Vegas, Baby!

Everyone survived the first parental trip without the munchkin. Momma and Daddy didn't ruin a vacation by worrying and guilt-tripping. We kept our calls to two a day and half the time Drew didn't want to talk to us (he's out of the phone phase, apparently). Drew was perfectly happy to be hanging out with Gramma and Grampa instead of Momma and Daddy. He did miss us, but he never got too bent out of shape about it. And Gramma and Grampa had a blast with Drew, though they were still very happy to hand him back to us upon our return.

As for Vegas itself, it was a great trip. We even learned a few lessons:

1. Generic less drowsy dramamine is not nearly as less drowsy as the real thing. Thus I had to take a nap just two hours into our time in Vegas.

2. Spending $12 or $13 on a drink is well worth it, apparently. I've never had a drink so well mixed. In fact, I've got a new favorite drink. It's called the Vixen: Glenlivet 12, vermouth, sweet & sour, and honey. Yummy.

3. Apparently the Venetian took seriously their theme and made the hotel float on pretension. At least, that's the vibe we got at the restaurant we selected for dinner. It takes a decent sized pair to bill a restaurant as fine dining and then try to cram seating for 80 into a room barely bigger than our living room and kitchen combined. It's also remarkably crass to interpret a reservation for "as secluded a table as possible" into "here's a seat less than a foot away from another occupied table when there's only three other couples in the entire albeit cramped room." I ordered the cheapest meal on the menu. We ordered only two glasses of wine, and we declined desert. The service was great and the food was good, so we didn't stiff on the tip. But we certainly won't be recommending Valentino's to anyone. Not that they care as we and our circle are most decidedly too middle class for that establishment, apparently.

4. On the other hand, the Luxor seems designed for folks more from our walk of life who want to live it up a bit and have budgeted their vacation accordingly. Mark and I can't stop talking about the fabulous experience we had at Fusia. Sure, a meal with appetizers, entrees, desert, and drinks will set you back at least $200, but man is it worth it. Everything was delicious. The service was superb. The manager was making the rounds and chatting with everyone eating there. Sure, we had people sitting all around us, but this place had maximized their space and there was plenty of room to feel like we weren't sitting on top of our neighbors. If you are in the mood for some high quality food the next time you're in Vegas, go to Fusia. The only downside this place has is that it's closed Wednesdays and Thursdays.

5. Drew's birthdate (the 4th) is our luckiest number at the roulette table. Paid off three times, including once when I had on a whim told Mark to put a second chip on it.

6. Slots aren't nearly as much fun as I used to think. And I'm just not all that into the table games either. Guess I'll be gravitating more toward the shows on our future trips. My age. It shows.

7. The casinos are in the timeshare business. We were accosted several times in several casinos by folks wanting to give away gambling money and discounted show tickets if you'd just take a look-see at this lesser known property of theirs on the south end of the strip. These folks were awful. Anyone they saw that looked to be a married couple over 21 was a target. It got so bad that Mark and I couldn't walk around holding hands or even just side by side in certain areas.

So, a great trip, no trauma to be seen on the part of either the 'rents or the kid, and tips for future such trips. When can we do it again? :)

Retreat for Advancement

As I mentioned in my previous post, I went on a writing retreat this weekend. This was different from my retreat in March in that I went with about a dozen of my writer pals from my RWA chapter. We trekked down to Bisbee, a beautiful little tourist town leftover from the mining boom of the late 1800s. The drive down was gorgeous--maybe one day Arizona will cease to amaze me in the many different ways it can be beautiful, but I'm not sure I want that day to come any time soon.

(Driving aside: For a stretch of about twenty miles, lots of tarantulas were trying to cross the road to varying degrees of success. I wasn't quite sure what manner of creepy-crawly it was I saw crawling its way across the pavement until Sunday on the joureny back home. Then the sun happened to strike the nasty spider just right as I came up on it. I clippled one of the icky things with a wheel and sent it thunking up into the car's undercarriage. Ah, desert driving.)

We broke up into groups for chunks of time on Saturday to brainstorm our books in whatever fashion the groups chose. My group, thankfully, was less about novel structure (in terms of acts and turning points and beats and scenes and such) and more about characters and the best conflict we could create to force the most dramatic arc. It was exactly what I needed to confirm I had a good revised outline for PPR and to sketch out the central premise and characters of Books 2 and 3 in the PPR universe. That's right, dear blog readers, I actually have more of a vague outline for two novels than I've ever had before--and I haven't written a single word of draft for either story yet. I don't know if this means my overall process is adjusting or if this set of stories is lending itself better to pre-planned writing than my others. I guess I'll find out if PPR sells next year.

It was a fabulous weekend that revitalized my writing plans for PPR and also gave me ample time to relax and revel in a whole boatload of extended adult conversation about all manner of things. Plus I got to know my fellow chapter members better and had a blast brainstorming other stories besides mine. I hope those books sell as well, because it would be fun to read elements that unfolded right before my eyes this weekend.

Sigh. I love this state, I adore my chapter (both the members and its continual focus on advancing our writing skills and careers), and I can't wait to see where all the ideas I fleshed out this weekend take me over the course of the next year or two. Yup. Life is good, and that's how you know it was a very successful retreat.

A Collection of Random Tidbits from Our Trip

Rather than a rambling narrative of "first we did this, then we did that" or a forced thread that might twist the events of our trip into fiction for the sake of maintaining said thread, I figured I'd just provide a list of some of the notable occurances from our trip to Canyon de Chelly this weekend.

• Fossilized dinosaur mud prints reduced the men in my family to gleeful jibberings and scamperings. While I shared in the general sense of coolness, I was more happy to find a sodalite necklace. Yes, la, I am so fem. (Less cool about that brief stop was the tour guide singling me out when I was separated from Mark to hit me up for more "tip" money after Mark had already paid.)



• An unmarked, way off-road, severe minor canyon makes a perfect spot for lunch, once you factor out the gale-force winds that took both Drew's hat and mine. In both cases, the hats tumbled and glided and snagged almost miraculously in the last possible spot Mark could shimmy down and reach. Both hats bore Notre Dame logos. Coincidence?



• Both the Navajo and Hopi reservations featured gorgeous scenery and a propensity towards flashing electric billboards by any building of significance.



• Drew learned to fear ants after sitting on a rock swarming with them. I think he only got bit once or twice before we came to the rescue, but quite a few managed to crawl all over his legs at once, and Drew didn't seem to care for the sensation.



• I have searched grocery stores high and low for another bag of the new mint crisp M&Ms after sampling my first taste in the wave of promotion for the new Indy movie. My searches were all in vain until we walked into the Bashas in Chinle, AZ. I was speechless with delight. I managed to let the bag last until we got home, but I finished it Monday. Mint and chocolate. Mmmmmm....



• We hiked the sole free route down to the base of Canyon de Chelly to get a close look at one set of ruins. The trek was 2.5 to 3 miles (there was a conflict in the signage) and covered a change in elevation of 600ft. In high 80s, low 90s with no cloud-cover to be seen. Drew blazed the trail on the descent, got us down that 600ft drop (over about 3/4s of a mile, mostly in switchbacks one on top of another) in less than thirty minutes. He requested Daddy carry him back up to the top of the trail afterwards, and Momma led the way up, this time clocking in at 40 minutes. Go team us!



• On a related note, most folks who passed me on their way down took one look at me and said, "No need to say anything. I can tell it's going to be harder on the way up." Curse my fair skin and body chemistry that flushes my face to tomato read at the least provocation!



• The best Mexican food I have tasted can be found just off Hwy 60 in Show Low, high up in the eastern mountains of AZ. They also boasted the best margaritas in the state, but we had to drive back home yet and thought it best not to imbibe. Mark and I will have to make a weekend getaway up there for an anniversary celebration and test this restaurant's claim.



• We kept current on the NBA Finals while on our drip thanks to a billboard at a Church's Chinle. The restaurant owners were clearly Celtics fans.

I'll post more if my brain shakes anything else loose. It was a great trip, full of amazing views and quirky geology and fascinating history. I love me my adopted home state.

Back In Time for a Milestone

Yesterday was my last day of answering the question "How old are you?" with something that began with twenty. I am actually quite happy to be rolling the odometer into the thirties. It's adding distance to the silliness of my youth in a concrete fashion. I probably won't think in those terms once the big four-oh draws near, of course, but three-oh tain't nearly so big or imposing. It's a bit of a relief, a marker to many that I'm a real, honest-to-goodness, no foolin' adult.

I added to the notoriety of the day by acknowledging my body is indeed another year older: I bought an ergonomic mouse, wrist pad, and medicine-ball-as-desk-chair. All this because, at the tender age of 30, my body likes to pretend it's 50. Also, just to further drive in the point that I am now a serious adult, we puttered around the big RV dealership this afternoon, edumacatin' ourselves on costs, types, features, financing, engines, etc. Not that we're anywhere near ready or able to buy one, but it's part of our once Drew's out of the nest/retirement plans, so it don't hurt to learn up as early as possible.

And, as has happened at least once before but I think maybe twice, I share my birthday with Father's Day, which made for some fun passing the buck of who got to sleep in this morning between me and Mark. And, because we're just that sweet, we were arguing not about wanting it for our own self, but about letting the other have it. (We compromised: Mark slept in until just after 8, then got up to relieve me so I could nap until just after 9.)

So, now I am a thirtysomething. Most of the twenties were fun, and I was even able to get mostly over myself before they ended. The decade started with me in college, wondering just how in the heck my mother could have possibly gotten married as young as I felt. The decade ended with me in a completely different career track than I had anticipated, married with a toddler, and living in our own home. My last day as a twentysomething was spent driving back from Canyon de Chelly (featuring the ruins of an ancient civilization), taking the long way through Arizona's east central high plains and mountains, twisting and turning my way down the elevation to get back home, drinking in the amazing scenery of this beautiful state that claimed me at the age of 18 and waited patiently for ten years until I was able to return for good.

Not a bad way to end what society considers the last cusp of my youth.

Quick Update

I managed to write 1,074 words today during my usual work hours. I won't get anymore done tonight as we have to clean the house a bit and pack up for going camping until Sunday afternoon. Of course, the words I wrote today finished half of a new chapter I realized I needed to add, so I still need to write 7.5 chapters to get to the end of the draft. July 7 is still very feasible to finish, though.

We're heading out to Canyon de Chelly tomorrow morning, with various stops along the way. The weather's a tad cooler up there, so we'll come back refreshed and ready for another round of 100+ heat.

Reprieve? Or Foil?

A lovely storm system blew it's way in yesterday and today, dropping temps into the 60s and 50s and making for an absolutely glorious cool for us folks in the Valley of the Sun in late May. But for those Phoenicians looking to hike, camp, boat, or otherwise be outdoorsy this weekend, there's the problem of a nasty Friday and Saturday (and potentially Sunday) in the forecast. Monday should be perfect, just in time for people to pack back up and head home.

There's even a snow advisory in effect up around Flagstaff, which means the folks heading up to the Grand Canyon are in for something really different. I wouldn't be surprised if Mt Lemmon, the highest peak in Tucson's Catalina mountains and a very popular Memorial Weekend getaway spot, got a decent dusting of the white stuff. Same with the Chiracahuas and the eastern higher elevations. Lake Havasu might have escaped the worst of the weather, though, but it's going to be insanely crowded regardless.

My big plans for the weekend? Saturday I'm going down to Tucson for my RWA meeting, after which I shall congregate with some of the RWAers at a nearby Barnes & Noble for a gabfest. Sunday evening, Mark and I have booked my mom to baby-sit Drew after he's down for the night so we can catch a late showing of Indiana Jones. Any other time not accounted for above will be split between family time and writing time. I'm hoping to get some more good words for THUMB (I've made progress to the tune of 3500 words that I haven't reported) and do a read-through of the new and improved PPR (for which I wrote about 3000 words earlier this week to fix a broken sequence in the previous draft).

Oh, and I'm going to have the windows open wide each night and bask in the cool weather during the day as much as possible. Maybe we'll go for a family stroll around the mini-lakes in our development, something I wouldn't have thought we could get away with this late in May. I'm feeling a bit spoiled with this delay in the heat's onslaughtonset. It might make me a wee bit cranky come mid-July.

The Har' Down

Otherwise known as the Grand Canyon. ("Har' Down" is Drewbie-speak for a big decline, essentially.) It was a great trip, though a bit chillier than we were expecting. The first night, the temperature dropped down to 29 deg F. And we were in a summer tent. Yipes! I learned how to sleep with a blanket over my head, something I never thought possible as it usually triggers my very mild claustrophobia. I guess my brain decided it was better to risk feeling suffocated and trapped over freezing my nose off.

The trip up was nice, though uneventful. We popped into Red Mountain off of Highway 180 between Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon so we could picnic out of the trunk and hike a very small ways toward the mountain itself. This site might feature prominently in the sequel to THUMB that's kicking around in the back of my head, so I snapped a few good pictures. One of these trips up to the GC, we'll actually hike the full route.

We hit our only snag (other than how wickedly cold it was) when we tried to pitch the tent. It's a big, complicated structure that didn't assemble quite as easily as the test run Mark and I did in the house after we bought it. So we were already a bit testy by the time it came to stake the thing. And nothing would stake. Mark was ready to keep wailing on a couple of stakes when I happen to look over and see a slab of exposed rock on the floor of our campsite. "Uh, Mark, I'm thinking that's not going to work." Note to self: do not try to pitch a tent on bedrock. We rigged the thing to stay upright with a bunch of large rocks in strategic corners of the tent. And it held, though it was rougher on the tent's interior than we would've liked for its first use.

We trekked out on the West Rim drive as far as we could go. They're in the process of shutting that entire side of the park down until November to revamp the road and route. Can't blame 'em as the ride was so rough on the patch of road still open that we thought the shuttle was going to loose an axle or something.

The Canyon itself...well, words are never quite enough, and pictures suck most of the vastness and complexity right out of it. Suffice to say, I never get tired of it and always find new things each trip.

Drew scared about half of the people who saw him gallavanting around the rim despite the tether and vigilance of whichever parental unit held the leash. At one point, I stayed up at the point while the rest of the party hiked down a bit to get to a different vantage point. As I watched the group climb back up toward me, I overheard a couple of people fretting over how even with the tether, they'd be too worried to let a little kid walk free at the canyon. I very good-naturedly fessed up that the kid was mine and shared how advance Drew is in all things kinesthetic. The ladies agreed he was destined to be a rock climber, then.

Our second day up, we drove through the East Rim and down Highway 89 back toward Flagstaff to check out the Little Colorado River Gorge and Sunset Crater/Wupatki National Parks. The Gorge was stunning. It had been seven years since Mark and I had seen it. And since it's on the Navajo reservation, there were a ton of booths with Native American crafts and jewelry. Mark picked up a couple of pieces for me as an early Mother's Day present. One was an awesome hematite and picture jasper choker, the other was a set with fired glass that looked like opal. I got a nice natural-wood inscribed pot for Mark as he's got a little collection going (not that we have it out at the moment; all of our knick-knacks are still packed away until the Drew Monster is old enough to know they are not toys). Mark's parents found a gorgeous vase in similar fashion for a dining table centerpiece.

By the time we got to Sunset Crater, it was clear that I neglected to put on any sunscreen and was feeling the pain, so I hung out in the car while the rest of the group wandered a lava field. I did 'screen and hat up for a quick trek to one of the ruins at Wupatki. It's quite amazing to see those structures and imagine what it must have been like to have lived there.

After surviving another cold night, we struck camp and drove the scenic route down to Sedona for a quick tour and lunch. It'd had been seven years since Mark and I had been there as well, and it was nice to see all of the beauty of the area even around the human presence.

It was a lovely trip full of stunning views and good company. Last year, Mark and I decided to make a trip up to the Canyon once a year, and this was a great occasion for the second year of that decision. Next year, we plan to go to one of the more western areas that are not in the park but on reservations. Eventually, when Drew is old enough and we are fit enough, we'll arrange to go to Havasu Falls, one of the most beautiful spots in the world, supposedly. It involves quite a hike to get there, though, so let the boot camp begin!

Interesting Things About My Trip

Man, I'm really into this "4 Things" meme. It an excuse to be remarkably lazy in the blogging department. Not to worry, I think I might try something new here soon and keep content fresh and entertaining daily. Ha. And I'll have more about my trip later as I still chew over the bits and pieces of insights I gleaned from it.

• My MRI was, in a word, "unremarkable" but for some minor disc degeneration, which is common due to such things as gravity. The prescription: loosen the hip muscles, strengthen the abs, and improve the posture. (I've since discovered other things in the progress of my physical therapy; more on this later.)
  


• A gathering of college-scene/struggling/indie/garage bands occurred in a lovely patio setting just a stone's throw away from my room at Hotel the First. Apparently, even supposed professionals are prone to singing very bad karaoke and shouting a lot just to hear their voices echo through the valley. I could sing along even though my patio door was shut and I had my own music on full blast. My word count for that night was only 561 words. I was less than amused.
  


• Driving back home on Sunday proved to be quite an experience. A chilly wind was howling through the valley by the Chiracahuas. By the time I got to Benson and realized I need to check my oil when I gassed up as the car was riding rough (dipstick was bone dry; fun), the wind had brought with it temps in the 40s or lower. Then I hit the Tucson valley and saw a whole wall of purple gray in the sky and knew I was in for some severe rain--only to encounter marble-sized hail and snow for a fifteen-minute stretch first. The interstate was even icy for a small bit. In Tucson. On March 16th.
  


• Absence makes the sight grow sharper. Being away from Drew for nearly three days let me get some distance so I could see just how much he's grown and developed his mad toddler skillz. It's interesting that I kept thinking of him as smaller and more dependent on me without realizing it. From what I've heard, I don't think this is going to change any time soon, but at least I'm aware of it.

Season's Greetings!

I've got a few precious hours to see about steamrolling my way through the rest of the PPR revisions before we have to pack and then it's on to my mother's for an early Christmas dinner. We'll get back, send Drewbie to bed, and Mark and I will snuggle up together to watch Love Actually, which has somehow become our holiday movie of choice. And tomorrow we're off to the airport in the morning to work our way to Buffalo. We'll get back just in time next weekend for me to do a year in review and throw together my goals for 2008. Oh, and write that intro letter and synopsis for PPR so I can send it off for mad praise and publication.

If you're traveling as well, be safe. If you're not, stay warm and cozy with those you love--or their hearts and voices, if you won't be with them. I hope 2007 finishes well for you and that you are ready to tackle another year with all your hopes and dreams.

Drewbie Goes to the Beach

We went camping on Lake Havasu this weekend. It's yet another beautiful area of the state. In fact, most of the drive from Casa Grande to the western border and along it was gorgeous. (The part that wasn't was a stretch of the Phoenix bypass route and a bit of I-10 getting out of Maricopa county. Come to think of it, a good chunk of I-10 treks through one of the ugliest bits of the state that I've seen. I-10 from the westernmost reach of Phoenix through to central Tucson is not the best way to see the beauty of the Arizona desert, though it does have its nice spots even there. Picacho Peak and the distant mountains of the central valley come to mind.)

Most of the state parks over along the Colorado River and Lake Havasu are focused on boating and water activities and are designed primarily with RVs in mind, but we did manage to find a nice shady secluded spot in one park to pitch our tent. The Colorado River valley had some very fascinating mountains around it, mostly on the California side. It was still fairly warm, barely dipping into the 50s at night, but it was just cool enough that we were able to get a fire going without feeling too ridiculous. The Drew Monster thought it was cool.

But the best part of the trip was watching Drewbie go nuts in the lake and along the shore. The water was cold but warm enough that he was able to play in it for about an hour, taking breaks on the warm sand in the sun to warm up for stretches. He went nuts with the little waves, splashing his hands in them, trying to figure them out. Then he would have fun digging up wet sand and carrying it over to where Momma was sitting to proudly deposit it in front of me.

Of course, nothing could quite top his discovery of the ducks in the lake and on the beach. He chased them all over the place, trying to herd them into the water if they weren't there, getting somewhat alarmed when they took off into the air.

We'd like to go back when the water is warmer so the Drew Monster can really go nuts in the lake and river, but it's quite clear that the warmer months will mean very large crowds and lots of boats and jetskis and such. We'd have to pick our travel time very carefully.

Still, it was a great trip and a real treat to watch El Boyo Diablo cavort on a beach. Pictures will likely be posted soon.

The Best State in the Union

We thoroughly enjoyed our camping trip in Chiracahua National Monument and the valley between the Chiracahua and the Dragoon Mountains. The drive was gorgeous, including the trek along I-10 south of Tucson, particularly when we entered the Texas Canyon and got to stare at gorgeous rock formations crowding around the highway and beyond. Exploring the Dragoons and Chiracahuas and the valley between was just amazing. The biggest cities in the valley are Willcox and Douglas, and labeling either "city" is a bit generous. Most of the valley is rural desert grasslands, small towns dotting the state roads the run the length and width. Douglas, the little we saw of it from the car while driving longer to let Drewbie extend his nap, has a fascinating historic downtown district that really needs to be restored. We saw the Mexican flag waving about a half mile or so in the distance, the closest Mark's even been to that country.

I don't think I stopped smiling the entire time we wandered through that valley. We even found the perfect writing retreat. Now's not a great time to be thinking of extravagant vacations just for writing, but Mark and I are already devising ways to set aside time and money so I can spend a weekend at the Sunglow Ranch and write my fool head off. It might take us a year, but we'll get me there. I think I'll probably set up some sort of savings so I can make that retreat an annual thing. Just wait till you see the pictures we took.

We're already planning another camping trip to the area as we didn't have enough time (and didn't know the grade of the hike) to explore Cochise Stronghold more than having a quick lunch in the campgrounds. Plus, Tombstone is just on the other side of the Dragoons and there's a number of other sites and trails in that valley, so we might need several more trips as the Drew Monster grows up and can handle more hiking.

Drew is already an excellent hiker and climber, though. Mark and I realized as we watched him scramble up rocks (while Mark remained close by and had a firm grip on the Elmo tether) that we need to get in better shape if we're going to keep up with El Boyo Diablo in the future. The Drew Monster mostly had a good time, although he had several hissy fits as if to remind us that, yes, he is indeed less than a month away from turning two. He was pretty excited to be in his own sleeping bag on his own mat this time instead of the travel crib we used before.

It was a great trip. So much to see and marvel at in that valley. Mark and I have now been to the southeast and northwest corners of the state, and explored a decent amount of the central corridor. And we know there's still a ton more we've missed. We're already planning another camping trip near Lake Havasu in a couple of months, and we've got another camping excursion over to Canyon de Chelly in the works for next spring. Arizona truly is the best state in the Union.

Music Linkage

I can't remember if I blogged about this before. So if you're reading this for a second time, my apologies. People often associated certain sensory inputs with certain experiences. Perhaps the smell of grapefruits reminds you of Easter breakfasts at your grandparents. Or the feel of grass on your feet brings back summer visits to a friend's house. For me, music is a big association gold mine. I hear just a bit of a song and remember emotions, trips, conversations, life situations, etc. Here's just a sampling.

Enya: Enya's got some great music. I find it incredibly soothing. Unfortunately, the two times I needed a lot of soothing, I listened to Enya non-stop. And now whenever I hear her music, I think of those two things in my life. I used to listen to her Shepherd Moons album while I studied organic chemistry my sophomore year of college. I can't hear that album without thinking about where electrons would flow in predicting the chemistry of a reaction. Or about analyzing NMR spectroscopy readouts. When I was teaching high school, I needed Mega Doses of comfort on my drive to work each morning. I listened to A Day Without Rain during every drive. I can't hear any song on that album without choking on all the panic and doubt and nervousness I experienced with that job. I was caught quite off guard when one of the songs came over the loudspeakers while shopping at PetSmart. Damned if I didn't tear up.

A-Ha: I mentioned before that I listened to "Take on Me" and "The Sun Always Shines on TV" while waiting to cross over the border into East Germany in 1988. Those two songs remind me of the yellow, gray, and brown tones that pervaded the former East Germany, as well as the tension of being in that country, as well as the pining for a very cute guard.

Portishead: Their album Dummy has a very sexy, jazzy, unique sound. My high school buddy Matt played it for the gang after prom but before the bowling extravaganza (I think that's what we did after prom). I never bought this album, it was given to me. It was a gift from the guy who gave me my Last Piggy-back Ride Ever. See, Matt and I had this joke about piggy-back rides ever since he offered to give me one at a picnic and I hopped on his back before he was ready, causing us both to fall and Matt to hurt his back. So everytime we encountered an exceptional unpleasant surface, I would joke about having Matt give me a piggy-back ride. Ha-ha, had to be there kind of inside joke. Well, I made the requisite joke to Matt while he, our friend Gary, and I were walking to a party. The road was rather gravely and icky, so I decided that was my cue to tease Matt about giving me a piggy-back ride. Matt and I both laughed, but Gary wasn't in on the joke and thought I really wanted a piggy-back ride. He offered to give me one. I tried to beg off, but he insisted. And shortly thereafter, we crashland into the nasty road. Gary, sweet guy that he is, tried to protect my knees in the fall and his face took the burden.

It's hard to forget showing up at a party with someone unrecognizable due to the amount of blood on his face and ask to use the bathroom.

We had to take him to the hospital. My Last Piggy-back Ride Ever left a scar on Gary's face so apparent that it became a "distinguishing feature" on his Air Force record in the event someone had to ID his body without benefit of dogtags or some other form of recognition. I hope this is not the only way in which I leave my mark on this world. Anyway, what does this have to do with Portishead? Gary, a couple months after The Incident, decided he didn't want his CD any more and gave it to me. It's a great CD, and I've formed a great many more memories listening to it since then, but it's got this strange black cloud hanging over it everytime I see it in my collection and pull it out to play it.

Elton John: I recorded the song "The One" off the radio way back in the early 90s and played it incessantly one summer when we took a little trip to the North Sea. I hear that song and think of cold water and naked sunbathers. And this really weird peanut sauce we had at the Holiday Inn we stayed at. I also worked first aid for a concert he did at Notre Dame in 1999. I was at a station with my roomie (and First Aid Team pres) Nikki that was just twenty feet or so away from the stage. I spent most of the night watching Elton drink Diet Coke and spit into the little Champange chilling stand his drinks sat in. But at one point early in the concert, we had a first aid emergency near our station that required us to run behind Elton's stage to assist somebody. My foot was inches away from accidentally unplugging the show. So just about every other Elton John song besides "The One" reminds me of the look on the sound guy's face as Nikki and I hopped around backstage to get to the emergency. Poor man.

Hootie & the Blowfish: My very first concert was this band at some outdoor pavilion in Wisconsin in 1996. I will always associated Hoote & the Blowfish with getting drenched at their concert and having the sound short out when lightning stuck the pavilion at the beginning of "Hannah Jane", my favorite song of theirs. I will also remember my six-year-old cousin singing "Ti-i-ime, why you punish me" before we left for the concert.

Dexy's Midnight Runners: "Come on Eileen" at every single college dance I went to. 'Nuff said.

Sting: "A Thousand Years" from his Brand New Day album will forever bring up memories of Melanie Rawn's Dragon Prince. I bought that book and that CD on the same day, went home and listened to the CD - which has a very desert, middle-eastern feel - and read the book - which takes place much of the time in a desert. It was a wonderful blend. Made for a great reading and listening experience.

Fleetwood Mac: Their Greatest Hits album always calls to mind summer and drives in the sun with the windows down. It feels weird listening to that album in any other situation.

U2: The song "Electrical Storm" as played on their Greatest Hits 90-00 CD inspired a scene in Strings of Betrayal. It's impossible for me to hear that song without seeing that scene play out in my head.

And last (for now), but certainly not least...

Natalie Cole & Nat King Cole: "Unforgettable" was the first dance Mark and I shared as a married couple. I can't hear that song and not remember trying to teach Mark to dance in the weeks before our wedding, dealing with the church's Wedding Nazi, watching a bowl of soup dump into PJ's pocket at the rehearsal dinner, getting Matt's "Scent of a Woman" drawing in Pictionary in the big shindig we had the night before the wedding, finding out my brother's plane had landed just three hours before the wedding, reaching for Mark's right hand instead of his left when we exchanged rings, having everyone hold down my veil in the pictures we took outside in the wind, having to make three "oops, we forgot something" trips back to the apartment both before the reception and before we left for our honeymoon, having all the men at the reception at the DJ's direction sing "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'" to me on their knees, trying three times to get a cosmopolitan from the bar and only succeeding on the third try and holding my "victory drink" as I danced with my brother, and watching a meteorite streak across the sky framed by the window next to our table at dinner during our honeymoon in the Southwest.

Travelin' Woman

Via Andi, here's a map of all the states I've been to in my life.


create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

The Military Family

Military members get tossed all over the world as they serve their country, and their families get moved around with them. People come in and out of your life very quickly, and yet amazing friendships can form in just a year. The other neat thing about the military is that it's very hard to lose touch with anybody. The networks and connections that you form are intricate and plentiful. And strange coincidences are prevalent.

That's why I wasn't surprised that I heard from a high school buddy via email this week - just days after I thought about him and wondered what he was up to. Turns out he lives just a few minutes away from my mother in Arizona. I wish I had known that in time for our Turkey Day trip.

The really neat thing about this friendship is that we were at the same place for six years straight - an unheard of thing in the military. Both his family and my family were stationed at the same base at the same time and had the good luck to stay there for two tours (a tour being three years). Our first aquaintance was during the rocky times of junior high. But we managed to get over that through our church youth groups. We've seen Fatima, Rome, and Lourdes together. We've worked on Catholic youth retreat teams together. And we graduated from high school together. There's a great shot of me, him, and another six-year-long youth group friend locked in a group hug on our high school graduation video. It's at the end of the ceremony, as the video fades from color to grayscale and goes to slowmo to show a montage of everyone hugging and celebrating. That moment of the video means more to me than the five minutes of my Valedictory address (most of which I roll my eyes at because I sound so naive and could think of a million better things to say now) because it represents so many years of my life in Germany, so many experiences, so many friendships, the depth of my faith at that point in my life...so many amazing things.

Now I'm getting all teary-eyed. Excuse me while I smile at a few memories and wallow in fond nostalgia.

Another Turkey Bites the Dust

Well, almost, anyway. But let me build up to that.

The trip was great, fairly uneventful, and relatively low-key. Mark is very glad he won't be spending any time longer than an hour in the car until Christmas, when the drive will be only 10-12 hours as opposed to 14. We got on the road at 5:30 - very early, considering Mark's hatred of the morning before 8 on a good day, 10 usually. The biggest adventure of the trip down was our brief stop in Las Vegas. Las Vegas, New Mexico, that is. We stopped to get gas, and the blue signs near the exit said there was a Wendy's nearby, so we figured we get lunch as well. After filling the tank, we went in search of grub. We saw a KFC and Burger King, but no Wendy's. After journeying two miles away from the gas station, we turned back, figuring that KFC would work just fine. Only to find out it was closed for remodeling (something the marquee displayed on only one of its faces - meaning we couldn't see this important information driving from the gas station). So we tried the Burger King. I told Mark what I wanted to eat and went to the bathroom to put in my contacts. I get into the bathroom and realize I had grabbed the bag with my contact solution in it, but not the one with my actual contacts. I left the restroom, only to find Mark standing there without food, waiting for me. This particular Burger King doesn't take credit cards. Back into the car we go, eager to leave the silliness that is Las Vegas not in Nevada. We had not ventured far out of Vegas when we nearly hit a dog trying to cross the Interstate. At 75 mph, that wouldn't have been a pleasant site. It seemed to be waiting just for the right time to cross as there weren't any cars for quite a distance either in front of or behind us. And that was about it for the drive down.

Our stay at my mother's was pretty relaxed. Watched movies, hung out in the spa, nothing too big. The Turkey Day meal itself was grand, as always. Although it wouldn't be my mother's cooking if there wasn't some sort of misadventure there. The turkey was a little undercooked. We were able to trim off big chunks that were fine, but it's about par for the big bird course. On the bright side, this turkey would've been fully cooked with another hour or so (likely less), which means it's still nowhere in the league of the Turkey that Wouldn't Die. I think we gave up on that one after 15 hours of cooking. Or maybe we did let it go longer.

Saturday we started our first leg of the trip back. We went to Phoenix to grab lunch at the only non-Western New York location of Ted's Hot Dogs. It's set up just the same as the others, with lots of Buffalo paraphinalia. They even had a few Buffalo newspapers there. Mark got a little misty-eyed. Until we realized that they are a cash only restaurant. Enter the fun game of Scrounge for Change. It was actually a rather entertaining experience. And the hot dogs were from Sahlen's, the same supplier of the NY Ted's. They even had Loganberry there.

That night we caught a sunset at the Grand Canyon. Breath-taking as always. It'll be nice to be closer to the park one day. We stayed in Flagstaff. Choosing a place proved somewhat interesting. Two hotels of equal price and caliber were right across the street from each other. Then we saw the marquee for one of them. It announced, "Martians Welcome." We went for the one not proudly catering to those uppity green folk. I mean, imagine sharing a floor with those aliens! Of course, my muse kept wondering what the story behind that announcement was and what these particular Martians would look like. And Mark actually dreamed about why the hotel advertised such a thing.

And now we're back, facing a mountain of laundry and a pile of newspapers. Time to start preparing for the next road trip.