nupping. Well, actually he handed me a $100 bill and asked me, since I was headed to the bar before him, to get "whatever my friends wanted" and a Maker's Mark for him. I had 7 friends with me. We very much liked Gerald. Gerald was in town for a friends' wedding at 4pm the next day (including Elvis) and couldn't sleep and was very glad to have some non-Barbie thinking company. Gerald very much liked us.

Drinks achieved, we made a little aerie closeish to the DJ's and proceeded to do that slight swaying bounce one does in dance clubs when you can't actually dance because people are feeling your ass either purposefully or inadvertently. Sardines and pickles have more room than the bodies in that club (tastefully appointed with red velvet walls and lots of candles and pretty people). After about an hour we hit our limit of everything (except Gerald, who was still cool) and gracefully (if not forcefully) exited LAX. Gerald followed a bit and then we split into groups... those continuing the party (post 2am) and those heading in (it was 2am, yo!). Yours truly is an old broad and elected to get some sleep. Others who shall rename nameless showed up in their rooms at 8am and 11am the next morning (oh, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!)

Saturday morning found us blissfully un-hungover (well, most of us) and at the spa where a gal named Megan did all kinds of wonderful things to me with massage oil (no, just massage) and I got an eye brightening treatment which was a challenge ("Now once I apply the eye masque you can't open your eyes for 5 minutes" -- never in my life did I want to open my eyes more.) Refreshed, relaxed, and bright, we packed up and headed to the Forum Shops. CC and I walked and enjoyed the Vegas sun, collected Hooker Trading Cards for McGuyver and I got The Rack complemented twice (which is always nice). Look, there isn't much I can do to hide it and it was 90 plus degrees out, and besides I outmass and outclass most of the choadlies who do more than oogle. If you're gonna say something about it, as long as you say something nice, I'll let you live.

The Forum Shops are probably my favorite place to get my girlie on, because I don't normally, and where else can you go to Jimmy Choo and Ferragamo and Kate Spade and (my personal favorite) the Huge Victorias' Secret Store. Three times the size of a 'normal' one and crammed with all things girlie, we meandered amongst bras that ranged from 0.002 oz of fabric to ones that probably came with a hydraulic lift built-in given the size and structure. There was a sale and a woman with way too much makeup and not enough clothing asked if I wanted to apply for an Angels card because if I did I could buy more underwear with hydraulic lifts and probably ceramic brakes (for the panties, I suppose) and so I did and scored a tote bag emblazoned with the VSC logo and touched off in hot pink patent leather. It will match my Docs I'm sure. I also went to the Lucky Jeans store and purchased my Most Expensive Pair of Jeans Ever but they made my ass look like Salma Hyek's, not Roseann Barr's, so they're well worth it.

Then it was off to the Star Trek Adventure, where Alixito, Cyn, CC and myself split appetizers and a Warp Core Breach. Well, Alixito and Cyn went back to the hotel a bit early so 4 girls split 1/2 of a Breach and 2 girls split the last 1/2. I do not recommend going on the rides right afterwards ('course, we did) and I do recommend if you have time to do the full-on experience (we didn't have time). Back to the hotel to get tarted up a bit for dinner at Benihana and then the "Topless Review" (when did they stop calling them "Tittie Shows"?) Bite at the Stratosphere. I'm still not sure what to make of it. It was cheesy like a porn but had some ballet and jazz moments, some aerial acrobats (the sort that play with long wisps of fabric and twine themself about it in various ways and then drop and climb to the music) and some weird guy with cool contacts and long frizzy hair. Let's put it this way: I'm glad I went, I got my money's worth, and I will probably go to one again (just not that one).

By then it was nearly midnight and this little turnip was tired, and cranky, and my feet hurt from my Hoochie Mama shoes, so I packed in (again, earlier of the bunch) for the night (I literally packed first).

This was good as somehow Alixito and I blew through the alarm and woke up with about 20 minutes to finish packing, shower, get ready, check out, and meet for coffee.

And so here I sit, in 24A, Flight 601, heading home. I have acquired things for Me and things for GH and things for the SC and I gambled naught but $7, and can honestly say that although I am poorer in the pocket I have quite a bit (in respect to experience and product) to show for it.

My next trip there is in December (work, and then possibly play)... Viva Las Vegas!

**So this got me thinking about which hotels I've stayed at and how often. If memory serves, I have stayed at the Golden Nugget three times, the Luxor at least 8 (X and I used to drive out from San Diego on a regularish basis), the Excalibur (twice), Circus Circus, the Tropicana, the MGM, the Mirage (twice), Treasure Island (twice), the Riviera, the Hilton (4 times), the NYNY (twice), the Flamingo Hilton (once), the La Quinta, the Embassy Suites (twice), the Travelodge (worst ever), the Hard Rock, the Monte Carlo (twice), and the Aladdin (once). I think I'm missing a few occasions, but of all places Las Vegas is the most likely candidate for that sort of amnesia.

Yesterday I didn't work but somehow had way too much to do. I got to sleep in... as much as my body would let me (about 8am) and then proceeded to launder, pack, make breakfast, check in with work, shower, change, futz with some papers, grab the male person and head off to Fred Myer.
Where I got a new purse.
I really didn't intend to -- I'm trying to be good -- but as the other purse I was using was too "I went on vacation in Mexico and all I brought back was this purse" (complete with fringe) it was time to bite the bullet and get something a little more versatile. Yes, standard black.
GH and I quested for the perfect laundry basket, which I'm told must have some sort of an indentation for hips. Why he needs a laundry basket with indentation is beyond me, as the man has no hips, but nevertheless the quest took us to Fred Myer and there it failed, for the Myer had only 3 or 4 baskets none of which had indentation.
Then I got to reorganize his pantry, fridge, and freezer, and completely make him lose track of everything. There's a "system", to be sure, but it's intuitive to me so we had to do some negotiated restructuring. My fears for his epicurial health continue while I'm gone, as the man owns more cans of French Onion soup than can possibly be healthy.
Yes, gone.
I am currently on a plane.
The plane is going to Vegas. I sit in seat 25F, which is next to 25D (mercifully 25E seems to not have made it to their flight). 25D is occupied by Cyn, 25C is occupied by CC, 25B must be lost with 25E, and 25A is occupied by Teri. In short, we have a whole row to ourselves. We were chided by the flight attendant dude before we even took off, which bodes well, I think.
Speaking of which, I really really really really hate flying. I had a couple of mimosas with CC at breakfast and they don't seem to have done much, because I did that little nervous wreck trail of thought I do at every takeoff (and landing, and bump of turbulence): Ok, I have enough insurance to pay off the mortgage, my student loan, the SC's tuition for MIT, and his living expenses plus a little extra for the next 20 years. His father is a good guy and my will will make sure he gets what he needs and my family has extended contact. Sure, I won't have finished the kilt for CC and McGuyv's wedding but the'll be able to rent one at worst and since the extra fabric is at home they can get another one made. Q will take the dogs so I know they're good. Work will just have to deal and they will be aghast when they see how I code stuff. I really wish I had cleaned less and played more.
Naturally, this gets amended depending on whether or not the kilt is with me (it is), the SC is with me (he isn't), work is stressing me (always), and if Q is watching the dogs already (he is). It's stupid, I know, especially in view of how many times I get on a plane in a given year and the relative odds of something untoward happening. Like any statistician, though, I can make figures lie and liars figure, so I don't really truck with that whole "you're more likely to get into an auto accident than a plane wreck" school of thought. Bottom line, your ticket punches you when the time comes and there's not much choice.
Which is a very depressing state of mind to be going on a 'chette party.
However, I did prefunk last night with Alixito and Velly Good Looking (who sashays beautifully, by the bye) at The Local Vine. Good wine, good food, good company, and fascinating conversation. Even with a zoology degree I learned new things after listening to VGL. The setting was ripe for the "Who Are They/What Do They Do" game that GH and I like to play but most unfortunately (or fortunately?) the current company kept conversation crackin' (don'tcha love alliteration?) without it. NB: I still have horrible gaydar, and the squash soup/cheese sandwich entree is filling and yummy. Also, Two Hands wine :) Yum!
PS - Target doesn't seem to have laundry baskets with indentations either, anyone have a bead on those?
PPS - I really really need to dye my hair because the grey one I plucked out today was at least 6" long (real inches, not female engineer inches). Disturbing.
P(3)S - Good luck to Greenie and Greenie's husband as Kermit is due to arrive today! I still say Kermit is the name of an 8th Century Persian warrior and I suspect someone can help me prove it!

I shouldn't have bet on the weather as yesterday it rained and rained and rained. 26 each 5 year olds plus 2 teachers plus assorted parentage plus one Woodland Park Zoo = damp goodness had by all. We ate in front of the monkeys, which was only a little odd.

Last night we celebrated P-Ade's bday at my house, complete with 28 candles on a brownie ('twas a big brownie). At any minute the fire alarm was going to go off in my house. The SC chided me for calling P-Ade old, but then agreed that he was much older than me (for the record, I'm 34 and P-Ade is 28, so I am all for him appearing older than me). That took away like 50 ma'ams right there. I think I'll go roll a 20 sided dice as a multiplier, even.

And as of today I'm just wagering things all over the place. I have a private bet with P-Ade, which is one of those win-win things because either way we're going out, and then I have a bet again with A and B and now K over... First Solar, Inc. (FSLR). It's two stage, $20 for end of June and $20 for end of July:

• A: betting July only, says end of July it will be between $230 and 240
• B: betting end of June $230.01-$240.01, end of July $210-220
• K: (K picked the stock and he's a bear) betting end of June $290, end of July $319
• and the Divine Divorcee, Minor Diety in Training picked $220-230 end of June, $190-200 end of July.

I am clearly the most bearish and intend to be, in the news FSLR's top chiefs have been selling off their shares like nobody's business. I don't care how good the pre-IPO was, you don't sell if you have any sort of confidence. I actually think it will be less than my figures. But, worst case scenario I'm out $40, best I'm up $120.

With that sort of wager on the table I think I shall keep my blackjack time in Vegas this weekend to a minimum (yes, V-land: CC is having her 'chette party and I am going to make sure the bride returns from Vegas. Tomorrow I pack my hoochie mama sandals and the corset.)

Let the games begin...

On my table (the lounge-table, not to be confused with the coffee, end, side, dinner, or desk tables) there was a "Dallas is awesome" type magazine with a very shiny picture of Jessica Simpson talking about how Dallas has its own color of blonde.

Boy howdy.

Actually, I shouldn't say that. I went to the Nasher Art Museum and saw Picassos, I stayed in the same hotel Queen Elizabeth II stayed in, there were many tall buildings with presumably many amenities. I had a lovely time showing off my brains in front of nearly 600 people. So yay for me.

But I am so very done with Dallas. I am home now, after a slight respite in Cap Hill, I am home with my mommy (who was dogsitting) and the SC. I have unpacked the kilt (pleats finished), set up laundry, showered, changed into comfies, and did my required bitching and moaning.

Travelling for work is not like travelling for fun -- I missed my home, my boy, my dogs, my man, my friends. I had my every base need accounted for except human company, and I wasn't willing to settle for the sort of interim company that appears (usually alcohol induced) at these sorts of things.

I drank too much last night, for me. In comparison with those around me, though, I was practically white ribbon -- whilst I packed it in and headed to my room at 11ish and proceeded to drunk dial a bit, some of my fellow corporate types stayed in the bar until 3am. This is not unusual but some of my fellow PRESENTERS were in that bar until then as well, and that takes some doing. I thankfully suffered no hangover this morning (it was more of a circumstances than quantity thing -- white wine + very little dinner + hot and humid + social pressure = fast acting tipsiness) but was a Very Tired Corporate Girl.

I still managed to present rather well (I thought) -- some humor, some statistics, that sort of thing. I had people asking me how to bribe my team and I suggested small unmarked bills in brown paper sacks. Oh, and coffee.

I'm now rummaging through tickets for work and watching a movie, the kilt awaits once that is done. I really don't like business travel -- enforced fun (such as last night) rarely ends well -- but at least I have tonight to myself.

Oh, and I made another bet with A -- apparently some sort of alternative fuel company -- specifics TBD. Can't buck tradition.

Here I sit in room 1803 of the Adolphus Hotel in Dallas, Texas. It is quite easily 600 square feet of old furniture (nice old furniture) and amenities I will probably not use (e.g., a real dining table... not to be confused with the lounge-area table... or the coffee table... or the desk).

It has been quite the journey.

First, my flight took off in a timely fashion, but when we got close to Dallas, thunderstorms had apparently closed down the airport. When you are in a very large plane with very many people and only one hour’s worth of reserve fuel, this is bad. They rerouted us to San Antonio.

Where, as we deplaned, they told us they had no idea how long it would be. Thank the everything that I had carried on my bags.

G was there, he had a corporate credit card, and said he had one more spot in the car he was renting. I said “dibs” and off we went – like right then. Four and a half hours later we arrived in Dallas.

It was a lovely little drive, peppered with occasional greenery and Hooters-esque food establishments. We stopped once for food and once for more urgent matters but in all I can safely say the following:

• The 35 N and NE is a lovely highway
• The new homes in that area start “from the low 90’s” – I thought this was a typo
• There is more greenery than you would expect
• Texas is very flat
• When it rains, it pours, and you can't see the road

By 8pm, me, my technology hardware, my clothes, and the kilt arrived at the hotel, where all but me were dumped in the room and off I went to a nice lil' mexican restaurant with my newfound comrades. I ate something wonderful (beef enchiladas, I think) and had a margarita that was 90% alcohol and 10% sugar. (We ditched the Gilly's event -- complete with mechanical bull -- and I'm satisfied with that).

The gym at the Adolphus has 2 elliptical machines, both of which were occupied at 6am (dammit) so my ass was on the stair-stepper.  The rest of today has been meetings, presentations, breakout sessions, and me skipping one of those to play with the kilt and take a break from the assorted 500 people who are here. They're all nice... but it's a bit much. And besides, I'll be going to Enforced Fun with them all tonight to an art museum. So... yeah, yay for breaks. 

I have two very conflicting passions: travel and home.

First, let me say that I love travel. I heart travel, travel hearts me. It is a love that has spoken its name over and over. I am happily travel's bitch. I work for a very large travel company, I travel for work and for fun (and despite my endless bemoaning it I may actually enjoy travelling to Dallas for work). I coordinate travel for friends for trips that I do and do not go on, and that has nothing to do with my job but moreover my love for travel.

Second, I love my home. I grew up in it, bought it from the 'rents, knocked out a few walls and replaced some bits. It's a late 60's rambler on a half-acre and completely does not fit in with the McMansionary around it (and I am very ok with that). I am in the process of messing with the landscaping and intend to add an herb farm and some basics (tomatos, onions, garlic, squash) to the south side of the house. My garage is bigger than GH's. I heart my house, and my house hearts me.

So it is weird to want to leave it so often. Seriously, I invite you to inspect the last couple of years with me, as we look at how I've travelled post divorce:

• Oct 05 - X moves out
• Nov 05 - Wine Country
• Dec 05 - Vegas
• Jan 06 - Orcas
• Feb 06 - Portland
• Apr 06 - Cozumel
• May 06 - Vegas, Dallas (ok, for work, but still)
• Jun 06 - Vancouver
• Jul 06 - Vancouver
• Aug 06 - Vancouver
• Sep 06 - oh my, i didnt' go anywhere!
• Oct 06 - wow, same here 
• Nov 06 - La Paz
• Dec 06 - Vegas
• Jan 07 - Disneyland
• Feb 07 - didn't go anywhere here either 
• Mar 07 - nope, nada
• Apr 07 - Vancouver
• May 07 - California
• Jun 07- nothin 
• Jul 07- Portland
• Aug 07- Hawaii
• Sep 07 - nothin 
• Oct 07 - Cabo, to which I am never ever ever going again
• Nov 07 - Victoria
• Dec 07 - Disneyland, Vegas
• Jan 08 - Vegas
• Feb 08 - Manhattan 
• Mar 08 - Whistler, Astoria
• Apr 08 - Whidbey
• May 08 - Dallas 
• Jun 08 - Vegas, Portland
• Nov 08 -  La Paz
• Dec 08 - Disneyland, and probably Vegas (work)

What brought all of this introspection on is I have an urge to raise chickens. No I'm not joking. The SC and I went over to StidBomb's friends' house for dinner where we got to see her 3 little new chicks, and they are *soo freaking cute!*. And the mama hen was cute. Cuteness abound! And.. another project for me to adopt! Which means... if I travel I can't simply rely on a dogsitter. I need dogsitters with chicken coop capabilities.

But it looks like so much fun....

Or get arthritis. These are places I'll go to while I'm still working, while I still have to get dogsitting, and most likely before I go and get "the girls" worked on (I'm telling you, once they flunk the pencil test I'm off to see my plastic surgeon).

The list is by no means complete. Since I think I've already assuaged my other list, this list needs to get made and approached:

• The Ice Hotel (either the Canada one or the one in Europe).
• The underwater restaurant in the Maldives (heck the Maldives in general).
• DC-- I would like to see all of those places you see in the movies. Like my San Francisco trip of last year -- it will be the satisfaction of merger of reality vs. movie imaginings.
• The Yorkshire Dales -- same reason.
• Mendoza. My dad is 68 this year, he just went for the first time. He was *born in Buenos Aires*. He lived there until 24!
• Carmel/Monterey and the Monterey Bay Aquarium
• Mount Rushmore
• A dig in Dakota: just camping out and working on one for one or two days -- even as a dustmonkey -- would be cool
• New Orleans -- I kick myself as I hadn't been there before Katrina
• Savannah -- Read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and then see the movie. If you still have questions, get back to me

I'm thinking of something as ambitious as making this an enforced fun thing, once per year. Some are obviously easier (read: low budget, and/or shorter trip) than others (e.g., Mt. Rushmore, Carmel, Savannah vs Yorkshire, Maldives, and Lapland).

Next year, though. This year I have left Portland and California and Vegas and Mexico. And a deck.

Saturday morning found me at the Whole Foods in Bellevue acquiring overpriced coffee and evaluating a Lotus. The car, not the insect. Specifically a shiny red one.

Said Lotus joined a group of Porsches to Bainbridge Island, where they congregated with other Porsches whose owners wanted to learn more about brakes, shocks, alignment, tires, and turbo kits. I wasn't the only gal there but I was one of only two that attended each clinic, and I didn't even have the excuse of owning a Porsche. I left with a serious itch to play on my own car, which I may scratch this coming weekend, weather permitting.

We left the cars and headed for Whidbey Islands' Greenbank Farms, where we attended the last session of the 5th Annual Burning Word festival. We listenened to a poet who looked for all the world like Kathy Bates and had a couple of succinct poems about love. After her came Lionel, who looks like your old English Lit professor (or mine). Lionel had some good stuff. Here's where you can find Lionel. After Lionel came a Miami-Cuban poet, who said all of his stuff in fluid spanish and then it was translated by someone else. After HIM came Charlie Potts. Charlie rocked.

And then, SHE came. SHE was one of the biggies -- the headliner -- and SHE was Bizzare. Two poems in (the second one being about Manatees -- here it is, imagine it read with rising and lowering fervour and you're almost there) -- I looked at GH and he looked at me and we were trying our damndest not to laugh. "Save it for the car", I said, because I knew if either he or I said anything we would absolutely shit ourselves. There were a few more, but it stands to reason that neither GH or I should be able hear the word Manatee without snorting.

Off to StidBomb Farms, where we hooked up with StidBomb herself for dinner and late-night watching of two fires (one small, intentional, and ours; one large, unintentional, across the sound, and we called 911). StidBomb lives in a 2-room cabin that is almost finished but has no plumbing, but a gorgeous view of the sound. I slept the best I have in weeks at her place, and can't wait to go back and "help" teach her to cook. (Although I don't know what she's talking about there, because she did great at dinner).

This morning I discovered I lost my wallett somewhere between the market and StidBomb's, but that's ok. Looks like whomever (?) has it isn't using anything, so I get a new drivers license and bank photo, I suppose. I literally made myself sick worrying over it and by the time logic had kicked in, the stomach hadn't got that message. 

It is important to note that in spite of this, I had a very wonderful weekend. I didn't check email but once, and I enjoyed myself tremendously.