tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192548582024-03-06T19:42:31.109-08:00The Scratching PostScratching the writing itch.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.comBlogger141125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-50374842812098022982012-11-25T10:15:00.000-08:002012-11-25T10:15:34.835-08:00Autumn in New York<br />
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Originally Written 9/16</div>
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Our last full day in New York we got a late start and had the intention of taking it easy, and yet somehow ended up doing as much as any other day. </div>
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Unlike previous days, we went to bed with no clear plans for the next day, woke up slowly and did not hurry out to get much done. There was a feeling that we'd done everything. Not everything that New York has to do, that would take months, but everything we needed to do this trip. Over a leisurely breakfast we decided to hit a nearby game store and then go down and get out of Manhattan, just so we could say we'd done it.</div>
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After a goof on the subway that had us at Union Square instead of Grand Central, we ended up at The Complete Stratagist at the base of the Empire State Building. Like a lot of stores in New York the small space was packed with as much as they could fit. In this case they were filling it with games of all kinds (except video): roll playing games, board games, card games, dice games, and everything else. Tech Support picked up a game we were interested in trying.<br />
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We took the subway down to the Brooklyn Bridge, and on a whim decided to stay on as it went by the abandoned City Hall Station again. This time, prepared, we saw more of the skylights and station. We got off at the next station and headed over to the bridge. Like many of the attractions in New York it was undergoing work, so for the first part of it we were walking between corrugated metal corridors, enjoying the feeling of cattle being herded and getting none of the view. "Imagine you are a tourist in New York..."<br />
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Eventually we got out though, and saw the views of the bay and the bridge and had a lovely walk.<br />
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Legs aching a bit, we found a park to sit in right on the other side and then went to a nearby Boba place and took it easy for a few more minutes. Fiddling around with our Smartphones, Tech Support figured out that we were actually ridiculously close to HP Lovecrafts Brookyln apartment, so we took a short stroll. He only lived there for a little while and it's still a rented apartment, so there wasn't much to see, but it was nice to see the area that he hated so much.<br />
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My guidebook promised interested graffiti if we crossed the Williamsburg bridge but had pitiful little in the way of explanation on how to get there. First we walked through a dark section of Williamsburg, the streets rich with graffiti and dark because of the elevated subway tracks overhead.<br />
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Then, we spent twenty minutes looking for the pedestrian walkway that would take us across. First we couldn't find any way on, and then we only found the bike path. Finally, with the Smartphones help again, we found the pedestrian walkway.</div>
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There was a fair amount of graffiti.<br />
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The Williamsburg bridge is longer than the Brooklyn Bridge, and we passed a colorful set of characters as we made our way across. Once at the other end my legs ached and we spent some time reorientating ourselves. We discovered a nearby Soba place with excellent reviews on yelp and thought about doing another Tenement Museum tour.<br />
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But neither were too happen, as the tours at the Tenement Museum were all sold out, and while sitting at another coffee shop we came up with a new plan: Go back to Brooklyn and to a used sci-fi book store that publishes out of print/copyright books. So back onto the subway we went, and then out to a quiet, warehouse filled part of Brooklyn by the river. </div>
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The store, Singularity and Co, was awesome. It was like wandering through my childhood as I saw all the old yellow DAW paperbacks with their scantly clad barbarian characters on the covers. Time portals, time-space portals, rips in space time and doorways to other dimensions abounded in the back cover copy. I found the fantasy novel that made me stop reading fantasy, and the pern books by Anne McCaffrey I'd devoured when young. </div>
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I had more fun pouring through the museum of my childhood but didn't have much luck finding any authors I was interested in. Tech Support, concerned I was bored, kept suggesting he was done and we leave. But I kept telling him we should stick around a little longer and the pile of books in his hands kept growing. Finally, when we were about to leave, Tech Support scored majorly with an out-of-print copy of a roll playing manual he loved, discovered off to one side of the store he hadn't explored. The store owner clearly didn't want to give it up, and even asked about hosting a game at the store. He was deflated to hear we were from Los Angeles.</div>
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We left pleased with our bounty of books. We walked a few blocks away and enjoyed a delicious dinner sitting at the bar at Vinegar Hill House. The older building reminded me of eating in England more than New England.<br />
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Next we went back on the Subway to see Catherine one more time, this time for her Birthday. To our surprise we ran into a MASSIVE street party, so thick with people we could barely work our way through it. When we made it to the bar Catherine was supposed to be at we discovered a private party had usurped her, and had to find our way to where they were now.<br />
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Instead we enjoyed drinking at a nearby bar and talking with Catherine, her mom and her friends. It turned Catherine wanted to go to Singularity and Co and Vinegar Hill House, so we heartily recommended both. We didn't part until after midnight.</div>
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We were only partially packed, so we kept getting ready to leave until 2am. Since I'd never really adapted to the time change I wasn't too tired, but I wasn't looking forward to waking up at 6:15am either. My Smartphone alarm clock helpfully informed me that it would be 4 hours and 15 minutes later.</div>
eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-53092743212705289262012-11-09T07:15:00.000-08:002012-11-09T07:15:20.760-08:00Get Outta Town<br />
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Originally Written 9/15<br />
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We got up early to go to the Cloisters, which is situated at the very top of Manhattan and the furthest from our hotel we've gone on this trip. We also took the A-train to get there, which made Duke Ellington's classic play in my head. The A-train was pretty fun as it shot up the west side of Central Park, skipping many local stops.</div>
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We got out on another planet. One of peace and calm and greet trees. Walking along Fort Tryon I got more of a sense of what the original settlers might have seen when they arrived.<br />
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After a short walk we reached the Cloisters themselves. I'm not big on Medieval Art or Ancient Art, and walking through the Cloisters I finally realized why: It's not possible to know much about the artists. We do know a little about some of the medieval artists, but not a lot. Mostly we know about the cultures based on their art they produce. And I'm much more interested in the individual, their personalities, the hardships they faced, their passions and hates, their lives, their growth and bodies of work. Tech Support by comparison is far more interested.<br />
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That said, I still quite enjoyed the art and peace of the Cloisters. The gardens were also beautiful, except for the one near the tiny little 'cafe' where they were reseeding. The square area was just dirt being worked over by industrious sparrows. Smart sparrows too, while Tech Support and I snacked on breakfast Pound Cake and Cookies, they hopped up to within a few feet of us waiting to take advantage of the situation. A sign on the table clearly said 'do not feed the birds' and they were so fat off seeds and tourist leavings that we didn't feel bad about denying them. They were smart suckers too, when I dropped a bit of pound cake in my lap they went scrambling around on the ground, thinking that's where it had gone.<br />
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After spending an idyllic few hours in the calm of the Cloisters we headed back into the denseness of the city, via the subway, and down to the Guggenheim. We enjoyed a delicious lunch at The Wright, a fancy restaurant right next to the museum. There I managed to fling my glasses into my food, and enjoy it a lot.<br />
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Unfortunately the Guggenheim was mostly closed, the main spiral area was inaccessible. Even though that was the main reason for visiting the Guggenheim we went ahead and got the reduced price tickets alway. We were still able to enjoy the few modern paintings they still had out, Picasso, Pissaro, Degas, etc. There was also an exhibit on Rineke Djikstra, a photographer, that I found very interesting.<br />
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All arted out again, we got on the subway once more and headed down to Fifth Avenue for a little retail therapy. I picked up some cute stuff from Uni Qlo, and we walked together through Saint Patrick's church. Then we went to Saks Fifth Avenue, but more to look at it like it were art in a museum than to buy. The dresses were all gorgeous and the sales people over eager (I wanted a pin that said 'just looking'). I wanted them all, but since I don't have the money to purchase them I don't have a reason to wear them either. Still, it was fun to admire them.<br />
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We went back to the hotel to rest a bit before heading out for our second viewing of Sleep No More. We were meeting Catherine there, whose boyfriend was stuck in Libya and therefor had some free time. Tech Support had rigged up some sticky tape and make-up foam so that when we got our masks we'd be able to wear them with our glasses.</div>
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It was just as good as the first time, though the magic of discovery had waned the confidence of moving from room to room allowed me to explore more and see more. I hung out in different areas and watched different characters, trying to get a better feel for the story. At one point I was following the Tailor around and suddenly Tech Support was there -- and the Tailor grabbed his arm and pulled him into his shop! I found a hidden shower room, and spent way too much time watching the Taxidermist wash bones and the Tailor sew a shirt.</div>
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The time passed way too fast again and before I knew it I saw the Black Masks standing ominously in the stairway -- herding us toward the bottom floor for the final scene. As I stood up top I felt someone's hands on my back. They didn't feel like Tech Support's so I peered over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of someone short. Confused, I looked again. </div>
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It was a nurse!</div>
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She kept her hands on me the whole time, squeezing and pressing to add to the drama. Then when it was over she led me through the hotel to the front door. I saw others being led too and we were brought to the Mandarley bar. She took my mask off and gave me a kiss on the cheek. It was so cool.</div>
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Tech Support was standing there, but we took a while to find Catherine. She'd had her own adventures, getting pulled into the Nurse Room, seeing Lady Macbeth naked multiple times and getting kissed on the neck by one of the witches. The Mandarly was busy, so we headed down the street to a bar and each went over our experiences in more depth.</div>
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I understand why people in New York go see this half a dozen times. It'd be a drain on the wallet, but I'm not sure I wouldn't just go hungry to keep doing it.</div>
eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-57515559357044686192012-11-02T07:52:00.001-07:002012-11-02T07:52:52.581-07:00All Arted Out9/14<br />
We made a sluggish start for the Met, leaving later than we meant but still arriving soon after opening time. Overwhelmed and intimidated by the size of the place, we made our way to the 19th and early 20th century painting. <br />
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Compared to Moma however, the Met was calm a peaceful. We didn't have to struggle through any crowds as we went through room after room, starting with painters we didn't know, though there were a few old friends and familiar scenes.<br />
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Eventually we started hitting the familiar names: Picasso, Degas, Tanguay, Dali, Monet, Manet, Renoir, Modigliani, etc. I started my own series of modern art: "Tech Support with the Great Masters"<br />
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We broke away for a quick breakfast/lunch on the rooftop, where we got a gorgeous view of Manhattan. Going over the map we realized if we wanted a chance to see everything we were interested in we'd need to move faster and have a better game plan. <br />
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Inside we started skipping artists whose paintings didn't interest us. We went from 19th and early 20th century European painting to Modern and Contemporary Art. Having just been to Moma we saw familiar artists and paintings that were related to one another. From then we moved on to the European Paintings section, which cover paintings from the 13th to 19th century.<br />
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In the medieval section we learned about the habit people made of hiring artists to depict them in biblical scenes -- which struck me as a definite precursor to photoshopping yourself in with celebrities. There was also a painting that could also be considered a thumbnail gallery.<br />
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I thought I'd need all day at the Met, but by about 2pm, when we hit the American Wing, I found myself on overload. Most of the paintings of people or landscapes I walked by, not too interested, and only paused for Mary Cassat and Whister (both who did most of their painting in Europe anyway) and a funny painting where the artist deliberately obscured everyone's faces that I really liked.<br />
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We finished off some of the sections downstairs, catching the last of the Modern and Contemporary Art.<br />
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Even though we were at risk of being art-ed out, we then went down the street to the Frick Collection. It reminded me a lot of the Getty Museum, in that it was someone's big mansion turned into an art Gallery. The collection there was a lot smaller, we spent maybe an hour there, but they were all quality paintings worth seeing. There were more of our old friends, Degas, Turner, Goya, Tanguay and Whistler. Frick liked Rococo more than me, but I understand his desire to live with paintings that weren't too dark.<br />
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No pictures in the Frick, so I was not able to continue my series featuring Tech Support.<br />
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The Frick was like a chaser to the Met's massive meal and feeling good, we went to a nearby yarn store where I picked up another skein of souvenir yarn.<br />
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After that we headed over to Lena's work, where we played games with her friends (and I met the woman Lena claims is my doppelganger) for about 45 minutes before going to our next stop, a not-so-secret bar. This one involves through into a hotdog restaurant and into a phone booth where you make a call to get inside. Lena had made reservations so we only had to stand for a short while before going through the phone booth and into the bar itself.<br />
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Thanks to their strict policies the bar is nice and not too crowded, and we enjoyed a round of drinks together in the speak-easy atmosphere.<br />
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After that we went to a restaurant that had been recommended to all of us multiple times and gorged ourselves on Venezuelan food. We then headed up the street to hang out at Lena and Daniel's cute New York apartment for a little while before it got late and we headed back to our hotel. eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-34926932828587436352012-10-29T10:32:00.003-07:002012-10-30T08:40:25.277-07:00Killer Squirrels and ADD Rooms<br />
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9/12</div>
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Today we took it easier. We started out late but well rested and less sore, and headed down to the Strand Bookstore which we had not made it to yesterday. Kirby found a few books (one of which he is reading as I write this). We were going to meet Lena and Daniel for lunch and had time to kill, so we had some tea at a place by the Strand and then headed down to the Financial District. </div>
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Still with extra time we walked down to Battery Park. There, Tech Support decided to sit down for a moment. As he headed toward the bench I saw a squirrel trailing after him, but thought it was a coincidence. It wasn't, the squirrel continued after him, proceeded to get up on the bench and onto Tech Supports lap.</div>
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Certainly, it was a squirrel used to people, but Tech Support was not a people used to squirrels, so he shooed it away. Down on the ground a pigeon was hoping to get in on the action and just about got into a fight with the squirrel. At that point a sparrow swooped down and tried to pen him in on the other side and Tech Support abandoned the bench.</div>
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Escaping the overly friendly wild-life, we met up with Lena and Daniel at their office, on the 25th floor of one of the buildings in the financial district. We enjoyed a catered lunch while catching up and staring out the windows at a gorgeous view of the bay. They gave us a few tips on things to do in the area.</div>
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After that we headed back down to Battery Park and took the next ferry out to the Statue of Liberty. I'd watched Ken Burn's documentary and so turned up my nose to the audio guide, but Tech Support enjoyed it. The observation decks were all closed so we couldn't go inside, but I think I'd done that when I was ten and have no memory of it anyway.</div>
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Next we got back on the ferry and went to Ellis Island, which I hadn't done last time I was in New York. The audio tour was an unending series of rhetorical questions and requests that the listener "imagine" that they are a poor immigrant at the turn of the century. I wished they'd been more imaginative in their audio tour. However, I still enjoyed the exhibits and learning about Ellis Island.</div>
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Going on a tip from Lena we did a bit of subway hopping in order to see the abandoned City Hall Station, which involved staying on the 6 subway after it's last stop while it did the turn around. There was not a whole lot to see, mostly a glimpse of stairs and dark tile, but it was still a fun little adventure.</div>
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We went up to East Village where we sampled some bao and then gorged ourselves around the corner on delicious cookies and truffles. Buzzing with sugar we headed but uptown, were too late to do anymore shopping, but went to the Rockafeller Center to the Top of the Rock. I'm not sure why it's a rock, but we went up 67 stories and looked out at New York City at night. </div>
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Nothing will ever out-do the Sears Tower for dizzying views that had me clutching at the wall, but neither do I need that experience again. I love seeing cities at night, and it reminded me of the time Tech Support and I looked out at Tokyo at night from the Roppongi Hills Skydeck.</div>
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It also had this funny "ADD Room" as Tech Support called it, where moving around caused the lights to do all kinds of different things. He had fun running around and claimed there was a way to "win", although the good humored guard explaining it all to us just said that it was set off by our movements.</div>
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After spending a while romantically gazing out at the city, we got cold and headed back to the hotel for an earlier night and some much needed rest.</div>
eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-55003042133410331112012-10-21T08:07:00.001-07:002012-10-21T08:07:18.789-07:00Laundry List Day<br />
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9/12</div>
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Everyday we're doing so much, the days seem endlessly long in a good way, and I could almost write the day out as a laundry list, something like this:</div>
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Grand Central Station</div>
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New York Public Library</div>
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Moma Design Store</div>
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Purl Soho</div>
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UniQlo</div>
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Soba Koh</div>
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Tokyo Toy</div>
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Video Game New York</div>
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Tenement Museum</div>
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Forbidden Planet</div>
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Konoyama</div>
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But leaves out all the flavor of the trip. Such as when we got on the subway in the morning to go to Grand Central Station a very decrepit looking woman ran off lugging a bag that seemed a bit too heavy for her, followed by a similarly decrepit man slurring "Hey! My bag!" Leaving all of us wondering who was the victim.</div>
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So let me continue in my usual fashion.</div>
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Grand Central Station is something I will associate with The Fisher King, but alas, none of the busy people hurrying through started to dance. Despite having seen many images of it I was amazed by how high the ceiling was, and entranced by the juxtaposition of the unused space above our heads and the crowd on the floor.</div>
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Also, there was an apple store when you went up a set of stairs, for the most part not closed in by any walls. As worshippers of Apple we were required to go... inside? for a few minutes, but this time did not pay for any tributes.</div>
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After that we had breakfast at nearby Pershing Square, and then went on to the New York Public Library. The space was so beautiful I was caught between envying the patrons for getting to use such a beautiful space, and feeling bad because of the number of tourists they have to put up with while trying to use their library. Downstairs there was an exhibit on Lunch that was surprisingly interested, and had a section on the automat, something that has always seemed strange and fascinating to me.</div>
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After the library we took the subway down to the East Village for some shopping. Here I can do a bit more of a list, as we hit the Moma Design Store, Purl Soho, and Uniqlo. We had fun and managed not to divest ourselves of too much money.</div>
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We headed up a bit to go to Soba Koh, a place that had been recommended by someone where I work. The Soba Noodles there are handmade and it's a bit of a splurge, but it was totally worth it to both of us. The noodles were firm and substantial, I got mine with Uni and Ikura (sea urchin and salmon eggs) and Tech Support got his with tempura soft shelled crab. I offered him some of mine but as he said, "I have what you have only I don't like any of your toppings". Oh well, I thought it was delicious.</div>
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Afterwards they gave us the water from boiling the soba to make a soup with our dipping sauce, and tea. It was a beautiful meal and since we were the last people there before they closed, we enjoyed it mostly to ourselves.</div>
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Next we went to Tokyo Toy and Video Game Store New York. On the way to the second we encountered the sound of bikes revving and bagpipes playing. Curious, we went to watch as tough men on bikes and firefighters seemed to be rehearsing in front of an Irish Pub. It wasn't until I got a text from Mom reminding me it was September 11th that I realized it was probably a memorial of some kind.</div>
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Video Game Store New York is practically a museum of video games. Thanks to Game Center CX (where a Japanese man in his mid-late thirties plays retro games of his/our childhood) I recognized many games I wouldn't have otherwise. Tech Support and I enjoyed going through our own childhoods and sharing which ones had been important to us. He picked up a few games for an antiquated system he'd recently rediscovered.</div>
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We were low on time and the bus didn't help, but we managed to make it to the Tenement Museum in time to go on the last tour of the day. It was more interesting than I expected and we got to see up close how tiny their apartments were, how dangerous and bad for health, but also learn about how people persevered in those situations despite children dying and husbands disappearing.</div>
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We still had a little time to kill before meeting Catherine for dinner, so we went to a comic book store and then met up with her early. We hadn't seen each other in forever and enjoyed catching up on the past half-dozen years. After eating sushi she lead us to a secret bar that you entered just by going through an unmarked metal gate and down some stairs. It felt awesome and sophisticated.</div>
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After that we were finally done with the day, we took the subway and then I got my first good night of sleep.</div>
eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-48134558938754050402012-10-20T09:11:00.000-07:002012-10-20T09:11:14.827-07:00Didn't Sleep To Well<br />
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Yesterday was a very, very long day. But it was also amazing.</div>
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Still didn't sleep too well, and the sun is coming in through our window like a giant spotlight early in the morning. After tossing and turning for a bit we got up and headed out. Our breakfast plan was the uber-health conscious dunkin' donuts, and despite it being literally across the street from us, it took us about 10 minutes to find. In our defense, it was down by the subway and not at ground level.</div>
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We walked down 53rd street to Moma, but were 40 minutes early and rather than wait in line took a stroll around the neighborhood, through the Rockafeller center and past the fifth avenue shops. </div>
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After killing time for a bit we went back to Moma where the line seemed long but moved fast. I knew which floors I was interested in, so we started at the very top, 6th floor. There were two special exhibits, one on Alighiero Boetta and another on design for children. Both were interested but not what I had really come to Moma for.</div>
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What I had come for was on the 5th floor: Magritte, Dali, Modigliani, Matisse, Monet, Picasso, Van Gogh, Malevich, Miro, Tanguay, and all that good stuff. We went through room after room of modern painting. I didn't use the audio track much because I didn't want to be distracted from the actual paintings.</div>
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I was familiar with many of the paintings, but nothing compares to seeing a painting in person, it just evokes a different feeling in me than seeing photographs in books or on the internet. Moma has one of my favorite Magritte paintings, Empire of Light 2, and it was like running into an old friend. I spotted a Modigliani from across the room. Salvidore Dali's Persistence of Memory was much smaller than I expected, as a lot of famous paintings have been. Andrew Wyeth's Christine's World casually hung in one corner near the elevator, as though she couldn't get herself into any of the main rooms either.</div>
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We had lunch at the mid-range cafe, discussing the art we'd seen and what famous painter we'd want hanging on our walls. I've discovered that Tart's and Quiche's and things with warm cheese are always the safe choice at museums.</div>
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We went through most of the rest of the museum at a fairly rapid pace, checking out the Warhol and etc. There was a special exhibit on the Brother's Quay which was very interesting, and we did slow down for it, but it left them as enigmatic and unknowable as ever.</div>
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Though a bit sore from all the walking we headed out to do a bit of shopping, but I didn't find anything I loved. We searched for food in the Times Square area but it was a bit too touristy, and after fussing tiredly at each other near our hotel we grabbed some snacks from a nearby convenience store for dinner. It was a marked difference from lunch.</div>
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After that we rested a bit because we were about to go see Sleep No More -- the most anticipated part of our trip. For months we weren't even sure we'd be able to see it, because it was scheduled to close before we'd get there. All my relations and friends were subjected endlessly to descriptions and eager hopeful proclamations. Nervously we'd log onto their website and watch the dates eek closer to our vacation days until finally they were extended through September. So, putting it mildly, we were very excited (and nervous) about seeing Sleep No More. </div>
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Getting there on the subway was easy, and we found our way to the McKittrick hotel with no trouble, joining a long line of people ready to go in. It wasn't too long before we entered.</div>
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It's the kind of thing that's hard to talk about, because it feels like it should be a secret. It's hard to even describe the feeling, an adult play land of dark hallways and mysterious rooms, dancers and nudity. Trying to define it would take away the magic, and trying to leave it mysterious would make me sound like HP Lovecraft, full of indescribable and unnamable. And of course, pictures were not allowed. That would ruin the experience. The few people talking when they shouldn't annoyed me for breaking the atmosphere.</div>
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Here's what I can say:</div>
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Before even donning our masks, Tech Support and I got split up and I was terrified at being alone but also okay, because I wanted us to have separate experiences. Still, when I found him 10 minutes later I took the opportunity to startle him. We explored together for maybe an hour before I lost him in a room full of people. I kept an eye out for a tall guy in a light shirt, but there were quite a few of them. (Later he told me there were a lot of short girls too). </div>
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I spent the next two hours or so wandering on my own until the climax of the show, when we were all shuffled out of the hotel. Tech Support and I found each other and rather than fight the crush of people, headed back out into the real world.</div>
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It was a surprisingly gentle transition. It was now after ten and dark and moody outside. We took the opportunity to walk over and sit on the high line. We felt safe even though it was late and we were in a strange neighborhood, and sat and talked about the different things we'd seen. Tired and foot-sore, I pushed us to head back to our hotel. While walking down the high line we heard a strange voice from underneath, a recording, say "Bad Animals. Tapeworm. Rats. Cockroach." And in some way it felt like we were still in a performance art piece. (Of course it was another bit of art we'd stumbled across.)</div>
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In our room, we made reservations to do Sleep No More again on Friday.</div>
eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-42392484720883094322012-10-18T17:49:00.000-07:002012-10-18T17:49:10.979-07:00New York, New York<br />
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9/8/12</div>
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I always expect packing to take more work than it actually does. Maybe I remember too many childhood trips taken with four people, when my brother was a baby, and lugging what seemed like a dozen (although was probably more like four) bags around.</div>
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Instead I toss as many clothes as I can into a suitcase along with Tech Support's, and it only fills one suitcase, and we're done. And I wander around the apartment trying to find what I've forgotten.</div>
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Still, I don't sleep great before flights, and the night before last was no exception. As a result I was pleasantly out of it for the ride to the airport, breakfast at McDonalds, and most of the flight too. </div>
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We took off a little late and Tech Support and I were sitting in a front area with massive amount of legroom and no place for our bags. The single window was covered up by our third row-mate, so the entire time I kept pretending that we weren't actually in the air, but in a strange vibrating room. Frigid air was blasting from the emergency exit, making our poor row-mate who sat next to it miserable, as well as bewildered and upset that no one could do anything about it mid-air.</div>
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So for about 5 hours we read, fussed, got hungry but didn't pay for expensive food, dozed, and then landed.</div>
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It was raining in Jamaica (where JFK is, which did confuse me). We actually were late getting in because of a "weather system" which we later discovered to our extreme surprise were tornados in Brooklyn. We missed all of it, and took a cab into Manhattan. Traffic was slow at first but eventually we saw the bright lights.</div>
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After checking in and changing we headed out to meet up with Erica. Not sure how to get a cab Tech Support kinda flailed in the air until a driver took pity on us. We met up with Erica and her beau and enjoyed good company, good conversation and chianti. Afterwards we split up, tried to find the subway, gave up, and took the taxi back to the hotel.</div>
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9/9/12</div>
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Neither of us slept too great. In the morning I dozed poorly, my body bewildered by the way the sun blasted through the windows at 5am (it didn't know about the time change). Eventually we dragged ourselves up and out to breakfast.<br />
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We enjoyed our breakfast thoroughly, and almost as much enjoyed watching about two dozen well dressed New Yorkers poured into the restaurant. There was a lot of hugging and chatting and near as we could figure a large group of family and friends had just come from service and were enjoying some kind of occasion together for breakfast. Envelopes kept being passed to one member of the party. Tech Support and I speculated on what was happening.</div>
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After that we figured out the subway system without too much pain and took two short jaunts to get from near our hotel up to a corner of Central Park. </div>
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Of course we had to go to the Apple Store there. Tech Support got himself a diminutive magic gizmo for taking credit cards which seemed to make him happy about a future of charging people. Rather than going to the park we went further down 5th street, checking out all the fancy stores. We found Uni Qlo and checked out the clothes but weren't ready to shop yet, so turned and headed back to Central Park.</div>
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Under orders from my mother to go to Strawberry Fields we went entered the park. We'd been discussing Law and Order and the high chances of finding a dead body in the area, so I took every opportunity to go under bridges (the best place to find a body). Unfortunately my zeal lead us far afield of our actual goal, and even took us directly under Strawberry Fields. Thanks to Tech Support we finally ended up in the right area, where dozens of tourists were gathered around the imagine mosaic. A man with a guitar kept singing "Let It Be" over and over again, possibly not even using any other lyrics. I wondered why he didn't sing Imagine.<br />
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After that we meandered through the park a bit more, enjoying a perfect day too much because suddenly we were out of time and rushing back into the city to meet with Erica on time. I almost got us lost but then we found her and her guy in time for "Avenue Q".</div>
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"Avenue Q" made me feel very different about puppets. It was also an excellent way to relax after walking all over the city. Afterwards we had a few more minutes to catch up with Erica, though it didn't really feel like enough, as they walked us back to our hotel. We shared awkward hugs and waved goodbye. Unfortunately, it wasn't until later that day I realized I'd failed to take any pictures of us together.</div>
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Tech Support and I weren't really ready to retire to our room, but since we were at the hotel we went inside only to discover the hotel wasn't ready for us either -- the elevators weren't moving. We left and went down the street to a restaurant in our guidebook where we enjoyed a long romantic dinner together.<br />
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Tech Support had some romantic New-York-Notion of staying out late doing more things, but by the time we were done and it was nearly 8pm we instead were ready to collapse into our bed. Luckily this time the elevators were working and we got to our room without trouble.</div>
eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-65544396060792536452010-11-04T16:28:00.000-07:002010-11-04T17:08:06.918-07:00Ghost Real EstateI think we both slept better in Barstow, due in no small part to not being freezing cold all night. Since we'd gone to bed early we both woke up fairly early and after consulting the internet on various important issues, packed up and said good-bye to the tiny little pool. We were bound -- for IHOP!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbtcUD4zVenTeAKvKnIGIuGmRfNlcmiit1m5gcRtTZ2CMnFFqz70aHyPIV2ZuZRXS2Np3bpx_n6GLsz68RWXYARbveVT6rDpHQPA60xL_uE8t3eq4zAH8_sT0r-DibCA4KBwC3Q/s1600/ihop.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbtcUD4zVenTeAKvKnIGIuGmRfNlcmiit1m5gcRtTZ2CMnFFqz70aHyPIV2ZuZRXS2Np3bpx_n6GLsz68RWXYARbveVT6rDpHQPA60xL_uE8t3eq4zAH8_sT0r-DibCA4KBwC3Q/s320/ihop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847851874278818" border="0" /></a><br />Theo had the evening previous stated that he wanted a real breakfast, not Sara's 'eat something, whatever, come-on, let's go!' routine. Our choices in Barstow and the surrounding area seemed to be between Denny's and IHOP so -- there we went to enjoy pancakes and hashbrowns. Theo got a crepe with fresh fruit, one of the few non-fried things he'd had in the past few days.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEHBYvsi9Qd3v5geNFs9CE9wplvMykmPb-6F3xOJ0Tgr9XAd3ir_3N3ScyS24kyY-XNavvVcoa4oAfWzFJgoWOiy7XEM99UcvSs9qc_icCDtaZKXp48bLaqfNYvU4VRX6Ll3y-w/s1600/darkskies.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEHBYvsi9Qd3v5geNFs9CE9wplvMykmPb-6F3xOJ0Tgr9XAd3ir_3N3ScyS24kyY-XNavvVcoa4oAfWzFJgoWOiy7XEM99UcvSs9qc_icCDtaZKXp48bLaqfNYvU4VRX6Ll3y-w/s320/darkskies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847602581405010" border="0" /></a><br />Next we got onto the 58 freeway and started out for California City. The sky was dark and ominous in most directions, and we saw lightening in the distance. There really wasn't much else to see except for broken old houses doing imitations of Stone Henge.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf4nMejuYpJbts8OoEsxk5ekosysa_KMYpmb0Z8O_DEMu3YSYC6DVjlZ-cCBUE9yfMZ-rNR9uoXHxqnMeRwSuO3E2eDrhrKSghCGN24lODWUTF8x5RLSTYpGu1EMWattJ_ruBwMg/s1600/onourway.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf4nMejuYpJbts8OoEsxk5ekosysa_KMYpmb0Z8O_DEMu3YSYC6DVjlZ-cCBUE9yfMZ-rNR9uoXHxqnMeRwSuO3E2eDrhrKSghCGN24lODWUTF8x5RLSTYpGu1EMWattJ_ruBwMg/s320/onourway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848113291898930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWl2o9ES7DtzddNMm_3RcWLQ_dmxlBd9AUJbhUuP_JU2PNa8FRniYnJvOKrhcX5Bjdb37h_PB3-mi9ILtLGpKG5mIh-WAI6k_WPJNimOxZWHYhgNWeS9wU724reHbnTgEec44d4Q/s1600/stonehenge.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWl2o9ES7DtzddNMm_3RcWLQ_dmxlBd9AUJbhUuP_JU2PNa8FRniYnJvOKrhcX5Bjdb37h_PB3-mi9ILtLGpKG5mIh-WAI6k_WPJNimOxZWHYhgNWeS9wU724reHbnTgEec44d4Q/s320/stonehenge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848125788852018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSXixdHxDQAK6HQTskpp7UhubkDBi1Bjazr5rwIsuOgXQ8h08wq82N2WZIR72k6wloI9RQLYb9gy854bx9VxrH439XtNJzXnmnTwsF7ymrXo_vlpyW8ggUvA5ZPnB_IffDE_cuA/s1600/theodarksky.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSXixdHxDQAK6HQTskpp7UhubkDBi1Bjazr5rwIsuOgXQ8h08wq82N2WZIR72k6wloI9RQLYb9gy854bx9VxrH439XtNJzXnmnTwsF7ymrXo_vlpyW8ggUvA5ZPnB_IffDE_cuA/s320/theodarksky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848291501350850" border="0" /></a><br />We came upon California City boulevard and turned right, traveling through more nothing. Another ten minutes and we'd reached our ultimate goal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ezEph3qZHnOLaHz4lhlGhA6ZD6HA9D6j_CTSBYQSlaTVMSG_BhGKN-Kzp1CzYwRihWggkYp2Id10MMJ9bqaG1tfwrvD2QB2lLiuFtarRTFJTaL068tfHBthyphenhyphenPCFG86AS68nr9w/s1600/cacityblvd.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ezEph3qZHnOLaHz4lhlGhA6ZD6HA9D6j_CTSBYQSlaTVMSG_BhGKN-Kzp1CzYwRihWggkYp2Id10MMJ9bqaG1tfwrvD2QB2lLiuFtarRTFJTaL068tfHBthyphenhyphenPCFG86AS68nr9w/s320/cacityblvd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847588086630434" border="0" /></a><br />California City was strange. Very strange. We'd read about it in an article some month's ago and both been determined to come out and see the endless empty lots that made up the third largest city in CA -- geographically. At first all we saw was the actual city -- but something wasn't quite right. Street signs marked streets that weren't there. There were strange, double, one-way streets and we made a wrong turn and went down one going the wrong way, not that it mattered because no one was there. At one point in the middle of the city, only a dozen yards from a Rite Aid, we drove around a winding street with dead-ended off shoots, ending in a circular spot of asphalt. There were no buildings being served by this <span class="il">road</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaxyi2h-8LMBLqedVyT7P1Ov_ANFLopdge9opyCNHIGjycjydrCYIxftuZHaqM6iSYsWH6joxLECLJscHQ5tYMuQuhUXNtqVIVYksDATT0SHjq-ljjvTzTPGPN0vaYwjCeMMuUw/s1600/cacitystreets.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaxyi2h-8LMBLqedVyT7P1Ov_ANFLopdge9opyCNHIGjycjydrCYIxftuZHaqM6iSYsWH6joxLECLJscHQ5tYMuQuhUXNtqVIVYksDATT0SHjq-ljjvTzTPGPN0vaYwjCeMMuUw/s320/cacitystreets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847589419527346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHC1OtTUWHqXMEK741uf5DpGJp8FpHAT8zx5z0__ilshVmKmFESUWMkBeVISFFV2PGy30JtYZNlPmbY3V0U1DuNCYv6n8GZZ-P16EF-lU2Qt44gHgO38K-A3KcrPP2eoxc8-Xctw/s1600/pointlessstreetsign.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHC1OtTUWHqXMEK741uf5DpGJp8FpHAT8zx5z0__ilshVmKmFESUWMkBeVISFFV2PGy30JtYZNlPmbY3V0U1DuNCYv6n8GZZ-P16EF-lU2Qt44gHgO38K-A3KcrPP2eoxc8-Xctw/s320/pointlessstreetsign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848112026188130" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9m85bJKMBicP3ckmqLHX30HvgofB42Ndjx1rycBEb1b-sP9-8_MQzDJ3_RH_BiHe2eEKhewCwGzWBINKUwiqBUqekLVU5tfggkiytbBkZeKm4WoCiRVyQghxymSUscAP61X3MMQ/s1600/confusingcacitystreets.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9m85bJKMBicP3ckmqLHX30HvgofB42Ndjx1rycBEb1b-sP9-8_MQzDJ3_RH_BiHe2eEKhewCwGzWBINKUwiqBUqekLVU5tfggkiytbBkZeKm4WoCiRVyQghxymSUscAP61X3MMQ/s320/confusingcacitystreets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847599386765250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVW8eSptP4E9o9SuGFMgC1Zl13GM9_yBq182J54IiqKlaEWbIzts46iPsoAiKDWtpThCjGNa5Li2cvfDZhqq8F-MTCLcXYOmPSHJu3QNiCh4UfUCNvVCfcCWzq6iKjCKF7epQ_gg/s1600/deadend.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVW8eSptP4E9o9SuGFMgC1Zl13GM9_yBq182J54IiqKlaEWbIzts46iPsoAiKDWtpThCjGNa5Li2cvfDZhqq8F-MTCLcXYOmPSHJu3QNiCh4UfUCNvVCfcCWzq6iKjCKF7epQ_gg/s320/deadend.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847834277417938" border="0" /></a><br />We got out to the edge of town and found the lots. Debris and motorcycle tracks littered the ground. Weeds had forced their way up through the cracked roads that led past dozens and dozens of empty real estate signs. Others still sat in the weeds, hopeful that maybe someone would be interested in some local property. Strange metal pipes stuck up at even intervals and we found a fire-hydrant parked out in nowhere. Here and there we caught sight of houses and trailers without any nearby neighbors.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLUUUDp5J2Te2CGScHf7EjldjUCbcWzzdLoan5hsLDogmi-DzyACXuNeFD0DVcFbxQp9BOdcwnGR8XcQjt3Dg-PJVUkutn5Uwu99Gklr-GT_2ykf1xJRbnwoFWhCtrJ_pgGtoBQ/s1600/emptylotpipe.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLUUUDp5J2Te2CGScHf7EjldjUCbcWzzdLoan5hsLDogmi-DzyACXuNeFD0DVcFbxQp9BOdcwnGR8XcQjt3Dg-PJVUkutn5Uwu99Gklr-GT_2ykf1xJRbnwoFWhCtrJ_pgGtoBQ/s320/emptylotpipe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847833088546178" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZgMSanPI7zZZHfRoIOg4nciVWLAlviFC-EcDRzjpOjGU-EX1FomVmc13hFHu5TzyFSCyVyFdf43XMVT5McPIN6qxs58OWQ4thOGzr2Rc8NzDDF0qIbwnyWXFcZMyWs1wmkVZB5A/s1600/emptylots.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZgMSanPI7zZZHfRoIOg4nciVWLAlviFC-EcDRzjpOjGU-EX1FomVmc13hFHu5TzyFSCyVyFdf43XMVT5McPIN6qxs58OWQ4thOGzr2Rc8NzDDF0qIbwnyWXFcZMyWs1wmkVZB5A/s320/emptylots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847840446743666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Ct1HKkWRh6yh5o_JI65SL_8lI1pZwC8qPkK2H6k2K7LKJ8hh-exjeGRwMO_ObE1vPmuOGmjoS7wq5PJ9VW6dkL7rsR-XSqT13zC3TwdsVRckgBCsAwANEiCKgC4knW4VuVls1Q/s1600/firehydrant.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Ct1HKkWRh6yh5o_JI65SL_8lI1pZwC8qPkK2H6k2K7LKJ8hh-exjeGRwMO_ObE1vPmuOGmjoS7wq5PJ9VW6dkL7rsR-XSqT13zC3TwdsVRckgBCsAwANEiCKgC4knW4VuVls1Q/s320/firehydrant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847844183106850" border="0" /></a><br />I looked at Theo and around where we stood and knew these empty lots went on and on and on. It was strange, and surreal. I dubbed it standing amidst ruins that had never come to be. Really, it was the ruins of one mans fantasy. We'd come out here to look at nothing, and it was pretty creepy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7h9dPgUeZ5Peq0o89F0tWhEPZOjk9nw3ZFD-Sn7YDSH69GD7C_S43wVrcAYz2pGbgSOplpleDQw9gyNHqKSIjKObfVujIMXwSa-b63lEFv2d2KQNSPalxrd_GZoxffIfjyTO9eg/s1600/saracacity.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7h9dPgUeZ5Peq0o89F0tWhEPZOjk9nw3ZFD-Sn7YDSH69GD7C_S43wVrcAYz2pGbgSOplpleDQw9gyNHqKSIjKObfVujIMXwSa-b63lEFv2d2KQNSPalxrd_GZoxffIfjyTO9eg/s320/saracacity.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848120969253170" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKv8Jn9Z6YsuoBlxturfrCiKEm3rDzIheCRtkatpxi8BTQjUl6N9f1Y4BpTjF9mKhSzgsfa-M7k-yx2ycCbknqLs_KHTH7ijhmdEIfOdwGDwF3qWJ6h9wTprsMwahrq5NYMZ6KA/s1600/theocacity.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKv8Jn9Z6YsuoBlxturfrCiKEm3rDzIheCRtkatpxi8BTQjUl6N9f1Y4BpTjF9mKhSzgsfa-M7k-yx2ycCbknqLs_KHTH7ijhmdEIfOdwGDwF3qWJ6h9wTprsMwahrq5NYMZ6KA/s320/theocacity.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848286713009282" border="0" /></a><br />After a little while we'd had enough, and got back onto one of the main roads to take us out. Even out here we caught sight of a few more strange, endless roads going nowhere and some of the strange, naive charm of California City. We drove on out through all the empty lots.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtcY9n9C2h1285pTSg9HRa6mrY4Z5pYAV9RQnbDYRRm937-d5ESD6oqDMPb0OBNWxC7aNGUu-pmvI6n-O9PDks0N7ZgyTvhA4_1LdnoLbMenfw3HFGzuj1Grmf0gIERTcussBIw/s1600/nowheresign.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtcY9n9C2h1285pTSg9HRa6mrY4Z5pYAV9RQnbDYRRm937-d5ESD6oqDMPb0OBNWxC7aNGUu-pmvI6n-O9PDks0N7ZgyTvhA4_1LdnoLbMenfw3HFGzuj1Grmf0gIERTcussBIw/s320/nowheresign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848098298877218" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQbroH7mmW-eNtQk_SxJ7TpTzEQ0H1p7Gl4LxaXBGXV5U-I_84rYZmQt-o-v9-g1-iRDDpTMDp51wBedCNOOStSWhSGMykzBk8n7-0Pt4Wmeois4CZ7n8y8LO6saMuM955VkePQ/s1600/tsign.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQbroH7mmW-eNtQk_SxJ7TpTzEQ0H1p7Gl4LxaXBGXV5U-I_84rYZmQt-o-v9-g1-iRDDpTMDp51wBedCNOOStSWhSGMykzBk8n7-0Pt4Wmeois4CZ7n8y8LO6saMuM955VkePQ/s320/tsign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848293711742450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4mfm-vyKTOhGAg7M9q0UodT-dqOZ86F_8cDx7413tjn_5ZwexTEIu7EfvWVNsJNEDkMK0IDrvmq-9bPVHIZoylWnXroVypU5_ZRtxTPRAirIv4eyA-3sazdfP-bNkR_TuRhfkg/s1600/cacity.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4mfm-vyKTOhGAg7M9q0UodT-dqOZ86F_8cDx7413tjn_5ZwexTEIu7EfvWVNsJNEDkMK0IDrvmq-9bPVHIZoylWnXroVypU5_ZRtxTPRAirIv4eyA-3sazdfP-bNkR_TuRhfkg/s320/cacity.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535847584363751682" border="0" /></a><br />After that we made a pretty straight/circuitous <span class="il">trip</span> back home. We'd talked about going through Angeles National Forest but it was raining so hard and we were pretty tired, so we took the 14 down to the Los Angeles Area, and were home in time for a sushi lunch.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstjadvTFED_wngpiWxAyykw0THB4JXYM9inMVus5jn5AQ2NO3gjVp4AEcttPsSTlt-cfO_bJHadlDpfhZYMrjBy4J7Mkqa-4MDY_IEuWKmy8nHgbgNQgFtnCrhA5nTJAhwNpStw/s1600/wayout.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstjadvTFED_wngpiWxAyykw0THB4JXYM9inMVus5jn5AQ2NO3gjVp4AEcttPsSTlt-cfO_bJHadlDpfhZYMrjBy4J7Mkqa-4MDY_IEuWKmy8nHgbgNQgFtnCrhA5nTJAhwNpStw/s320/wayout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848301287936194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rRnqS6clKTvxY_yUASUoppiVQh2wgOfacfZ3JxXlTEKkwc-HFDP1sRY1R6ya9yRnqiTW3oBUGanlRtxwZ4JYHuabR3zO9pR29wVT1PEwDzR_XD8J13tee-SmlBMPV1kN-TE2SQ/s1600/wayhome.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rRnqS6clKTvxY_yUASUoppiVQh2wgOfacfZ3JxXlTEKkwc-HFDP1sRY1R6ya9yRnqiTW3oBUGanlRtxwZ4JYHuabR3zO9pR29wVT1PEwDzR_XD8J13tee-SmlBMPV1kN-TE2SQ/s320/wayhome.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535848300429342130" border="0" /></a>eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-20964696729746602962010-10-28T13:00:00.000-07:002010-10-28T13:52:39.828-07:00The Happiest Ghost Town on EarthTheo and I spent the night miserably shivering under our thin sheets, each worried about shutting off the air conditioning and bothering the other person. We got some sleep, but not of the highest quality.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Xh9jkyVsC_zq3i8slj3sWZNJABP922oWC_zlWR_aFNTVXlQhCTbiqQWlhfTMCobNdCaRlZZdUvE-Dc3BzzIRRU6mfA3TR514nEZYIE8sNuo-aJHuQuBvDVUT4OV-r-8K8TAhWg/s1600/needleshotel.pdf"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Xh9jkyVsC_zq3i8slj3sWZNJABP922oWC_zlWR_aFNTVXlQhCTbiqQWlhfTMCobNdCaRlZZdUvE-Dc3BzzIRRU6mfA3TR514nEZYIE8sNuo-aJHuQuBvDVUT4OV-r-8K8TAhWg/s320/needleshotel.pdf" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199429154812434" border="0" /></a><br />Since we'd gone to bed early, we got up fairly early anyway. We packed up and set out, driving through Needles on our way out. There were some quaint leftovers of time gone past, and to add to the atmosphere, trains going by. But in the end there wasn't a whole lot to see, and we got on the freeway.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrj8HkIwvF2wbArYVagM-ShojBJnwGYpZKrMLNJuOEGlwtZxq_ktF_9qHvfF-DJA7Jdq62fYBfAQyUl_SjhQ_AkRXlZBVDw8hRbBiO-PQMYuZUO-xxzH7D0TXiWqD6N3PGIeplw/s1600/needles2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrj8HkIwvF2wbArYVagM-ShojBJnwGYpZKrMLNJuOEGlwtZxq_ktF_9qHvfF-DJA7Jdq62fYBfAQyUl_SjhQ_AkRXlZBVDw8hRbBiO-PQMYuZUO-xxzH7D0TXiWqD6N3PGIeplw/s320/needles2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199426189660850" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgU5mGVAs8hZvOG0tGrD-c4Yxs75GB5b_ldK4XhLtza1jmFQUUVXMTd6cD6AP8UWN3ijIKLmG8OYEiRSoHQacTsgBzvmreuA4evqOnPGCw4mXQ-L1bt2274tFPtAqD8m-h-nDS5w/s1600/needles1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgU5mGVAs8hZvOG0tGrD-c4Yxs75GB5b_ldK4XhLtza1jmFQUUVXMTd6cD6AP8UWN3ijIKLmG8OYEiRSoHQacTsgBzvmreuA4evqOnPGCw4mXQ-L1bt2274tFPtAqD8m-h-nDS5w/s320/needles1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199421538442706" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj208jpMFLCRrSAHaggRZLWTA8LHx4F_qOQETd4i1O_bB78FCCdT0YlygeHBgoHsQ5x61iyUnI8ixdiBfFRy5E5073KAqwurU8a1Ve65FNgU_UCrYnONh6AJsW6Mav-uN5fjO6zkQ/s1600/needlestrain.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj208jpMFLCRrSAHaggRZLWTA8LHx4F_qOQETd4i1O_bB78FCCdT0YlygeHBgoHsQ5x61iyUnI8ixdiBfFRy5E5073KAqwurU8a1Ve65FNgU_UCrYnONh6AJsW6Mav-uN5fjO6zkQ/s320/needlestrain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199438739646130" border="0" /></a><br />After a few minutes on the 40 and then the 95, we got ourselves onto historic Route 66. If I'd ever been on this road, I don't remember. The first part of the road wasn't so bad, with parts that had been recently paved. There weren't too many other people driving it, so we slowed down and took pictures of the ghost-houses and structures that we'd pass from time to time. When we couldn't see any signs of life in the area we questioned the even meager population count of a few of the signs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBjAXD6Ns14a5SORs7PK0O6iT-staKVpmmZ_CwFxvt-nDWsqathNeGygHf7OJJ2YGngzsteWS7iopdaLYtGRk0ThKXbDhLi5A9cyuHX5yNLHx_HW11ldUN_57Ih-5Yju3yj5zrQ/s1600/goffs.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBjAXD6Ns14a5SORs7PK0O6iT-staKVpmmZ_CwFxvt-nDWsqathNeGygHf7OJJ2YGngzsteWS7iopdaLYtGRk0ThKXbDhLi5A9cyuHX5yNLHx_HW11ldUN_57Ih-5Yju3yj5zrQ/s320/goffs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533200911215308626" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0QpHL_WBDLk3_ZQLV7D6Sa0twgSW2DISoryRtxNR6T16KOQSzSBqlm3Nlmn4W2prE_g1TyBjkP9nA0QVPDsAGhxzttjVjBscAeQyBUFJnuANYU0ML3urpNigqfhvh_Pi0ywLbbA/s1600/graffitiruins.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0QpHL_WBDLk3_ZQLV7D6Sa0twgSW2DISoryRtxNR6T16KOQSzSBqlm3Nlmn4W2prE_g1TyBjkP9nA0QVPDsAGhxzttjVjBscAeQyBUFJnuANYU0ML3urpNigqfhvh_Pi0ywLbbA/s320/graffitiruins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533200917533204738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJPwaq16R7RMu9yGl90aefDmAw6ekHNeL02hKERU58nPhAyMZris_tLu_cBfXFL3tk9Pfazvx4Q-NuDe3j_03EqMbTkwQbHF3-AHExa8l-DQXLrJT7kpKJaKFajxeUMKLvM9CBw/s1600/ruins.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJPwaq16R7RMu9yGl90aefDmAw6ekHNeL02hKERU58nPhAyMZris_tLu_cBfXFL3tk9Pfazvx4Q-NuDe3j_03EqMbTkwQbHF3-AHExa8l-DQXLrJT7kpKJaKFajxeUMKLvM9CBw/s320/ruins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199606990638386" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I have a soft spot for modern ruins, and they kept the desert interesting.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWaL60aS7baYKMZHRdawOQncGHoBurKF3MYfzunmnU-PxmiI-Vzoa5v_XhOpOyJmJcz7pAYJOTI-wSZ3TfvWAsxU03VSDvAHlQh0gDtILrpWsJdngQqBdcvR-mk0OASBTDepxow/s1600/route66.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWaL60aS7baYKMZHRdawOQncGHoBurKF3MYfzunmnU-PxmiI-Vzoa5v_XhOpOyJmJcz7pAYJOTI-wSZ3TfvWAsxU03VSDvAHlQh0gDtILrpWsJdngQqBdcvR-mk0OASBTDepxow/s320/route66.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199601116152434" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFRDo1DPqiIKFHJa2N1qvhi_dh_dEcnh9uMkP4seRcVS9wWOvNLWNXfhuDhK2mMLE6wwzky-gfh449ThK18g2ubV3gJrq9s4rYf6cBMhrLyeYnv8ntOYyOFkWdAfnnLv7SSbUBA/s1600/roys.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFRDo1DPqiIKFHJa2N1qvhi_dh_dEcnh9uMkP4seRcVS9wWOvNLWNXfhuDhK2mMLE6wwzky-gfh449ThK18g2ubV3gJrq9s4rYf6cBMhrLyeYnv8ntOYyOFkWdAfnnLv7SSbUBA/s320/roys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533201575721848962" border="0" /></a><br />We stopped at Roy's Motel Cafe in Amboy and filled up. According to wikipedia Amboy has a population somewhere between 4 and 8, and we saw a few lively looking palm trees in the area. At the cafe we each picked up an unabashedly tourist, and amusing, Route Beer, as a souvenir from our trip.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabZ3ZXfP2AQUK9653riASgk9gN0V7Bm-d3Eyrjdo6u-Q6cRx_Fecosl17P5MId-KHssLcOL5_TopVdDf8vpznYRazAi2cnmpij9Z-RJxIJrsvROunLdrcdVs46-2JRpg735I7-A/s1600/amwaycrater.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabZ3ZXfP2AQUK9653riASgk9gN0V7Bm-d3Eyrjdo6u-Q6cRx_Fecosl17P5MId-KHssLcOL5_TopVdDf8vpznYRazAi2cnmpij9Z-RJxIJrsvROunLdrcdVs46-2JRpg735I7-A/s320/amwaycrater.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533200906632334610" border="0" /></a><br />Next stop was the Amboy Crater. In theory we could go climb it. But it was hot, and the two Ravens hovering nearby were looking a little too eager. We got back into the car and traveled further along.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJPwaq16R7RMu9yGl90aefDmAw6ekHNeL02hKERU58nPhAyMZris_tLu_cBfXFL3tk9Pfazvx4Q-NuDe3j_03EqMbTkwQbHF3-AHExa8l-DQXLrJT7kpKJaKFajxeUMKLvM9CBw/s1600/ruins.jpg"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKXEjzkGq7hRAjTGfDQnOIMC_MeNMn9ZH3jjNKZDXoKULSk0uLO22Tl-b-gjwcrNnLGo9Wfhz5E0pcZp0wYXNFbTfsj1-M0BDQtA3im4nq-O-Rx5Zx-oNdmANiLZuLX5qRuaeMQ/s1600/motelruins.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKXEjzkGq7hRAjTGfDQnOIMC_MeNMn9ZH3jjNKZDXoKULSk0uLO22Tl-b-gjwcrNnLGo9Wfhz5E0pcZp0wYXNFbTfsj1-M0BDQtA3im4nq-O-Rx5Zx-oNdmANiLZuLX5qRuaeMQ/s320/motelruins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199415994051730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgyAkzes7iSQ8GJbU4FrHnO6DeKafZU5c2UeExmso5q-RapUWdjMgDWiDLdJfFOpsinOEp0AXkXay6dST0mITKqKuoK_FzozDmQ2lEvVzzRedqAPSbOhZd_W_cKEeFuekPttxPg/s1600/route66scary.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgyAkzes7iSQ8GJbU4FrHnO6DeKafZU5c2UeExmso5q-RapUWdjMgDWiDLdJfFOpsinOEp0AXkXay6dST0mITKqKuoK_FzozDmQ2lEvVzzRedqAPSbOhZd_W_cKEeFuekPttxPg/s320/route66scary.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533201586828477826" border="0" /></a><br />Next stop was Calico. I didn't have high expectations for Calico. I'd read up and knew that most of it was reproductions build by Walter Knott (of Knott's berry farm). We paid our fee and walked up the paved road through the scattering of shack like buildings, and since we were hungry, went to the restaurant. We sat outside swatting flies, and when I saw the little train go by, I pretty much knew that my low expectations would be met.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakq208gYYiwcKROpnVFbSntqQbRkYJSd8uWwVsNf_-PVzTlczY8A8MzCfiOxYW4RC2cZ8Btc32cSqQqauRlsw1oDqIn1QlXY7GQOS1D0SQB05-CYxlCq0krRlEVJsYPXwj89nvw/s1600/littlecalicotrain.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakq208gYYiwcKROpnVFbSntqQbRkYJSd8uWwVsNf_-PVzTlczY8A8MzCfiOxYW4RC2cZ8Btc32cSqQqauRlsw1oDqIn1QlXY7GQOS1D0SQB05-CYxlCq0krRlEVJsYPXwj89nvw/s320/littlecalicotrain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533200948211687826" border="0" /></a><br />I don't want to be mean to the theme-park like ghost town. For certain people, those who are actually afraid of ghost towns, and those that need to entertain small children, Calico might be just right. But it was cute. And I don't like my ghost towns cute. I want to be creeped out. And having already been to Bodie, which I would return to in a heartbeat, Calico didn't have great chances of usurping it's place in my heart anyway.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUlntakcQAy9isSZzR96gUxVsx8vguu-HhEC6f4LiSWJTJCZ4RW5bhOHE1Y5QfeX3uMBBm8fKhEPNHdZWg1DkbRO-FKXilxzh6pHRLsixyh9fnjeqAkphc8MnpaZAOChyphenhyphenZaS-Tg/s1600/theocalico.jpg"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSvFYCYfEF34vbNXf7Lt-31-h-pXJ1ui7qsOv6l_8wTJD8NJ5GUPYyzwv-G-duCO7Grdrjr5rUQwcp1cYk1fd413xT73HBgZNWD3Fitq3qLF3xufVOa61pqgx6fxsXiQg8XlLw3g/s1600/saracalico.jpg"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0dvJX7Q9AQouDncZXs0OHTXkiEFHM2AgBpJmdleEy3KYIGgMNfUvxcBjwyH8egT-_mUYIlC4N6448vwggFmG0Tu4E791jGhZiG6RiUWt7L5MvxzKm9hnDppG6kUEuQRcbfLJvw/s1600/poison.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0dvJX7Q9AQouDncZXs0OHTXkiEFHM2AgBpJmdleEy3KYIGgMNfUvxcBjwyH8egT-_mUYIlC4N6448vwggFmG0Tu4E791jGhZiG6RiUWt7L5MvxzKm9hnDppG6kUEuQRcbfLJvw/s320/poison.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199596519859122" border="0" /></a><br />But the food was very good, though we worried about what it would do to our insides. After wards we made a brief trek through the little town, but didn't linger too long. We noted with amusement that we seemed to be the only people who spoke english, a majority of the visitors were from tour buses.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSvFYCYfEF34vbNXf7Lt-31-h-pXJ1ui7qsOv6l_8wTJD8NJ5GUPYyzwv-G-duCO7Grdrjr5rUQwcp1cYk1fd413xT73HBgZNWD3Fitq3qLF3xufVOa61pqgx6fxsXiQg8XlLw3g/s1600/saracalico.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSvFYCYfEF34vbNXf7Lt-31-h-pXJ1ui7qsOv6l_8wTJD8NJ5GUPYyzwv-G-duCO7Grdrjr5rUQwcp1cYk1fd413xT73HBgZNWD3Fitq3qLF3xufVOa61pqgx6fxsXiQg8XlLw3g/s320/saracalico.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199612296133170" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUlntakcQAy9isSZzR96gUxVsx8vguu-HhEC6f4LiSWJTJCZ4RW5bhOHE1Y5QfeX3uMBBm8fKhEPNHdZWg1DkbRO-FKXilxzh6pHRLsixyh9fnjeqAkphc8MnpaZAOChyphenhyphenZaS-Tg/s1600/theocalico.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUlntakcQAy9isSZzR96gUxVsx8vguu-HhEC6f4LiSWJTJCZ4RW5bhOHE1Y5QfeX3uMBBm8fKhEPNHdZWg1DkbRO-FKXilxzh6pHRLsixyh9fnjeqAkphc8MnpaZAOChyphenhyphenZaS-Tg/s320/theocalico.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533199618731987362" border="0" /></a><br />Luckily the car wasn't too boiling hot when we got inside and headed for Barstow. It was still early afternoon but we decided to take it easy. Theo had been talking about taking a dip in the swimming pool, but two things got in the way of that. One, it was the size of an enlarged kiddy pool. Two, it's location as centerpiece to the parking lot.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif85E0P-TIX_6IdgKWlPYJMyc5bwoPMsJqAOyUFw0cz9sNfK8u9nIVxTvixNo4Hl1I9SYSHsB2udN4blB7voWbjbGu6-FDDhWolQE8mU7C-2NpQdGOSuZc6jeJWX3c_otGNf7VfA/s1600/littlepool.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif85E0P-TIX_6IdgKWlPYJMyc5bwoPMsJqAOyUFw0cz9sNfK8u9nIVxTvixNo4Hl1I9SYSHsB2udN4blB7voWbjbGu6-FDDhWolQE8mU7C-2NpQdGOSuZc6jeJWX3c_otGNf7VfA/s320/littlepool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533201036414425650" border="0" /></a><br />Still, we decided to go in anyway. But Theo's days of gleefully jumping into frigidly cold water are apparently over, and he daintily sat with his feet in the water for a few minutes. I made it up to my belly. We'd had enough.<br /><br />We relaxed for the rest of afternoon, knitting and listening to Penny Arcade's D&D podcasts, letting our legs relax. Though somewhat traumatized by the heavy meals we'd indulged in, Barstow didn't have a lot to offer in the way of light, salad dining. We opted to go to a local place well-reviewed on Yelp, Lola's Kitchen. After feasting on delicious and cheap tacos and quesadillas, we went back to the hotel to take it easy for the rest of the evening.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnsg68wxuxGKegtI0I5L0P5R7AeCFmD8xQu_t37ezsdvz-WsThKnfUZoOVmrEYF8JB-AXf1NP8iyyj5Ab-uY-NnV4jDnH61hvMf5enET8xv-m8pW9udmV6O2OtMRSnQsr7WBOGQ/s1600/hungry.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnsg68wxuxGKegtI0I5L0P5R7AeCFmD8xQu_t37ezsdvz-WsThKnfUZoOVmrEYF8JB-AXf1NP8iyyj5Ab-uY-NnV4jDnH61hvMf5enET8xv-m8pW9udmV6O2OtMRSnQsr7WBOGQ/s320/hungry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533200938652555698" border="0" /></a><br />We made a vow that if either of us were freezing in the night, they were allowed to turn the air conditioning off.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-65517747085931064452010-10-25T07:35:00.000-07:002010-10-25T08:09:33.758-07:00It's a Long Way to Needles...We set out about a half an hour later than we'd meant to, owed in part to Theo sleeping in and me not being prepared at all and still recovering from the surreal experience of my High School Reunion the night before. In Santa Monica the air was thick with fog, damp and cold and atmospheric. As we made our way east on the 10, the mist thickened into rain here and there, and the dense fog took out buildings and made the sky ominous.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEEvtuHYjG3n5Sf1AptS6kBB9JdFVmhY9O6WlStBboH2yO05aUNwbpiagr7nON43I1CkWaO8w5EMOOrmH206H96Al1VcU3lRdIedyUFee8-Shv55mm3sX49Zv_eGFT7bNDkMcpbQ/s1600/skydarkandominous.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEEvtuHYjG3n5Sf1AptS6kBB9JdFVmhY9O6WlStBboH2yO05aUNwbpiagr7nON43I1CkWaO8w5EMOOrmH206H96Al1VcU3lRdIedyUFee8-Shv55mm3sX49Zv_eGFT7bNDkMcpbQ/s320/skydarkandominous.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999747189247170" border="0" /></a><br />When we got far enough east we broke free of the gloom and the sun hit us. We stared at the wind farms, entranced by the spinning blades, and missed our exit to get onto the 62.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5mjwzmL6cVWiZN0BcUdPo0HF50q9JIIEq3rmpfdJGl9a1q6heKyo40geG-_-8aXFzx3XloSLKkm5D9IzkBjnHq2WpOqqnNEOi1yexK76PZqSyoO34SWqXmfD1UO5LKexw-rVig/s1600/windfarm.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5mjwzmL6cVWiZN0BcUdPo0HF50q9JIIEq3rmpfdJGl9a1q6heKyo40geG-_-8aXFzx3XloSLKkm5D9IzkBjnHq2WpOqqnNEOi1yexK76PZqSyoO34SWqXmfD1UO5LKexw-rVig/s320/windfarm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999881785814690" border="0" /></a><br />Realizing this about 10 minutes later we turned around and stopped at a nearby In-N-Out for the traditional road-trip lunch. We got back on the road, admired the wind farm again, and got onto the 62. A few little towns lined the road, and I wasn't entirely certain whether we were seeing towns trying to be quaint, or actual quaintness. I suspected the latter. Theo and I also discussed living in the desert -- something he could imagine doing and I had little interest in.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeac2pSjinKwBsdQvePpaSzn68ubiLJVV2BgHMDAomjuQrD8ILqTHhXlgb279EAjJYwVYf17VY_qBm7VdTqKHoAGIXtu-4jsHXC-2HM8TiEPxK_rxAnpRCN4u4U8MWI03Loyp6g/s1600/theodesert.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeac2pSjinKwBsdQvePpaSzn68ubiLJVV2BgHMDAomjuQrD8ILqTHhXlgb279EAjJYwVYf17VY_qBm7VdTqKHoAGIXtu-4jsHXC-2HM8TiEPxK_rxAnpRCN4u4U8MWI03Loyp6g/s320/theodesert.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999877507266978" border="0" /></a><br />Nervous and over-eager after his failure to get us onto the 62, Theo attempted to take us to the Joshua Tree Memorial Lawn, thinking it was the entrance to the actual park. Not interested in viewing the cemetery, I stopped him before we could actually turn in and we made the correct turn a few minutes later.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4AsyVhu6Y9fw_DgQpyHbtN1heRlY-ERETnX_xVD_No4kwPzTzNwyh5jLxn2iBA0R9eaz4Hyy5-2dy3XmKWYbLs_L2-FDaR8rfDqIqD_AV-gmLR7CdyQlTgxfCHOjm6UN9Zr0JrA/s1600/cloudcover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4AsyVhu6Y9fw_DgQpyHbtN1heRlY-ERETnX_xVD_No4kwPzTzNwyh5jLxn2iBA0R9eaz4Hyy5-2dy3XmKWYbLs_L2-FDaR8rfDqIqD_AV-gmLR7CdyQlTgxfCHOjm6UN9Zr0JrA/s320/cloudcover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999524827576706" border="0" /></a><br />Per our discussion earlier, I dreaded getting out of the car and into the hot sun a little. But when we stepped outside I got a pleasant surprise -- cloud cover. The sky was a beautiful shade of dark blue that photographs fantastically, and thin sheets of clouds kept the sun from searing our skin. We stopped a few times at different pull offs before making the commitment to hike at Hidden Valley, an easy 1 mile hike with little grade. I admired the colors of the foliage and the blue of the sky. The rocks and rock-climbers were kind of interesting too -- but I've never been a big rock person.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHnlDEeaWDmS-xmzODBQWm4hYDw1Fj7lZmfrMY1oliwrb-2S4mIXAsb2gvJZuteBmm79tzEwHQ1wxuGEV11ntwCKAyZib9U5hq_ShsskgNP1r0LtsXk2DwxxD05LV77Qk1kGl1A/s1600/tbigrocks.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHnlDEeaWDmS-xmzODBQWm4hYDw1Fj7lZmfrMY1oliwrb-2S4mIXAsb2gvJZuteBmm79tzEwHQ1wxuGEV11ntwCKAyZib9U5hq_ShsskgNP1r0LtsXk2DwxxD05LV77Qk1kGl1A/s320/tbigrocks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999770887759906" border="0" /></a><br />As we came back towards the beginning a large, dark form broke free from some bushes to our left.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VHvFbFFEV5-8zt5lJ4zS9ZLIUYj5TZu_TmyTs_husemcCxX3_mx5YeUzyylaoPtrrVZoU0n6xxgV2J7DLIlGcavuO6gsFJEVFyDfpqCL1AgHDlI1VGE-h6kzKcpbr7JR3SfzBg/s1600/tarantula.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VHvFbFFEV5-8zt5lJ4zS9ZLIUYj5TZu_TmyTs_husemcCxX3_mx5YeUzyylaoPtrrVZoU0n6xxgV2J7DLIlGcavuO6gsFJEVFyDfpqCL1AgHDlI1VGE-h6kzKcpbr7JR3SfzBg/s320/tarantula.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999760136576274" border="0" /></a><br />Theo was both interested and terrified, and once I pointed it out to nearby travelers the tarantula had a whole group of admirers taking it's photo. Satisfied with a few photos taken at a distance, Theo and I moved on. We paused, and were confused by, the Wonderland of Rocks. Which looked a lot like the other rocks we had seen. So we continued on to Barker Dam. Signposts along the way were a little less than helpful, but we made it to the mostly-dry dam anyway.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW9DYmMOMDjn_klhLnUzHROFoamkRkrNimM6yblEU1TonGJvAhaBmXbnHMEF-RL0aGPeKSNJAJY6-AUFlKKpnfJqDo-kTD_tkezOFlFSFrpD8GPpLtLenI__Qai6pKSllSqaWJKw/s1600/barkerdam.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW9DYmMOMDjn_klhLnUzHROFoamkRkrNimM6yblEU1TonGJvAhaBmXbnHMEF-RL0aGPeKSNJAJY6-AUFlKKpnfJqDo-kTD_tkezOFlFSFrpD8GPpLtLenI__Qai6pKSllSqaWJKw/s320/barkerdam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999519478832034" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDP9I5k2MauHOw-F1fQfqeSuVqDxPA2EKNX7stCOB3_xJ0IQH1lKqC19BNIjuXR4XbgEliIcbRS0eYlz3xM85WVJnOZ7adoA9nFRflMHlbAPIuDIFLzgOX0mpZJBmjjOWw6Q-vGg/s1600/tbarkerdam.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDP9I5k2MauHOw-F1fQfqeSuVqDxPA2EKNX7stCOB3_xJ0IQH1lKqC19BNIjuXR4XbgEliIcbRS0eYlz3xM85WVJnOZ7adoA9nFRflMHlbAPIuDIFLzgOX0mpZJBmjjOWw6Q-vGg/s320/tbarkerdam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999765626068082" border="0" /></a><br />I took a few scenic shots. Further on we found the petroglyphs, and a pair of hikers who were sitting in them and ruining most photo-ops.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxJmMAGkjzXJe93Tio6bh6rEabWptO6lpGVglmJSMaaPBFlm1tPL0fvMlBoQdC5PLCzFqYq2Kq7WPuzC0qYh-G59w56W1CU2j_OrjjGbEYKmMSYJne1mwBLyiMiopMr_-V6-PnA/s1600/petroglyphs.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxJmMAGkjzXJe93Tio6bh6rEabWptO6lpGVglmJSMaaPBFlm1tPL0fvMlBoQdC5PLCzFqYq2Kq7WPuzC0qYh-G59w56W1CU2j_OrjjGbEYKmMSYJne1mwBLyiMiopMr_-V6-PnA/s320/petroglyphs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999743112239954" border="0" /></a><br />We got back to the car and hit the road again. After a brief, exciting section of unpaved road we were at the exit and back out on the 62. And we hit the most desolate road in CA.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9_KbhYmgMfQ_r6teeIDN44NsTTvBrXIlpjWTdtIHphTJ2vT1N_ZFTCpbUK_C_XdJB1dCAVtLIYU7hsGuMaYa5pxjxc8A-qyZNx2JtncFUPDZwvhTPRkdrEeJ_RzIOsiHMTl1xgw/s1600/desolate.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9_KbhYmgMfQ_r6teeIDN44NsTTvBrXIlpjWTdtIHphTJ2vT1N_ZFTCpbUK_C_XdJB1dCAVtLIYU7hsGuMaYa5pxjxc8A-qyZNx2JtncFUPDZwvhTPRkdrEeJ_RzIOsiHMTl1xgw/s320/desolate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999538691606034" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkJqFWxtM1cbgH9bVaf1ITtoWfwWCl_wbAMxeF4G0p942lx-AbC0eQfMBYN_tUJUpSy1gEjG_bGpGC_BoJh-VUBYY2V5H9yiu4R8uNjGIe1FkeSMZDjtHALGkcObyzooMdAdCug/s1600/desertsunset.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkJqFWxtM1cbgH9bVaf1ITtoWfwWCl_wbAMxeF4G0p942lx-AbC0eQfMBYN_tUJUpSy1gEjG_bGpGC_BoJh-VUBYY2V5H9yiu4R8uNjGIe1FkeSMZDjtHALGkcObyzooMdAdCug/s320/desertsunset.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999535161403762" border="0" /></a><br />We put on the Penny-Arcade D&D podcasts, I pulled out my knitting, and for a long time we drove through empty desert. We saw a lot more people heading in the other direction -- maybe going home after a weekend in Vegas? And the sun set over the brittle, desert mountains, turning them pink. After a few hours we were in Needles, and at our hotel. The man who checked me directed me to the two dinner options in the area -- Mexican or Dominoes.<br /><br />After leaving our stuff in the spacious but nondescript room we went out to the Mexican place. In a previous life it might have belonged to a fast-food chain. Guessing that the ambiance inside wouldn't be much, we hit the drive through and both got cheese enchiladas and orange drinks. Theo explained to me how during his traveling days he drank mostly water to be cheap, but treated himself to orange fanta on occasion. To this day Orange fanta is his travel drink.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXrRYiwgHSw3rEU6vDuO5b1Dbjy7gjQ34hGXmYTY1gjIOeNHNgrji5NW1BoehQ9pnMQBGG0E-wLtDDmAo_QUq_FJ8T99gBkG2VKAWLPhr0jhawSdhZzLPrMkYIZuHF-ya0QoHTw/s1600/dinnerday1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXrRYiwgHSw3rEU6vDuO5b1Dbjy7gjQ34hGXmYTY1gjIOeNHNgrji5NW1BoehQ9pnMQBGG0E-wLtDDmAo_QUq_FJ8T99gBkG2VKAWLPhr0jhawSdhZzLPrMkYIZuHF-ya0QoHTw/s320/dinnerday1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531999550906429506" border="0" /></a><br />At our hotel we dug into cheap, saucy Mexican food and enjoyed it. We lay across our beds, watched some Better Off Ted, and went to sleep around 9:30pm with some sheepishness, the roar of the AC loud even to my hearing-impaired ears.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-13227268608856413502010-07-22T18:38:00.000-07:002010-07-22T19:04:47.396-07:00The Last Day...<span style="font-style: italic;">(originally drafted 7/8/10)</span><br /><br />Our last full day went by too fast. I slept in, and when I woke up I was startled to discover we had a new roommate. The kitty moved too fast for me to get a good photo, apparently he didn't want to split the hotel fees, and somehow got out by climbing between the roof and the walls.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rVWUYvP153gAv1QOj6lzJqVDUI_ofDDc9WJ6Rr5y1k_Awe0zc8Rz968QdjxXrlHb8uLThh5fX1V-0rIKxjG7-7z1h90ccR8N0PtxGHAwYzCD0_YtA06cNBYNTpj7VGB964E6Mw/s1600/IMG_0502.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rVWUYvP153gAv1QOj6lzJqVDUI_ofDDc9WJ6Rr5y1k_Awe0zc8Rz968QdjxXrlHb8uLThh5fX1V-0rIKxjG7-7z1h90ccR8N0PtxGHAwYzCD0_YtA06cNBYNTpj7VGB964E6Mw/s320/IMG_0502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496911705583025922" border="0" /></a><br />After that excitement we decided to walk to the Tulum ruins, but took a detour to stalk some crabs. At first we had little luck. I got too close to one that looked dead, thinking I had an easy subject, and it scuttled off. The rest we spotted were too far away to photograph. We walked a while and then decided to turn back, hoping a few more would have come out behind us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW7X-1eciRNSGLEm7wPQWDCIylrWTK6XSv4mxk6JhVd1ODsGq5IUGd4EsqH8HdZ0HxqbRpoA97eUBkILr5dHeoUC6MsdUL7NiEBVXmhQKk2JRXtT-qFnQ3wW0KIcKvGf3AyXWEQ/s1600/IMG_0516.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW7X-1eciRNSGLEm7wPQWDCIylrWTK6XSv4mxk6JhVd1ODsGq5IUGd4EsqH8HdZ0HxqbRpoA97eUBkILr5dHeoUC6MsdUL7NiEBVXmhQKk2JRXtT-qFnQ3wW0KIcKvGf3AyXWEQ/s320/IMG_0516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496911714406917314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIa3yD7uUq8_JrbDJ7K9_TGfMkY6ds1hsxRaST6SAbrczb6JUAoP721DoYMXZ1AILbYpdoo3jpEFFBvi_fKbBD4wfV9QsRPUWx0RcNshp6dEvgTwWs8YvpI2Y8b5MjIZpmmF28Q/s1600/IMG_0518.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIa3yD7uUq8_JrbDJ7K9_TGfMkY6ds1hsxRaST6SAbrczb6JUAoP721DoYMXZ1AILbYpdoo3jpEFFBvi_fKbBD4wfV9QsRPUWx0RcNshp6dEvgTwWs8YvpI2Y8b5MjIZpmmF28Q/s320/IMG_0518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496911722378689906" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxsebdNEH-gFjvco_PSH0jCPvRFIv3ja2FMzYg8xssQtsTrErMVRXGldFrVhhZ7EAh-H6oCJ9SElUriZbSwakpQ5btt-955PerFFiqxbPuNp2qFUWL-zoABBNSBF5DYGelX8XTw/s1600/IMG_0520.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxsebdNEH-gFjvco_PSH0jCPvRFIv3ja2FMzYg8xssQtsTrErMVRXGldFrVhhZ7EAh-H6oCJ9SElUriZbSwakpQ5btt-955PerFFiqxbPuNp2qFUWL-zoABBNSBF5DYGelX8XTw/s320/IMG_0520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496911733098679010" border="0" /></a><br />We struck Mayan gold at this one puddle in the road. We got pictures (the ones posted earlier are actually from this trip), and video. We discovered if we stood still enough, the crabs would come over to investigate if we were rocks worth hiding behind. Too close for my taste, since they move like giant mechanized spiders.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwLTxFoN0dM7RGQgxhn3cbEWb1PrG-rdNkZU05LNtRYZa1QpImjuisY2c1-2NZitsLqA9zNzx2cUn4' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><br />Pleased with our amateur nature photography, we started down the road to the ruins. We walked, and walked, and walked... The ruins were much further away than we expected and we ran out of water on our way there. We tried to get there on the beach side and discovered we couldn't, forcing us to then double back.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPPtSkbHyNB8dkA6QT7sSfna-7GI9TncOXWUydIpkA0iy8abmQdRoItdrOJHGH1_6LwaLdX587CIlpuK12rdU3f8aEnlvPXVVezIupQFxFVVYIfVcCjN3Mx727GyTfNZ_amJlyQ/s1600/IMG_0535.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPPtSkbHyNB8dkA6QT7sSfna-7GI9TncOXWUydIpkA0iy8abmQdRoItdrOJHGH1_6LwaLdX587CIlpuK12rdU3f8aEnlvPXVVezIupQFxFVVYIfVcCjN3Mx727GyTfNZ_amJlyQ/s320/IMG_0535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496914441693115202" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXBAFTNyFz6HS6unhpepVPd9QEpxniKzYHZwzuXvtr5IsKM6Fk0fCYH4KQcyJt0tPRe3yHwDf4I8EuuK8KbomNee88Hdgvmg2vXc8pauVbCxuxuTwoYiCoErvZfLL4IiXNiHJeQ/s1600/IMG_0532.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXBAFTNyFz6HS6unhpepVPd9QEpxniKzYHZwzuXvtr5IsKM6Fk0fCYH4KQcyJt0tPRe3yHwDf4I8EuuK8KbomNee88Hdgvmg2vXc8pauVbCxuxuTwoYiCoErvZfLL4IiXNiHJeQ/s320/IMG_0532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496911745668981666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRczrbfv0kKXfBchnWF0yprLKvrUo09966nlAD5eNkyMILWxA2hyoUF3e-DUWM-Q8cXsWiQ0p61BOEFZpOpvVdxzyZReIgfQtB96B9jJ0YOy6KN3IzvAdMY4S-Ei0iRFEIOCDWXA/s1600/IMG_0543.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRczrbfv0kKXfBchnWF0yprLKvrUo09966nlAD5eNkyMILWxA2hyoUF3e-DUWM-Q8cXsWiQ0p61BOEFZpOpvVdxzyZReIgfQtB96B9jJ0YOy6KN3IzvAdMY4S-Ei0iRFEIOCDWXA/s320/IMG_0543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496914449237413810" border="0" /></a><br />We finally got there and went inside -- only to discover we were at the only Mayan site we'd been to where they *weren't* selling refrescos all over the place. We made a rather quick tour of the Mayan Port, decided not to go into the crowded stretch of ocean, and left.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZkueibANvrivRYKUunlIw-oIDXJi87wMBh7hG9Mcj0q9Jdt4czro2gVSnot2_hYhp76n1D5E8AbYZraOnPfxkipIeRY7xq50zxrDCO-MnUjulksh-1LQydYZxyprrJtL7_91hVQ/s1600/IMG_0547.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZkueibANvrivRYKUunlIw-oIDXJi87wMBh7hG9Mcj0q9Jdt4czro2gVSnot2_hYhp76n1D5E8AbYZraOnPfxkipIeRY7xq50zxrDCO-MnUjulksh-1LQydYZxyprrJtL7_91hVQ/s320/IMG_0547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496914457159464018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFtIBL5gRs83DozlOMSichAWuLIdlH8TarYSaJI10nUA6TBmyuErIAt0KmnaNu1Xb8G0WmXiqd7cSUZB0nmslHAbZEQOJ-xjYw7qA9VlYeXrz7h_1PD4N5KVJTLpec8gSVTe7xw/s1600/IMG_0552.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFtIBL5gRs83DozlOMSichAWuLIdlH8TarYSaJI10nUA6TBmyuErIAt0KmnaNu1Xb8G0WmXiqd7cSUZB0nmslHAbZEQOJ-xjYw7qA9VlYeXrz7h_1PD4N5KVJTLpec8gSVTe7xw/s320/IMG_0552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496915928156067218" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF58EAlyJbLMCSBHXcDJHI3jE2Jri-XYPii8L7bwSRwcg84dmompZqC2ZEqWsL8YuIetESbC3Al2CdReuQDCXaUyu_QqeMX5PvO9S3DnkehYT8aKs_HocuDze0ul9JxU7GXqPcAA/s1600/IMG_0560.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF58EAlyJbLMCSBHXcDJHI3jE2Jri-XYPii8L7bwSRwcg84dmompZqC2ZEqWsL8YuIetESbC3Al2CdReuQDCXaUyu_QqeMX5PvO9S3DnkehYT8aKs_HocuDze0ul9JxU7GXqPcAA/s320/IMG_0560.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496915924420346178" border="0" /></a><br />Back at the hotel we indulged in fun drink and guacamole. About ten minutes after I needed a nap. I lay down and didn't get up for about two hours.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIjjGOsq-j9zG7Sk-_mRX1ZJ5__sH-b5pKKyxXEhhLZcMnF899OZcGqcixvRk3M1SjZG4RJl2WlcNtdB460_y6hTPdfjxo1Cd0pwr1TQ1m9pMUA3dG0-D3nkMx1IcyIYhCZEtig/s1600/IMG_0566.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIjjGOsq-j9zG7Sk-_mRX1ZJ5__sH-b5pKKyxXEhhLZcMnF899OZcGqcixvRk3M1SjZG4RJl2WlcNtdB460_y6hTPdfjxo1Cd0pwr1TQ1m9pMUA3dG0-D3nkMx1IcyIYhCZEtig/s320/IMG_0566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496914468473534802" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqrt6szduvzwhJDPU6IfB3KFjBFpCXomkfrhs7I68z3-YHwJlR4JHDlbArgKgWuD_J3jIq9XvSFIhyphenhyphenmMbGdzs_3AXzB7IYu0cinQqtf4BWVbjzchwltiYOSq5ZG2LT20XcnbdTFA/s1600/IMG_0571.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqrt6szduvzwhJDPU6IfB3KFjBFpCXomkfrhs7I68z3-YHwJlR4JHDlbArgKgWuD_J3jIq9XvSFIhyphenhyphenmMbGdzs_3AXzB7IYu0cinQqtf4BWVbjzchwltiYOSq5ZG2LT20XcnbdTFA/s320/IMG_0571.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496914476515981970" border="0" /></a><br />When I managed to revive myself we went in the ocean for a nice, long swim. Staying until our fingers pruned. Tech Support didn't want to get out, not wanting to end the moment.<br /><br />But we got out and headed into Tulum for postage stamps and dinner. Tech Support asked a lady at the supermarket pharmacy for "estamp" and sent her pouring through medications. When she realized what he actually wanted, "estampas", she smiled and shook her head. We wondered what kind of treatment she'd thought he needed.<br /><br />We found success at another pharmacy and then continued down the road to dinner. We discovered an Italian place that had been recommended to us, and decided to eat there.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-TgES8nuvi76scrbPTEIvW45aBZHVNCFFnlM3FmQYtXxJ5nDbbhZTUGV7TXJnapwMa_o_ymWJnYSZhCuleS0SSyhNBL1D29NGL68qpmavuW9D7SjZbBvGanR71WKHrJoi_d9kg/s1600/IMG_0573.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-TgES8nuvi76scrbPTEIvW45aBZHVNCFFnlM3FmQYtXxJ5nDbbhZTUGV7TXJnapwMa_o_ymWJnYSZhCuleS0SSyhNBL1D29NGL68qpmavuW9D7SjZbBvGanR71WKHrJoi_d9kg/s320/IMG_0573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496915949813335842" border="0" /></a><br />The food was delicious. I impressed the owner by ordering a gin and tonic while Tech Support failed to impress with his order of lemonade. We sat and talked about our trip and going home and adventures. The store across the street kept the moment from getting too serious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTr4lpaUGv6pq6LRQAQVs8teEohBVvcN7GPdWVLbS6zJ13ZeQOc9NM3hiYqNslfTC3kfUO7DwwhFu5GAxJwt5-ZHU6PZ17-SWP3Ktit3KsDALJDgDFkNBN4xvTtfhhnktwxz5LGw/s1600/IMG_0572.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTr4lpaUGv6pq6LRQAQVs8teEohBVvcN7GPdWVLbS6zJ13ZeQOc9NM3hiYqNslfTC3kfUO7DwwhFu5GAxJwt5-ZHU6PZ17-SWP3Ktit3KsDALJDgDFkNBN4xvTtfhhnktwxz5LGw/s320/IMG_0572.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496915939604202146" border="0" /></a>eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-86977380831550601122010-07-15T19:19:00.000-07:002010-07-15T22:52:04.438-07:00Rainy Days and Mayans Always Get Me...<span style="font-style: italic;">(Originally drafted 7/7/10)</span><br /><br />Yesterday I met the naked man from the next cabana over. Turns out he's from Whitehorse Canada, in the Yukon. Which explains why he wants to go to warm places and take all his clothes off. He and his wife, who stayed more conservative in a bathing suit, signed up for the same tour that would take us to Chichen Itza, a cenote, and a colonial-style village.<br /><br />We started in the pouring rain in Tulum. A short man named Florencio dictated the order of the day in English accented with Spanish and Mayan (his mother tongue). He and our driver, Robert, who had great English and a good sense of humor, were only there to transfer us from Copal to the larger tour. Too bad, because we quite liked them and got to know them while we waited for the tour bus in the parking lot of a super market. We had a little while, since the inclement weather was slowing things down.<br /><br />Once we got on the larger bus it was about 2 and a half hours to Chichen Itza. Our tour guide, gave a long bilingual speech about the history of the Mayans and Chichen Itza. We stopped at a tourist trap to stretch our legs, and avoided buying any Mayan calendars.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2HGNfSHzon9UW-aJy1D7KwgFe_Vqu2pIVeLKBbaqlXFhZejt7wLK1LXVaDxkohM6AP8z_LfUONY9nOBgtcggSUproOsI1YHFoqUY2C-U9bQ7HrPcmdQggC0YbknRj0YD9ECuyA/s1600/IMG_0427.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2HGNfSHzon9UW-aJy1D7KwgFe_Vqu2pIVeLKBbaqlXFhZejt7wLK1LXVaDxkohM6AP8z_LfUONY9nOBgtcggSUproOsI1YHFoqUY2C-U9bQ7HrPcmdQggC0YbknRj0YD9ECuyA/s320/IMG_0427.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494372616749699442" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2bvhRARVpqCQ6fhQHV-llo7xivAMg25L0k9NUKBVn-XF_MQ0mj7MJGChXtKvaW3ftZzyS5aOShK4VK5nZs4mmCkPJxHhemuZBotC0Tebk5ATdPNMUEHv6pUsiAqCbSekv0zIvkQ/s1600/IMG_0425.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2bvhRARVpqCQ6fhQHV-llo7xivAMg25L0k9NUKBVn-XF_MQ0mj7MJGChXtKvaW3ftZzyS5aOShK4VK5nZs4mmCkPJxHhemuZBotC0Tebk5ATdPNMUEHv6pUsiAqCbSekv0zIvkQ/s320/IMG_0425.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494372610460601954" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JaGayUMUhJqW9d1CCXWV86gnqQ0lsEWidA1_LOQz1WQj3EWvmBXhJmERgwzPAnFfPY2FFEj87FyglxEToqou5audszfXjgFptl6jVBtykHaIOMeErnypcu00aAAuC-Q2PYThSg/s1600/IMG_0440.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JaGayUMUhJqW9d1CCXWV86gnqQ0lsEWidA1_LOQz1WQj3EWvmBXhJmERgwzPAnFfPY2FFEj87FyglxEToqou5audszfXjgFptl6jVBtykHaIOMeErnypcu00aAAuC-Q2PYThSg/s320/IMG_0440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494372626112551458" border="0" /></a><br />It was raining at Chichen Itza but the air was still hot. We struggled to hear our guide, but I enjoyed what little information I caught. We learned the Chichen Itza is actually smaller than Coba (which apparently was the capital city), but far more cleared of jungle. Visitors can no longer climb the main pyramid, which was okay with me since my legs were sore from the day before. Getting in and out of the bus even hurt.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0HlxKkTygbAz5OJvg_J7Jerheft_OuC50AORX65Bg_0J5XnTAKyt6F-qFvdpzVA26xDHfb7PaVhyphenhyphenuRLJs8QGT3br3bBFbaKlP5BN10hxhba9OjwxpaQXgd_jibBo3jORD2wl1w/s1600/IMG_0436.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0HlxKkTygbAz5OJvg_J7Jerheft_OuC50AORX65Bg_0J5XnTAKyt6F-qFvdpzVA26xDHfb7PaVhyphenhyphenuRLJs8QGT3br3bBFbaKlP5BN10hxhba9OjwxpaQXgd_jibBo3jORD2wl1w/s320/IMG_0436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494374478774580866" border="0" /></a><br />My favorite part were the stone carvings, and the hook-nosed serpent imagery, which reminded me of my studies of ancient Chinese art. I also found the Mayan spiritual basketball courts very interesting. They were shaped differently than the ones at Coba, with straight walls rather than slanted ones.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WOUMI45G7uq_dBXBsgjN9MoRRDy840v7J27tHFTggRscsZQM2tvqtwarKWKLO3scq__KKNFeWsgVXnepFG5CNxDwtuSF6O72rgE0eSIETW3BAIa8niEDMtDO4F40U0ddPcuE1Q/s1600/IMG_0417.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WOUMI45G7uq_dBXBsgjN9MoRRDy840v7J27tHFTggRscsZQM2tvqtwarKWKLO3scq__KKNFeWsgVXnepFG5CNxDwtuSF6O72rgE0eSIETW3BAIa8niEDMtDO4F40U0ddPcuE1Q/s320/IMG_0417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494372603307721250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDe1tGLq0Tl6foHY0VioU2Ykmt0VtlPPYyLd9FQKxQ4UNbqOa3iNc3jCsOYMN5QF8KS-N9m1zoxZFsE_cBfbkZjC_796T7FZSSl3YbgfWYGZSyUUn2tYlxXMnw_M8qBcwfEanSA/s1600/IMG_0442.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDe1tGLq0Tl6foHY0VioU2Ykmt0VtlPPYyLd9FQKxQ4UNbqOa3iNc3jCsOYMN5QF8KS-N9m1zoxZFsE_cBfbkZjC_796T7FZSSl3YbgfWYGZSyUUn2tYlxXMnw_M8qBcwfEanSA/s320/IMG_0442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494372637622733954" border="0" /></a><br />After an hour the tour guide stopped to let us go on our own. We left the other group, some of whom seemed more interested in posing in front of the ruins than the ruins themselves, and wandered without real direction. Tech Support pondered over why a city would be abandoned. I suggested that the main industry had moved on. I admired the iguanas and birds of the area. We shook our heads at the men trying to sell us $1 wooden masks. We discussed that Inspector Gadget episode that everyone of a certain generation must have seen, that involved Mayan pyramids. We pondered the selflessness of the Penny character, she never seemed to mind Gadget getting all the credit. And how was Gadget her Uncle?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfcYNi0I_EHDtBcqpi6zAueygAwQXQvtSpnZXb2pkoJWNsO6JU3Xt5CISLKY0vAOWYWU7_bHrl7eaJb4avXmsuBk9j3irS5V4_B1xJgqCxImqeFJCt0KwoGRIir0urO7QdJwPoQ/s1600/IMG_0454.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfcYNi0I_EHDtBcqpi6zAueygAwQXQvtSpnZXb2pkoJWNsO6JU3Xt5CISLKY0vAOWYWU7_bHrl7eaJb4avXmsuBk9j3irS5V4_B1xJgqCxImqeFJCt0KwoGRIir0urO7QdJwPoQ/s320/IMG_0454.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494374486631849202" border="0" /></a><br />After checking out the sacrificial cenote, we headed back to the bus, stopping only for souvenirs and post cards. We boarded the bus and drove a short distance for lunch.<br /><br />We sat and ate lunch with our Cabana neighbors and enjoyed their company more than the food. The rice and beans okay, the tacos decent, and the spaghetti strange with a tomato sauce that tended toward soup. While we ate three women danced, a funny tap routine with beer bottles balanced on their heads. As we left they stood by the door with a hat for tips, and I noticed I was a good head taller than all of them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsPyNPns3rbQdZDEun6VW4mPkkokJkOGy9dtbADTCkIg7TDh0L_GHiZ85dHSrQXlN7ThfCGUdpU6zcR1ipQWHwQqtP7rbPY_efdSwdQEN0ReUdUBATYrCLyVE_86GxTsPUHSBimw/s1600/IMG_0469.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsPyNPns3rbQdZDEun6VW4mPkkokJkOGy9dtbADTCkIg7TDh0L_GHiZ85dHSrQXlN7ThfCGUdpU6zcR1ipQWHwQqtP7rbPY_efdSwdQEN0ReUdUBATYrCLyVE_86GxTsPUHSBimw/s320/IMG_0469.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494374513862884946" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2elxkLH3sg2hHpPOZBjO24A4v4A8eLx7YLM3xMrVHJRLaeHcotxlvkfQhahyeRDzycHkBVhmrGl_hV2ZZHT_cyZM3Aj7Il4VvyFy-JJKWXrxZ4Zcnv5KoczGKddP9tvXqFZq9w/s1600/IMG_0479.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2elxkLH3sg2hHpPOZBjO24A4v4A8eLx7YLM3xMrVHJRLaeHcotxlvkfQhahyeRDzycHkBVhmrGl_hV2ZZHT_cyZM3Aj7Il4VvyFy-JJKWXrxZ4Zcnv5KoczGKddP9tvXqFZq9w/s320/IMG_0479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494374509855525618" border="0" /></a><br />Next we visited a cenote. We opted not to swim. Tech Support was still feeling traumatized by his last visit to a cenote, which ended in lung fungus. It was pretty neat though, with fish in the water and bats fluttering above. If we had been there for more than 30 minutes, I might deserted Tech Support for the water.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyugkniBtjg-6q1w7Ju3CilEeaOgEk_XUe9KfNMllaelBsoHYK7M7mxbuB33Un_x73SlvhvwkKFIIWfLmZrk4QbZTfNgXf3u3T5PRMiartl5SSqnivUuPEhRi0ZDOmWNKAYXwTg/s1600/IMG_0485.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyugkniBtjg-6q1w7Ju3CilEeaOgEk_XUe9KfNMllaelBsoHYK7M7mxbuB33Un_x73SlvhvwkKFIIWfLmZrk4QbZTfNgXf3u3T5PRMiartl5SSqnivUuPEhRi0ZDOmWNKAYXwTg/s320/IMG_0485.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494374495100132610" border="0" /></a><br />Back in our overly perfumed bus and onto a Colonial Mayan village. Here we only had 20 minutes, not enough to do much. But we enjoyed the architecture style and feeling of being in a real city where people did things besides try to sell Mayan calendars to tourists (though there was that too).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHCdHhmC-0-_awIKxOx10dtZXc0MRhB-jy1DWRPYzUluGwSVAa0K76GB1y9Kj-p9ldrcJD_F6NXEFXaDeL3KaOugW4pF5YRSeW_JO_qJQHKCxbO7sFo8OgeCvtcLEBRvfDUJJdA/s1600/IMG_0494.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHCdHhmC-0-_awIKxOx10dtZXc0MRhB-jy1DWRPYzUluGwSVAa0K76GB1y9Kj-p9ldrcJD_F6NXEFXaDeL3KaOugW4pF5YRSeW_JO_qJQHKCxbO7sFo8OgeCvtcLEBRvfDUJJdA/s320/IMG_0494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494375563941957442" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYX1xuQVLxHBgLBLuRdA6_2XL9EDpkCnPMRkDYNXeikCZ1cN4t_p-KePCYrgy_g64-Fp_MMPPkfbqf6B9NP91B2gcBkATThH8SBvOa7LEW30AqaBlwraTF-IHew3IQsE9XQm3Gw/s1600/IMG_0499.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYX1xuQVLxHBgLBLuRdA6_2XL9EDpkCnPMRkDYNXeikCZ1cN4t_p-KePCYrgy_g64-Fp_MMPPkfbqf6B9NP91B2gcBkATThH8SBvOa7LEW30AqaBlwraTF-IHew3IQsE9XQm3Gw/s320/IMG_0499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494375569313021426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_lp47aoGwxunvl2Kqvs_qoJSS4CGm7zO1wy_VerQiaorc1wl2Mj0FSa13OIrgDXnUwkzK3lWm23kzvcfK_PygtbL1_e0TrgIZsaAzTbFxEU-vL1AuqA3d04DjxTlRloPWG84gw/s1600/IMG_0501.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_lp47aoGwxunvl2Kqvs_qoJSS4CGm7zO1wy_VerQiaorc1wl2Mj0FSa13OIrgDXnUwkzK3lWm23kzvcfK_PygtbL1_e0TrgIZsaAzTbFxEU-vL1AuqA3d04DjxTlRloPWG84gw/s320/IMG_0501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494375577115723890" border="0" /></a><br />On our way back to Tulum I dozed against Tech Support. After being dropped off, we joined our friends from the frozen north for dinner. We wound up at a busy looking restaurant that had pretty good food. Of course we tried the guacamole. We had a lot of fun together and stayed out later than we'd been up all week. Afterward we all piled into a Taxi together. Our driver was one of the friendlier that we'd met. He'd lived in the area for 23 years and as we sped to our Cabanas and veered around crabs, he explained that they were crossing the road for mating season.<br /><br />When we got to Copal I couldn't see the Cabana it was so dark.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-24056923663262938432010-07-13T20:15:00.000-07:002010-07-13T20:38:04.484-07:00We Finally Do Something<span style="font-style: italic;">(originally drafted 7/6/10)</span><br /><br />Yesterday we finally left the beach. We ate breakfast at Copal's restaurant, I had french toast which had been encrusted in sugar. I also rediscovered my hatred of papaya. Tech Support discovered he hated it too.<br /><br />It began to pour as we met up with our cab driver, a young man named Felipe. He raced us through the ran at terrifying speeds. The plastic grim reaper perched on his dashboard did not provide reassurance, even if it was from a kids show on Cartoon Network.<br /><br />After about five minutes it stopped raining. We drove through thick, dense, jungle. A mess of trees and vines that hid anything further than a few feet in. Occasionally we'd pass a lone business, selling something odd like pools.<br /><br />It was very interesting for someone more used to driving through farmland.<br /><br />It took about an hour to get to Coba (pronounced Co-pa), where Felipe directed us toward the ticket booth and then left us on our own. We made our way inside, with very little knowledge about where it was we were going. Soon enough we stumbled upon crumbling enigmatic Mayan pyramids and ruins. Here and there were other tour groups, some in English, and scruffy looking men offering to give us tours, but we made our way on our own.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJh3coYX4Ob8CiZS5hR9Tlkd0EBoeazW4rcGjv7JdRg4VjDR5Fs43ZxEINf2sKJ-sGd9jvrGcsNVWjPgMYe0GDsBrNIOBmkTtPD_v-AyVizZoCNl7llXc_tLWY6GSROc56TfMyw/s1600/IMG_0358.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJh3coYX4Ob8CiZS5hR9Tlkd0EBoeazW4rcGjv7JdRg4VjDR5Fs43ZxEINf2sKJ-sGd9jvrGcsNVWjPgMYe0GDsBrNIOBmkTtPD_v-AyVizZoCNl7llXc_tLWY6GSROc56TfMyw/s320/IMG_0358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493597321234062834" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKwDPgCYj0WCgjU0Sww5pdAWJCj-Ih375pICCpAf5tfliuRFWr38pFO7KulrXkTMZQLP8nDf6eAZ8qqPESOfsusxpm2yytH8UNAOsJft5Sb8KkDX4n4FLMFuC1A2kkva25SEJxA/s1600/IMG_0363.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKwDPgCYj0WCgjU0Sww5pdAWJCj-Ih375pICCpAf5tfliuRFWr38pFO7KulrXkTMZQLP8nDf6eAZ8qqPESOfsusxpm2yytH8UNAOsJft5Sb8KkDX4n4FLMFuC1A2kkva25SEJxA/s320/IMG_0363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493597330571768626" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAfM7QTZb1sT9eBRemhBwByTkxF76DLGdY2G8c-XgS8R4yIEfPy2u6ntYHZrbxD2vfe8fFzYU-vbNPfikQ3mYwfWnwwagQAcs8z6PH8Ph514tsvvfDOAquOYF7q5_kmpNnfVnag/s1600/IMG_0380.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAfM7QTZb1sT9eBRemhBwByTkxF76DLGdY2G8c-XgS8R4yIEfPy2u6ntYHZrbxD2vfe8fFzYU-vbNPfikQ3mYwfWnwwagQAcs8z6PH8Ph514tsvvfDOAquOYF7q5_kmpNnfVnag/s320/IMG_0380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493597346119730642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We opted not to bike down the pathways, but strolled down paths enclosed on either side by the dense jungle. I heard lots of bird song, but couldn't spot many of them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5py85qwJP-WkbRLZwPdTUn4eTYAtEqW98qD6xokj968XbHAsQWEATaRewiA2rgqRAheMtmJjwGoItLtl1JDX8ujtXX_2gZYEBe4esOnGy7CKoS3Qkk5g-YoIz4Tyt_TPV1u_-vA/s1600/IMG_0378.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5py85qwJP-WkbRLZwPdTUn4eTYAtEqW98qD6xokj968XbHAsQWEATaRewiA2rgqRAheMtmJjwGoItLtl1JDX8ujtXX_2gZYEBe4esOnGy7CKoS3Qkk5g-YoIz4Tyt_TPV1u_-vA/s320/IMG_0378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493597339480717042" border="0" /></a><br />Without a guide, map, or clue, we found the main attraction in Coba, a very, very, very, very steep temple that you can clime.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQNWWvwf55rKY8NEuXyDdv4pWPYpD1e13KOY07FlbgjYQsOuohWT-Ru1KdY6xMhOLUl-ZvYZBpA2ozAHoDfFkLQaK5Rtm9dQ6Mm8OQOGxmbBEggQ2DodGiEiJI7IOR3hzi26z_Q/s1600/IMG_0383.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQNWWvwf55rKY8NEuXyDdv4pWPYpD1e13KOY07FlbgjYQsOuohWT-Ru1KdY6xMhOLUl-ZvYZBpA2ozAHoDfFkLQaK5Rtm9dQ6Mm8OQOGxmbBEggQ2DodGiEiJI7IOR3hzi26z_Q/s320/IMG_0383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493597361900297778" border="0" /></a><br />Hot and sweaty already due to the weather and walk, we rested a few minutes before tackling the slope. Once I started climbing, keeping my hands on the steps in front of me, I didn't stop. A girl climbing nearby made the mistake of pausing to look down and declared that she was done.<br /><br />Up top I panted and sweat and looked out over the top of the jungle. An absolute sea of green broken only by the top of one of the other pyramids, and the ocean.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycIPJEIp6aiMUcod5i4fHym9xopYdMSYo874JuyjAhF_anwRhnCMMXSqHKr-wYxUYj6i4SBGH6S4kpphtv9Shp90yCS9WghOJj4zM2gLWPaLvu_eRziyg1uahPfl73LYASwGqwQ/s1600/IMG_0389.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycIPJEIp6aiMUcod5i4fHym9xopYdMSYo874JuyjAhF_anwRhnCMMXSqHKr-wYxUYj6i4SBGH6S4kpphtv9Shp90yCS9WghOJj4zM2gLWPaLvu_eRziyg1uahPfl73LYASwGqwQ/s320/IMG_0389.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493599168168639250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Qn0loRhNOtQeCjQapMePHOvFf-mO_xGqNTClf6NoLvb_EtuvkR_xtq4w3dws8ycfwghUKiMKvfMf6a4AMeB-Mk-TtoyQvkqUxyeN8kWoTAqwHgo3a6C5OzxmwHQ-gUsdrgB0Iw/s1600/IMG_0387.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Qn0loRhNOtQeCjQapMePHOvFf-mO_xGqNTClf6NoLvb_EtuvkR_xtq4w3dws8ycfwghUKiMKvfMf6a4AMeB-Mk-TtoyQvkqUxyeN8kWoTAqwHgo3a6C5OzxmwHQ-gUsdrgB0Iw/s320/IMG_0387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493599165251616194" border="0" /></a><br />The steps looked more frightening from the top than the bottom. We took our time to recover and enjoy the view before going down. I kept a tight hold on the rope and my eyes on my feet. At the bottom we stopped to pant and sweat again. I've hiked around Kyoto in the summer -- this was worse.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPzleAsFLzX54nCk9gbRzOVHbGPAVVAw4Vb0Sv6e9IqHZpf39Jv-NQRMlKp7HY77Rp8vnUKPlA7WDkxm7Qkua4RHISsD2dj-s4XB7gdxwDumgrQe9IQYY_uaMPdf9-2ZfWnlVh9A/s1600/IMG_0393.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPzleAsFLzX54nCk9gbRzOVHbGPAVVAw4Vb0Sv6e9IqHZpf39Jv-NQRMlKp7HY77Rp8vnUKPlA7WDkxm7Qkua4RHISsD2dj-s4XB7gdxwDumgrQe9IQYY_uaMPdf9-2ZfWnlVh9A/s320/IMG_0393.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493599181960509170" border="0" /></a><br />There was one other temple area that we hadn't seen, but we were done. We paused only to admire lizards and strange flora as we made our way back to the parking lot and Felipe.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmifwffkKdjoslax58Q_pJDi-aZHT1V2HNGjmDqbQcHWSirfeeEKm9PFnn6RMFzFBu2EcYIqpumvfWM68pPviKMUEsFOz9xbyK2J7iv3u_uBmS1pMjYqqt5PFMhThhrVdhrdg1uQ/s1600/IMG_0395.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmifwffkKdjoslax58Q_pJDi-aZHT1V2HNGjmDqbQcHWSirfeeEKm9PFnn6RMFzFBu2EcYIqpumvfWM68pPviKMUEsFOz9xbyK2J7iv3u_uBmS1pMjYqqt5PFMhThhrVdhrdg1uQ/s320/IMG_0395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493599190594436194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fq368fz6UDcwSZu6PsRwC94ROfs-GtwOTKWDcY7Mg75zdp3PQ_thos9L5hhnuwCWsVXa5lCsiKuOxC3OGliY-m9yWLvUlueWu8cZaLcqZHDtMy8fuGrF2YM7QxwMV22GvPMM9g/s1600/IMG_0401.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fq368fz6UDcwSZu6PsRwC94ROfs-GtwOTKWDcY7Mg75zdp3PQ_thos9L5hhnuwCWsVXa5lCsiKuOxC3OGliY-m9yWLvUlueWu8cZaLcqZHDtMy8fuGrF2YM7QxwMV22GvPMM9g/s320/IMG_0401.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493599201750580418" border="0" /></a><br />He took us back to Tulum, where it still drizzled. After a nice chilly shower we walked down the road, it wasn't much past noon, and had lunch and cerveza's. As usual, we also had the guacamole.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcYmNr2Utd43-iDqFUR2dB37lD5N0D3QW6hRrh4T5q0fmiNhv-HpIO0T165GyFJABnucIN2Mrt7HN6-H23AvdbQfwWYu_2sKwRzSDI6VH3Bfw6BSkaPbqPvaxDiDfLO1ZG0-UHw/s1600/IMG_0406.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcYmNr2Utd43-iDqFUR2dB37lD5N0D3QW6hRrh4T5q0fmiNhv-HpIO0T165GyFJABnucIN2Mrt7HN6-H23AvdbQfwWYu_2sKwRzSDI6VH3Bfw6BSkaPbqPvaxDiDfLO1ZG0-UHw/s320/IMG_0406.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493600487892450210" border="0" /></a><br />The rest of the day was spent in the usual dissipation of reading in the shade and floating in the warm water. We retired to our Cabana and I sat down to write, noticing a few minutes later something moving around at the bottom of our door. A bug. A large bug. I went over to open the door and discovered a handsome, black beetle climbing up our exterior wall.<br /><br />Unfortunately, that would bring it into our Cabana. And while it was a handsome beetle we still felt odd about having another roommate. For a little while Tech Support waged war with our little friend, who seemed determined to climb up the same way. Tech Support even flung the little bugger on the roof, thinking that was where it wanted to go. But it came back down to our doorstep and started up again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtvXgReQ7WS6QypwQB4bHazR441eSEM2M6QCNoMEwP9oTluG6PZtRxHJMYc3hQa4hjt_SC3JrThHfKeB8K9-uz_uSsOzlvIv0_stt3YOuh4CStO1ZKP7H1RXV_mFtJ5rltwJF5w/s1600/IMG_0410.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtvXgReQ7WS6QypwQB4bHazR441eSEM2M6QCNoMEwP9oTluG6PZtRxHJMYc3hQa4hjt_SC3JrThHfKeB8K9-uz_uSsOzlvIv0_stt3YOuh4CStO1ZKP7H1RXV_mFtJ5rltwJF5w/s320/IMG_0410.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493600495255747362" border="0" /></a><br />Finally, Tech Support transplanted it to base of a Cabana we felt fairly certain to be empty, and we withdrew to our own. I gazed out the window, pondering the life and struggles of a large beetle in Mexico, and Tech Support teased me when--<br /><br />Something large and black flew by the window. We found an overturned beetle by the plants out front. Tech Support righted it and then ran inside when it started flying again. In the end, we feel fairly certain it would up in a tree.<br /><br />We saw no further activity, and are not certain whether we were haunted by one, or two, beetles.<br /><br />The storm started up again, and we gave into laziness and munching on chips rather than going into town. Tech Support realized my side of the bed was getting doused with water, and scrambled outside to put down the plastic sheeting. Rain still came through the top, open screens.<br /><br />I went to sleep during a calmer period, and woke again to fat raindrops hitting my skin. The rain came down so hard it rivaled the roar of the ocean for volume. Lighting flashed, and a dozen seconds later there was loud thunder.<br /><br />Somehow I went back to sleep.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-17825042420824625362010-07-11T09:44:00.000-07:002010-07-11T09:54:09.812-07:00Still Taking It Easy<span style="font-style: italic;">(originally written 7/5/10)</span><p class="MsoNormal">Independence day passed without any fireworks in Tulum. We started the day with another dip in the Ocean. The water is so warm it's easy to stay in until our hands wrinkle up.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once we got out we settled in for some reading and iguana watching, an easy substitute for television. After a little of that we decided to walk into Tulum. A 30-40 minute walk. A long walk. But worth it. At first we only saw crab carcasses, which we attributed to bird activity, then, up ahead, I saw one of those angular, insect-like bodies creep across the path.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDL2fgIc48JvMGhb5JLWhA3EmYH70ncls8ZCRpO0jU1liBM_f1rtVtWlYFLC1CRz_EbcHBYeLfCR3gtyFDdjiXM67e7lV8W-JJjx_kQvTWCUCYwMyxOtqo7zJ024NfSm6IC8DMxQ/s1600/IMG_0520.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDL2fgIc48JvMGhb5JLWhA3EmYH70ncls8ZCRpO0jU1liBM_f1rtVtWlYFLC1CRz_EbcHBYeLfCR3gtyFDdjiXM67e7lV8W-JJjx_kQvTWCUCYwMyxOtqo7zJ024NfSm6IC8DMxQ/s320/IMG_0520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492691364851724194" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29KwB6anQ2FhHo4Xz2rH4uoRoZFI23JptU0Ic6PL5QJTy6zg-xlZyy7AZ6VYTsZrtkcUrhLXQiaIEcFUTtmczwjB5RRUOcHqpJE9tI56VHiU-ERPtiGuJxduKhcv91ncQFQBsjw/s1600/IMG_0505.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29KwB6anQ2FhHo4Xz2rH4uoRoZFI23JptU0Ic6PL5QJTy6zg-xlZyy7AZ6VYTsZrtkcUrhLXQiaIEcFUTtmczwjB5RRUOcHqpJE9tI56VHiU-ERPtiGuJxduKhcv91ncQFQBsjw/s320/IMG_0505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492691679805658546" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnoVR9bhRMZMNs3DZdJijhtnew2e9FTFaUTLLmBK1ZNaLFDzGYvDe6F8RdaB-GLOwCooDQJj9pBe1n0sho9dJXWVTPkUDKDGDZRM0V1MZYQ5ulU7WuDCDmwiPYqCGjg9klDfKRg/s1600/IMG_0504.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnoVR9bhRMZMNs3DZdJijhtnew2e9FTFaUTLLmBK1ZNaLFDzGYvDe6F8RdaB-GLOwCooDQJj9pBe1n0sho9dJXWVTPkUDKDGDZRM0V1MZYQ5ulU7WuDCDmwiPYqCGjg9klDfKRg/s320/IMG_0504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492691899210942914" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">We spotted more in little puddles to our left, smaller red crabs and big blue ones. They were leaving the jungle and trying to cross the two-lane road. We wondered what they imagined was on the other side. At least drivers were swerving to avoid them, and we saw a sign on the way back urging them to do so ("help them, don't smash them"), but a few had not made it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tech Support and I ruminate over the life of the jungle crab as we continued into the city. We finally arrived and took care of a few errands. We then made our way over to the more downtown, "centro" area.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On a Sunday afternoon not a whole lot was going on. Restaurant owners stood outside looking bored. We picked a place and sat down. A man wearing no shirt and carrying a machete walked by. A few minutes later a fight broke out across the street. A passing transit cop paused and turned on his lights, but did not get out of his car.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As we drove back I noticed a Federal Police station about 300 feet from where the fight had happened.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got back without hitting any crabs. Tech Support set up some adventures for the next two days and we lay out to do some more reading and nature watching. Everyone here is reading "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo", the acid yellow cover easy to spot all along the beach.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not me though, I already read it.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went into the water again and took our goggles. After looking at kelp and sand for a few minutes we settled for floating in the ocean.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After our 3rd shower of the day we decided to have a light dinner at Copal's restaurant. A tiny crab flung itself at Tech Support's ankle, startling both of them. The crab played dead for a while before scuttling off, startling Tech Support again. We saw other little crabs, and so did the cats, alien kitty had a slender orange friend this time. But they lost interest when the crabs played dead.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went back to our Cabana. There were storms during the night again, and I woke up to the spray of rain on my body.<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-34183952418393825622010-07-10T08:27:00.001-07:002010-07-10T12:04:51.112-07:00Do Nothing Well<span style="font-style: italic;">(originally written 7/4/10)</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfqBe2sPesXeYie6y3EeoZO9LjKzwih6G2qBPOTPA2fN8I2M7hy3QF7NyyZYq5-i1TFezOLiOaTCDSjDxgWPc85BcHuWllLW4l9CKMW-quPD6QYd8tN9KQcQvLKR0oc4Wi3zKD1Q/s1600/IMG_0344.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfqBe2sPesXeYie6y3EeoZO9LjKzwih6G2qBPOTPA2fN8I2M7hy3QF7NyyZYq5-i1TFezOLiOaTCDSjDxgWPc85BcHuWllLW4l9CKMW-quPD6QYd8tN9KQcQvLKR0oc4Wi3zKD1Q/s320/IMG_0344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492305645848531698" border="0" /></a><br />There really isn't a whole lot of interest that went on yesterday. We spent a majority of our time out front of our Cabana, reading or napping. I finished my Wallander novel, since I only have two more books with me I'll have to pace them out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXo9m7MF9m3Nmnb_sVTOVVrrBtu1B3N6055D-40i_ldhbgJ1sWuKmnv1Ool_sjq_hOUF2MYZDBKcu5qltKr35xfu0Dra-1xTXX_kSeDEaOaHowVl3ab3hU8scdAi19GA2huHeyA/s1600/IMG_0321.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXo9m7MF9m3Nmnb_sVTOVVrrBtu1B3N6055D-40i_ldhbgJ1sWuKmnv1Ool_sjq_hOUF2MYZDBKcu5qltKr35xfu0Dra-1xTXX_kSeDEaOaHowVl3ab3hU8scdAi19GA2huHeyA/s320/IMG_0321.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492305993564868850" border="0" /></a><br />As usual, I am enjoying the wildlife. Besides the impressive iguanas, there are lots of little lizards with striped backs, many missing tails (perhaps due to the cat mentioned later in the post). The pelicans here look different than the ones I'm used to, sleeker. There are some other birds, but my only view of most of them is from below as they soar in the ever-present wind here. There is a little black bird with a long, broad tail that makes it look like a balsa-wood toy plane. It has a pretty song. Every now and then I catch a flash of bright yellow. Oriels maybe.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiUJQqUcJdO82ElYVy_A3E1eAfEGCltwavAC5fNwJARFLjiDBfldvQClfE8vNYWNg1v2YqH20Sp1_zIXSYeci4W4ayjRgR1mO3IAw0KIBTD30L4TMUT0Hs4jOxzQPMYLwZid8qA/s1600/IMG_0319.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiUJQqUcJdO82ElYVy_A3E1eAfEGCltwavAC5fNwJARFLjiDBfldvQClfE8vNYWNg1v2YqH20Sp1_zIXSYeci4W4ayjRgR1mO3IAw0KIBTD30L4TMUT0Hs4jOxzQPMYLwZid8qA/s320/IMG_0319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492306591049735458" border="0" /></a><br />This morning I watched what looked like a wasp dig a hole in the ground big enough to disappear into. It flung sand an impressive distance. Then, buried the hole up.<br /><br />I need guide-books for these things.<br /><br />Yesterday afternoon we trekked out of Copal and down the road toward a mini-mart. There are a lot of other hotels down that way, but not many people. We're not in high season. Most of the restaurants were empty. We picked up some chips and fanta and went back to our reading. The doritos here taste different, like they were made for people who like strong flavor. I like them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSKCUvPCun896WDizB9FEcJcgvjk289Dup-CQXPY5o6w_eqgqyYGVuCkvatrMNIabyoMJkY29SRqprAKv8G4oCK2gZaaeYIWM0uw_YMpaT56HeAydpSfrvq3NhXcFmMJOBJT9lg/s1600/IMG_0582.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSKCUvPCun896WDizB9FEcJcgvjk289Dup-CQXPY5o6w_eqgqyYGVuCkvatrMNIabyoMJkY29SRqprAKv8G4oCK2gZaaeYIWM0uw_YMpaT56HeAydpSfrvq3NhXcFmMJOBJT9lg/s320/IMG_0582.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492306276938763778" border="0" /></a><br />For dinner we went to Copal's restaurant. There we met up with a kitty that we had also seen during breakfast. He or she is a tiny thing, with a long skinny tail like a rat. But despite being quite slender, he looks healthy. Probably because he goes from table to table suckering people like me and Tech Support into tossing him chicken and shrimp. He knows how to work it too. he ignored our table until we were served, then came and sat next to us until we were done, at which point he promptly disappeared.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jGGfbPIjP_hDpgSiURrad4uB8ThcxJOLlcPfH0Sn5BuHZErBD7NxMrJHHEmUotYE9yWYS2Vku0k7Qtbw9c7ojx5lly2rJIDIs3OV9YZ_AGXsvUKnYLIgQp02iRXZ2fNaxnk0bw/s1600/IMG_0346.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jGGfbPIjP_hDpgSiURrad4uB8ThcxJOLlcPfH0Sn5BuHZErBD7NxMrJHHEmUotYE9yWYS2Vku0k7Qtbw9c7ojx5lly2rJIDIs3OV9YZ_AGXsvUKnYLIgQp02iRXZ2fNaxnk0bw/s320/IMG_0346.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492306876831709922" border="0" /></a><br />Thunder storms rolled in late in the afternoon. It poured on and off all through dinner. The cooler (but not by any means cool) air was welcome. it stopped long enough that I got to see my first ever fire-flies in person as we walked back to our Cabana from dinner.<br /><br />Tech Support let me have the window side of the bed because I was so hot. Air blowing in from the windows helped me get to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night, pelted by rain coming through the screen, then went back to sleep.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-64691841272965411792010-07-09T22:18:00.000-07:002010-07-10T06:53:09.416-07:00Waiting for Transporter Technology<span style="font-style: italic;">(originally written 7/3/10)</span><o:p style="font-style: italic;"></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal">Except for hour-long flights to and from San Jose, I hate flying. Hate. Hate. Hate.<o:p></o:p> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unfortunately, I love being in new places.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yesterday's plane ride was not the one to change my mind. For starters, we had to get up at 4am. I'd only gone to bed around midnight and had not slept well. In fact, I felt like I'd only fallen asleep when Tech Support turned the light on.<o:p></o:p> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I do like seeing that city that early in the morning. We were almost the only car out. We passed another taxi. I resisted the urge to wave.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After that it all blurs into a dull misery of lines and small seats. I dozed for most of the ride to Phoenix. On the plane to Cancun I read about people dying in cold and miserable Sweden. Our seatmate turned out to be an ex-patriot. Once a marine who'd been to South Asia, he now lives in Playa Del Carmen with some dogs and a bunch of chickens. He doesn't eat eggs, he just likes the company.<o:p></o:p> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we arrived in Cancun I was instantly overwhelmed. Seemed like everyone wanted to talk to us, sell us something, etc. We pushed through the mass and found our ride after a wrong turn, and after an hour and a half of driving through the jungle, we were shown to our little cabana by the sea.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLfR9YuM8MGH4ly8jkiYrMm0f8OVX1NVDIsWfoUPPLPOHWWzckHgsP6ht6KW1Mi980NWQAacWeg6lMt9Bxxjgtzd_30snr0ITYngW3g4qmL_vn0xBDGOGzRnm5STLon-MXlY4ow/s1600/IMG_0318.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLfR9YuM8MGH4ly8jkiYrMm0f8OVX1NVDIsWfoUPPLPOHWWzckHgsP6ht6KW1Mi980NWQAacWeg6lMt9Bxxjgtzd_30snr0ITYngW3g4qmL_vn0xBDGOGzRnm5STLon-MXlY4ow/s320/IMG_0318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492149214485545218" border="0" /></a><br /><o:p></o:p> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p>It was beautiful, and hot, and wonderful, and I was too exhausted to really appreciate it. My head hurt, and nothing felt familiar. We took a walk on the beach, discovered a conspicuously empty sushi bar, naked people, and the pleasure of warm water on our feet.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hw_6dirOESWn3T7qodO8zhiXHo742zmmZkXvajJ5WDAtI0RM_8owpJu1tyIA2SaIpPVWScdT4eEJO0AhFM-VivRIzttLF6d1Z2JfaLbEaN9xlfTX9Jo881s7v6kw5w7g8jsSmg/s1600/IMG_0352.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hw_6dirOESWn3T7qodO8zhiXHo742zmmZkXvajJ5WDAtI0RM_8owpJu1tyIA2SaIpPVWScdT4eEJO0AhFM-VivRIzttLF6d1Z2JfaLbEaN9xlfTX9Jo881s7v6kw5w7g8jsSmg/s320/IMG_0352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492150444215097330" border="0" /></a><br /><o:p></o:p>At night it got dark, real dark, since there is no electricity. We lit candles and giggled as we slid across the inclined floor from our rustic bathroom to the main area. I settled under the mosquito net and fell asleep at about 8:30pm. Even though I woke up a few times, by morning I felt better.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">First thing we went down into the water. Perfect temperature. No good for boogie boarding though. We saw more naked people, these ones less burned than the ones from yesterday. A topless lady exercised with a hula-hoop while her robust husband took pictures. Though this was not my crowd, I was having a great time watching them.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a breakfast that involved jalapeno peppers, we headed back to our Cabana. Today's plan is to take it easy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSgyRM7rP-FMvHxcQfAsctvKkP-ijc_AZXCG5qjGq2Kz-56cgVBtf8ssJ1p-8951Fj-BfxGjKXR_kWkvJZgXp9Aiq3VSlmQ017i7K7QpnEPMVd0kwEcVjmu5gZZ5M1lZFWslJ6Fw/s1600/IMG_0342.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSgyRM7rP-FMvHxcQfAsctvKkP-ijc_AZXCG5qjGq2Kz-56cgVBtf8ssJ1p-8951Fj-BfxGjKXR_kWkvJZgXp9Aiq3VSlmQ017i7K7QpnEPMVd0kwEcVjmu5gZZ5M1lZFWslJ6Fw/s320/IMG_0342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492150167457580306" border="0" /></a><br /><o:p></o:p> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p>When I sat down to write this, a dozen feet from our front door, some kids were playing. They chased a very large lizard past my chair. When I looked up I noticed there were more, half a dozen, sunning themselves on some rocks nearby.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjf3FcITfd18FY1UIJhIhb6pD5EJNZ_G_Hxa7108B3KQP3dfaQSQYoW3NFhAudPLZscol8RGICQuduP06zNbWsxwg5-Ee-tj3DV_fbar2F9X4f6yLi3h33qJQatid1fKRVPZU0A/s1600/IMG_0339.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjf3FcITfd18FY1UIJhIhb6pD5EJNZ_G_Hxa7108B3KQP3dfaQSQYoW3NFhAudPLZscol8RGICQuduP06zNbWsxwg5-Ee-tj3DV_fbar2F9X4f6yLi3h33qJQatid1fKRVPZU0A/s320/IMG_0339.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492149787444439266" border="0" /></a><br /><o:p></o:p>I've never been into lizards -- I don't even like dinosaurs. But now I get it. These magnificent beast-lizards are nothing like the drab little tail droppers I grew up with. They are handsome iguanas. And if you stand still enough, they'll get pretty close.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBjOqY49HxicPjQbXwl0tjettw_J7fwEbkUUopmmCjNLAHXqc6V9WlwBw3ShjLKWO4BK_WPJOqkeoNFBnTHko9W1y7xeOtZwjK_KKUAtiBgIXE7dTmxAzgVi3y1XpcnDKBolrEQ/s1600/IMG_0327.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBjOqY49HxicPjQbXwl0tjettw_J7fwEbkUUopmmCjNLAHXqc6V9WlwBw3ShjLKWO4BK_WPJOqkeoNFBnTHko9W1y7xeOtZwjK_KKUAtiBgIXE7dTmxAzgVi3y1XpcnDKBolrEQ/s320/IMG_0327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492150825409812546" border="0" /></a><br /><o:p></o:p>While standing on the rocks watching the lizards we spotted another naked man. He flailed inelegantly on the rocks below, an odd counterpoint to the beauty of nature we'd been admiring.<o:p></o:p><!--EndFragment--> </p>eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-64515521153322254812010-01-03T15:48:00.001-08:002010-01-03T15:50:54.098-08:002010 So Far...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHMmBWiikzCVXF1UXGeSheeSda2l6SfcPb4mHA6ocbrbZlJo9e1EiXkM5veTupWhDbCZF5FGppZdzGuoh9S8Iaa7sXZR1u5jSd11H4-pjkXSMK4TSosbKWRJuMT7qs6UUVMtYMAw/s1600-h/happykirby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHMmBWiikzCVXF1UXGeSheeSda2l6SfcPb4mHA6ocbrbZlJo9e1EiXkM5veTupWhDbCZF5FGppZdzGuoh9S8Iaa7sXZR1u5jSd11H4-pjkXSMK4TSosbKWRJuMT7qs6UUVMtYMAw/s320/happykirby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422664871461651298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvfXaGecewmEysZlgDdPvV2OGUq1DbF8AzS1QSofi6Ok1qWnnxi2N_Su6DuASJHENqg0oqMZXvBeUxAUcapxJ3QvIwf3QQUCLsU9t_yzqj47hXWYmYxL5XjMZAGW_X23q3HBSow/s1600-h/sarakirby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvfXaGecewmEysZlgDdPvV2OGUq1DbF8AzS1QSofi6Ok1qWnnxi2N_Su6DuASJHENqg0oqMZXvBeUxAUcapxJ3QvIwf3QQUCLsU9t_yzqj47hXWYmYxL5XjMZAGW_X23q3HBSow/s320/sarakirby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422664888962147026" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfvjmkWuY-tc_boXEV_DZukX5Thwqm653ju4DKNq4SwuA4_G5-M2lubdy4np8aMBhZKfAccMeuMWoSq4dOsggNN50pqAZSzD7x-nUi557YqNwPa5p8CLl1_H962hjGEBPf6ngxw/s1600-h/kirbybeachart.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfvjmkWuY-tc_boXEV_DZukX5Thwqm653ju4DKNq4SwuA4_G5-M2lubdy4np8aMBhZKfAccMeuMWoSq4dOsggNN50pqAZSzD7x-nUi557YqNwPa5p8CLl1_H962hjGEBPf6ngxw/s320/kirbybeachart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422664877958253186" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6c0PYRs9jsEMM7aAgtgSCbLT5J-rco3BpTOb3vV1BQWXL5SjY6d2qQ6kZ9Pg-Xb9ob6OwS620dB77ntCpXeQ8vT3qgocdxdSs8neE8IGH7c7KfYuhaSrgnRYVgX3jzxEwTXgzIg/s1600-h/lettuce.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6c0PYRs9jsEMM7aAgtgSCbLT5J-rco3BpTOb3vV1BQWXL5SjY6d2qQ6kZ9Pg-Xb9ob6OwS620dB77ntCpXeQ8vT3qgocdxdSs8neE8IGH7c7KfYuhaSrgnRYVgX3jzxEwTXgzIg/s320/lettuce.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422664880276064914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVCv-SYiCPHaMWRJ3sgxCbZM_4_qNK9Z-h_YDwvgg0qy_U33t2Fyz7qR8RxZZjjRXz1kOk_IGfci_fw1m-ik0mcsDdq9g7ZiLmPDT41EQ71JeBX70UddWSab6ty6OHf7KwYWfcg/s1600-h/cynthia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVCv-SYiCPHaMWRJ3sgxCbZM_4_qNK9Z-h_YDwvgg0qy_U33t2Fyz7qR8RxZZjjRXz1kOk_IGfci_fw1m-ik0mcsDdq9g7ZiLmPDT41EQ71JeBX70UddWSab6ty6OHf7KwYWfcg/s320/cynthia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422664858750849170" border="0" /></a>eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-43233605944460278272009-10-16T08:28:00.001-07:002009-10-16T09:10:30.563-07:00The Hyper-Realist Place on EarthI know I'm supposed to look on the place as some kind of gluttonous monument to capatalism, a wasteful, overpriced, and unnatural way to spend the afternoon.<br /><br />And even my boss, who does not view the place as any of the above, expressed confusion over my reference to a day spent there with Tech Support as romantic.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-K3aJdkjaZPi4NRe7BKN_OgoNE13FmHbdlbbJm7faRcpnD4O-BWusEVxBpQw3CCLfoHAyVa4845VblcOKIrM4uHgdykZPx3ZKSqJ5cXgSTjKer5rP9hwxUJzRedO3g5WL6nmkNA/s1600-h/matterhorn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-K3aJdkjaZPi4NRe7BKN_OgoNE13FmHbdlbbJm7faRcpnD4O-BWusEVxBpQw3CCLfoHAyVa4845VblcOKIrM4uHgdykZPx3ZKSqJ5cXgSTjKer5rP9hwxUJzRedO3g5WL6nmkNA/s320/matterhorn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393228213097233810" border="0" /></a><br />And yes, I guess I can see how spending an overcast and drizzling day in a theme park based, loosely, around a talking mouse and his friends and the dreams of a man who died over 40 years ago, might not be considered the perfect date. But then, I've never really been a champagne and chocolate strawberries kind of girl.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuem7_MCMnKNnQRfmXxZ5i3Rb8ymiLXnEXbS_0p9RaRJovGIwDaKBwkJEuJa7RBeAV5UMDfQ705ybq1Y-NfZTwTxnAEAZYppolp_7IEjZ47Tnoz33Bt0CWS5DgxdCXf-pyN0D0QQ/s1600-h/marktwain.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuem7_MCMnKNnQRfmXxZ5i3Rb8ymiLXnEXbS_0p9RaRJovGIwDaKBwkJEuJa7RBeAV5UMDfQ705ybq1Y-NfZTwTxnAEAZYppolp_7IEjZ47Tnoz33Bt0CWS5DgxdCXf-pyN0D0QQ/s320/marktwain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393228224920632034" border="0" /></a><br />This morning I asked Tech Support: "Do you think Disneyland is romantic?"<br />"What?! Huh?! Yeah, I guess," he exclaimed defensively. He had only gotten out of bed about three minutes earlier.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3UyNEFbdo6LYi5JNvoyzoREGT9NToEWiqcUj-GwHnwzDp0KexkkswfSl18w73-dRVgkVy9aqyz1Lr_FPXKu1qkXic0HQvNL01s_1KT1ZjYBGRdIZD3sD5D9SmiC_AhX0rfPDWeQ/s1600-h/smallworld.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3UyNEFbdo6LYi5JNvoyzoREGT9NToEWiqcUj-GwHnwzDp0KexkkswfSl18w73-dRVgkVy9aqyz1Lr_FPXKu1qkXic0HQvNL01s_1KT1ZjYBGRdIZD3sD5D9SmiC_AhX0rfPDWeQ/s320/smallworld.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393228227336072002" border="0" /></a><br />The day was cool, the sky overcast, intermittent rain drifted down and scared away crowds, keeping the lines short. We walked around for hours, chatting about things both deep and shallow, and laughed over the ridiculous. Then, with Tech Supports thrilled whoops of joy from riding Space Mountain still lingering in my ears, we went home.<br /><br />But we did not go on It's A Small World.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-30755385225457356902009-09-25T08:53:00.000-07:002009-09-25T09:07:31.203-07:00Sweat The Small StuffThe other night I had an epiphany. I'd known for months that part of the reason writing my book has taken so long is because I spent almost a year trying to polish scenes and plot points that didn't work -- an effect that is like constantly rearranging furniture in a house with no bathroom or windows. But I hadn't fully understood why I did this, besides being buried in denial about having built a house with no bathroom or windows.<br /><br />Then it came to me -- I'd been too obsessed with the details. Why? Because I love the details in books. That's what make books worth reading to me. Those little bits of information that build onto a whole and offer insight and truth.<br /><br />But you need to have a whole first.<br /><br />I remember watching the movie about Ed Wood years ago, and thinking that he had all the enthusiasm in the world but didn't realize he needed to pay attention to the details. Part of the reason I decided not to go into film despite having a degree was my hatred for the details involved. I hated figuring out the fstop of lighting, the frame rate of film, where the music needed to swell. I loved the stories, I didn't care at all about the technicalities.<br /><br />Meanwhile, I love working on the details of my real house (which thankfully has a bathroom and windows). At some point in the last two years I realized that if I wanted my house to look a certain way, I'd have to Do It Myself. Perhaps if I had a large disposable income I could hire someone, but even then, I fear I'm too much of a control freak.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGH1xm3XJaPtR-UTskhsA0lknoEeZYErZoHJuSB7DgxnWty9u7-varXMqyjT5neHLsib33A2NxLFXxJ-6MFjDt74Iqq5XJzuhwNyuHoCnfFct6Cy0TtOMC_ILNKLr8eZDLwud7Q/s1600-h/092409clawfoot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGH1xm3XJaPtR-UTskhsA0lknoEeZYErZoHJuSB7DgxnWty9u7-varXMqyjT5neHLsib33A2NxLFXxJ-6MFjDt74Iqq5XJzuhwNyuHoCnfFct6Cy0TtOMC_ILNKLr8eZDLwud7Q/s320/092409clawfoot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385436184741944914" border="0" /></a><br />I don't have any particular style or goal. I don't know Interior Design, but I know what I like -- A little Jane Austen, a little Steam Punk, and anything else that hits my fancy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAO7TsH4GqKDA88HRuKvioE_k-LbXIWqa9_ruAy64IRtl8VVRhBAuZUsPJkYtMb5JQO_d7EXfUIstVzufLVdO9zP4XECwmO-_K8wY-C3NZggKb-AIXpCL7w2Y0IE8qqVHi1pDkw/s1600-h/092409curtains.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAO7TsH4GqKDA88HRuKvioE_k-LbXIWqa9_ruAy64IRtl8VVRhBAuZUsPJkYtMb5JQO_d7EXfUIstVzufLVdO9zP4XECwmO-_K8wY-C3NZggKb-AIXpCL7w2Y0IE8qqVHi1pDkw/s320/092409curtains.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385436190674350274" border="0" /></a><br />I made those curtains. I'm proud.<br /><br />The apartment overlords must have realized I'm on a home decorating mood, because they helpfully removed large parts of the trees outside (a bit too much perhaps) and now my patio is getting more light than ever.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tRL5JsVZlvydTaeYh4YSL4BSO1lrsaQC-hr0_dgmCjFN6nse2JUBZYYqOTUjmIHTpY-8J2ZYemBsSOdSG-V0T04HgI96ZY_P8TWJNrpGkPVlS4wHDPEx5E4DdhCxdn2v7wv5dw/s1600-h/092409patio.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tRL5JsVZlvydTaeYh4YSL4BSO1lrsaQC-hr0_dgmCjFN6nse2JUBZYYqOTUjmIHTpY-8J2ZYemBsSOdSG-V0T04HgI96ZY_P8TWJNrpGkPVlS4wHDPEx5E4DdhCxdn2v7wv5dw/s320/092409patio.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385436200075712002" border="0" /></a><br />Details... details...eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-15159843300962164892009-09-20T12:31:00.000-07:002009-09-20T12:53:23.721-07:00Paperback WriterThe first real completed draft, the draft where the importance of having a good plot on which to build good writing finally sank into my dense skull, is done and weighs in at 104,233. At 250-300 words per page, I've written a whole lot of pages.<br /><br />Time for a break. Step back, get a little perspective so I can be critical of the New Improved Plot. Get back to the blogging I stopped doing when life got busy and I got so focused on my writing that writing anything else inspired mental tantrums.<br /><br />Meanwhile though, I have continued to use the donabe.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxJ-dJx5-wJZi1g8X2frP267Zn4wpSObU1EwpVjv7BaOe6EPGx6pPDQHnsNGJ8dxNVAT-rWMQMYquNrU1mMzvbyLXnK1Lmuc7EEt_URTaL2heJ5xjKVQ0e9vo8mUAPapFHRg4og/s1600-h/091909donabe6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxJ-dJx5-wJZi1g8X2frP267Zn4wpSObU1EwpVjv7BaOe6EPGx6pPDQHnsNGJ8dxNVAT-rWMQMYquNrU1mMzvbyLXnK1Lmuc7EEt_URTaL2heJ5xjKVQ0e9vo8mUAPapFHRg4og/s320/091909donabe6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383635024742616338" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaK7z2dyjljedpqtK-gNmbJPxk28nT0t8vkC0nSzQYenx3H_a03D-Fnk0tDYMwL4UJWu6lX0BtZgQ0DBXT0_0M9ORzIO05l-Z9XmfpSDAdin7D5TTJn2gt6WkcL7DN2zh3ZcxsQ/s1600-h/091909donabe5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaK7z2dyjljedpqtK-gNmbJPxk28nT0t8vkC0nSzQYenx3H_a03D-Fnk0tDYMwL4UJWu6lX0BtZgQ0DBXT0_0M9ORzIO05l-Z9XmfpSDAdin7D5TTJn2gt6WkcL7DN2zh3ZcxsQ/s320/091909donabe5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383634895533574786" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigP17qafE0SL9aS6MZ9bgXDp_Jm0bG4F8nEVRxTcAleaGyqOfEO8ImiSRWnMX2-9iBR-7F_dunImQgbiLBseKGB6yHIkIXfEs7dyz1xaSmoZjEAR7HhhhPb0HOODZ7afq4SHL7JA/s1600-h/091909donabe4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigP17qafE0SL9aS6MZ9bgXDp_Jm0bG4F8nEVRxTcAleaGyqOfEO8ImiSRWnMX2-9iBR-7F_dunImQgbiLBseKGB6yHIkIXfEs7dyz1xaSmoZjEAR7HhhhPb0HOODZ7afq4SHL7JA/s320/091909donabe4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383634882342779826" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU50fmcLrPviArHl2uDxPfTooTiM9KSJc_elZujJfobHgWgESMCFmfx0hkaEYKIcYfeh7QEL5Y2TOdD30hi8MoircSrg1OLfnEdBYOzJ4PRSmTj10enUPb8eQUtos6Aiveb76eIQ/s1600-h/091909donabe3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU50fmcLrPviArHl2uDxPfTooTiM9KSJc_elZujJfobHgWgESMCFmfx0hkaEYKIcYfeh7QEL5Y2TOdD30hi8MoircSrg1OLfnEdBYOzJ4PRSmTj10enUPb8eQUtos6Aiveb76eIQ/s320/091909donabe3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383634877274150290" border="0" /></a><br />I love that all you need to do to make something in the donable is chop some stuff, saute some stuff, and then throw the lid over it. Nothing takes more than 1/2 an hour to prepare.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44MQLpJ-HWd8XXDljPLFKDGXaLnWFe4JvD1j4RHrcjbTgD92PF24tye5nFTJO0rk8XExGI7byzPbQDA1aS00S0nwmu-cWDXHVHejXiGFHXWyzSN71le2e5JoogAJpaF0Il25Xxw/s1600-h/091909writingpartners.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44MQLpJ-HWd8XXDljPLFKDGXaLnWFe4JvD1j4RHrcjbTgD92PF24tye5nFTJO0rk8XExGI7byzPbQDA1aS00S0nwmu-cWDXHVHejXiGFHXWyzSN71le2e5JoogAJpaF0Il25Xxw/s320/091909writingpartners.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383635036970798530" border="0" /></a><br />Here's a picture of my writing partner and his associates. Every morning I get up before Tech Support, around 7am, make tea, and do some writing -- and I never lack company. Now that I'm on break from writing, I'm not sure what I'll do. I'll figure something out. And I'm guaranteed company.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-58663618286696630862009-08-17T19:23:00.000-07:002009-08-17T19:25:38.303-07:00The ParadoxLast month I was overwhelmed with house guests, conferences, work and fun. I had a lot to blog about but either lacked time or energy. This month life has returned to normal and I've got time and energy and not much to blog about.<br /><br />Sure, I could toss up another picture of a donabe and yakisoba and you'd show polite (and perhaps genuine) interest. However, I must admit my own creative inspiration needs a little more to work with than, 'look! yakisoba! yummy!'<br /><br />So, nostalgia!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWJFsKgucIKhnerniPdIoPGq9bY7QvkK0sCyCfXH8nyT-j5-13_60j8T9QE320mE8-eeCfQy34gR3mq_Zem3T-VY7kdzymEUiM7cSae7S0Cj1LseuaPfBODdYO6IGZoX7a9Daxg/s1600-h/siblingrivalry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWJFsKgucIKhnerniPdIoPGq9bY7QvkK0sCyCfXH8nyT-j5-13_60j8T9QE320mE8-eeCfQy34gR3mq_Zem3T-VY7kdzymEUiM7cSae7S0Cj1LseuaPfBODdYO6IGZoX7a9Daxg/s320/siblingrivalry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357943849694288882" border="0" /></a><br />The Blackirby B & B hosted the young Kitchen Gnome for another visit, and at the same time the Aunt from Santa Cruz came down for some fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9_A2BTWT_mCN75LVRPRjeZ-4KAxUAKRKhf62ZmuMdS5MZmhebBuGNzRhvAz6A-sKrW_-42YHQhasYCUEhG_QbpbjFkv8CZ3MpjFTvgq6YoRPuAD-n7tGCpyfrjYtszqsOoOfkg/s1600-h/gamblegroupshot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9_A2BTWT_mCN75LVRPRjeZ-4KAxUAKRKhf62ZmuMdS5MZmhebBuGNzRhvAz6A-sKrW_-42YHQhasYCUEhG_QbpbjFkv8CZ3MpjFTvgq6YoRPuAD-n7tGCpyfrjYtszqsOoOfkg/s320/gamblegroupshot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357943806009681618" border="0" /></a><br />We overcame a combination of laziness and weariness of the Los Angeles Freeway system and made it out to Pasadena and the Gamble House.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPLBS9ZjMGRQnS9mGktj0KMIGrhLkGBUJQQPw6qVPjfRW8lrhO8UkErgWyeRLI68QLpvjkj0SPD9XUjphQ2EzbuELuolZP61eEAlVlW5EfJfxfWpZYAXAceaCT8KaS3QfyIHp5A/s1600-h/gamblehouse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPLBS9ZjMGRQnS9mGktj0KMIGrhLkGBUJQQPw6qVPjfRW8lrhO8UkErgWyeRLI68QLpvjkj0SPD9XUjphQ2EzbuELuolZP61eEAlVlW5EfJfxfWpZYAXAceaCT8KaS3QfyIHp5A/s320/gamblehouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357943814487732258" border="0" /></a><br />I'd been there before, years ago. I don't rave over everything Arts and Crafts, but I admire it. The houses in the neighborhood I grew up in were beautiful, turn of the century bungalows of a similar asthetic. Sometimes I miss them.<br /><br />All the polished wood, the carvings, the carefully chosed furniture, made me want to run home, tear down the apartment building, and start over. For now, I'll settle on continuing to work on the parts of my apartment that I can change (more on that someday...).<br /><br />(I advised Tech Support that this would be a fun place to take his Mom.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uOtF9auriMl62uT0PL0eMtEDcudMOcmPpkJjDl96WmnkaEZKR6xe0vzke0oieG9Zvw7J79WiHatHlxFs1IgPoHbugn9QR-il-OGykqcyCowpMeuwygsvJTiFOR38pz30PwvnDA/s1600-h/HuntingtonTheo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uOtF9auriMl62uT0PL0eMtEDcudMOcmPpkJjDl96WmnkaEZKR6xe0vzke0oieG9Zvw7J79WiHatHlxFs1IgPoHbugn9QR-il-OGykqcyCowpMeuwygsvJTiFOR38pz30PwvnDA/s320/HuntingtonTheo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357943812180599362" border="0" /></a><br />After the Gamble House we went over to the Huntington and had lunch. We wandered through the exhibits, finding even a little more Green & Green for my Aunt's inexhaustible appetite. We then went out and sweltered with the plants (it was a hot day).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhExk-VKUSQhCWlG4n11T5ZGNw3Blr9fTm8n9EViDUqpyfdkDsTY9jBYw7NUkqmY3qg88OXrYIUNVGcIqAgUEQ9GjVpm9UT6NNHuf_ZM8BKtD28SDhc1OszjLD5fJ7j-VoIYraVg/s1600-h/theendoftheday.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhExk-VKUSQhCWlG4n11T5ZGNw3Blr9fTm8n9EViDUqpyfdkDsTY9jBYw7NUkqmY3qg88OXrYIUNVGcIqAgUEQ9GjVpm9UT6NNHuf_ZM8BKtD28SDhc1OszjLD5fJ7j-VoIYraVg/s320/theendoftheday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371122659112825906" border="0" /></a><br />And then we were done. (Except for some traffic, but we're being nostalgic and have already forgotten about it).eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-8051191416224258742009-08-13T07:45:00.000-07:002009-08-13T08:08:35.372-07:00And for just five dollars more...As promised, the night before last, Tech Support came home to curry yakisoba.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnH-LIWxAVZ6IH_Q6IsKr9Ucj8b5u0PoOiTRP0OuOpdV56Db7SsTA_kUYZGPnaK2wqseiEzV-mTT0btvnT3y9pj3yqqWjq7eDNtdeZ2zUKkTJpBRdrHlnchyrUbiuVnCj_DBqiw/s1600-h/curryyakisoba.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnH-LIWxAVZ6IH_Q6IsKr9Ucj8b5u0PoOiTRP0OuOpdV56Db7SsTA_kUYZGPnaK2wqseiEzV-mTT0btvnT3y9pj3yqqWjq7eDNtdeZ2zUKkTJpBRdrHlnchyrUbiuVnCj_DBqiw/s320/curryyakisoba.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369461040274094418" border="0" /></a><br />I'd planned on saving some for lunch the next day, but wound up finishing it off instead.<br /><br />Then, last night we did the Kurobuta Bulgogi.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFuhc0dAmELYoozGfsTXUFHtbVzO-DZyD6Lt8hlymYN_ae3QbmzQYGoZzYjMo55tpXGCx1pnMpZ_zXqfe_7Ksbg6vqMkDnL9jFnZcHywaHkaSO1VUU1f-ianXrtACSlp5XS8johw/s1600-h/bulgogi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFuhc0dAmELYoozGfsTXUFHtbVzO-DZyD6Lt8hlymYN_ae3QbmzQYGoZzYjMo55tpXGCx1pnMpZ_zXqfe_7Ksbg6vqMkDnL9jFnZcHywaHkaSO1VUU1f-ianXrtACSlp5XS8johw/s320/bulgogi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369461048627604690" border="0" /></a><br />That too was delicious. Both dishes were too easy to make, requiring only a little sauteing, piling everything up and putting the lid on top for a few minutes. I feel like I'm cheating, or part of an infomercial for obscure Japanese clay pots.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-40517402109690233322009-08-11T19:02:00.000-07:002009-08-11T19:17:53.835-07:00Entering My Experimental PhaseI've been reading <a href="http://naokomoore.com/">Naoko's blog</a> for at least two years. Who knows where she gets the energy to work hard, make dinner, and then blog about it almost every day, but I'm grateful. Over the past year or so she's started using and importing Japanese Donabe, clay pots. She makes it look good.<br /><br />I wanted one.<br /><br />I had a birthday.<br /><br />Tech Support is a wonderful boyfriend.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoD1moPgUvhEF7nS-1ZQEImyPBmIaI3euldncOE7aRnC0-YW0FYUyMg43mYWWrszgKvFVTKfUTSSB0di0sZngvetlXwseQ706zVbqlv4_da4TKr_pyj6HkQNWvp_drppgJlbF52A/s1600-h/smokedsalmon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoD1moPgUvhEF7nS-1ZQEImyPBmIaI3euldncOE7aRnC0-YW0FYUyMg43mYWWrszgKvFVTKfUTSSB0di0sZngvetlXwseQ706zVbqlv4_da4TKr_pyj6HkQNWvp_drppgJlbF52A/s320/smokedsalmon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368895751265621506" border="0" /></a><br />And in return for being so, he gets a large share of <a href="http://www.toirokitchen.com/toiro/Easy_Smoke.html">smoked salmon and asparagus</a>. Tonight he's getting <a href="http://www.toirokitchen.com/toiro/Curry_Yakisoba.html">curry yakisoba</a>, and later this week he'll get <a href="http://www.toirokitchen.com/toiro/Kurobuta_Bulgogi.html">kurobuta pork bulgogi</a>.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-5552726098456099952009-07-12T09:29:00.000-07:002009-07-13T06:57:10.306-07:00One Thing (One Thing) Leads to Another...I figured out how to make ricotta gnocchi sometime within the last year. Since it was so easy to freeze and cook up and so tasty I wound up making it 5-6 times within a number of weeks. Tech Support's eyes turned the color of tomato cream sauce and he said "Ricotta gnocchi again?" like a man facing a firing squad. After finishing up the last frozen bag-full I laid off of the ricotta for several months.<br /><br />Months and months later, the Kitchen Gnome in town, and Meggish and her Nick due for dinner, it was time to dive into the gnocchi once more. For kicks I decided to make the version from <span style="font-style: italic;">Apples for Jam</span> which is simpler than the <span style="font-style: italic;">Cooks Illustrated</span> version, but has a tomato pesto sauce.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RB60RWzlrcv3a36aqYegZ4F_f_V_EArn6TZ8_RSqAJNM7hE_1oz4BlzpvK9KjA2Cu4wqaz5VPFRYh3pw91xkHKYktgVSdjbdCH7hs6Gll3v04hAnyiCuyvT5gC1KzulidLU7Yg/s1600-h/ricottagnocchipesto.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RB60RWzlrcv3a36aqYegZ4F_f_V_EArn6TZ8_RSqAJNM7hE_1oz4BlzpvK9KjA2Cu4wqaz5VPFRYh3pw91xkHKYktgVSdjbdCH7hs6Gll3v04hAnyiCuyvT5gC1KzulidLU7Yg/s320/ricottagnocchipesto.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357612916815996146" border="0" /></a><br />Good food and good company go well together.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBqddVFS78LqpFOOCDS95tv78i4GvunytWlU3EWoGMua0rXKbA9bsY3m7wajAtOWwpb1ZRhl-ho4olWycmxAk_X4EOWq6x6T3jYZbJi1vZiTgv_PH-z1DHefT-liiBdg2JloxyQ/s1600-h/pestognocchidinner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBqddVFS78LqpFOOCDS95tv78i4GvunytWlU3EWoGMua0rXKbA9bsY3m7wajAtOWwpb1ZRhl-ho4olWycmxAk_X4EOWq6x6T3jYZbJi1vZiTgv_PH-z1DHefT-liiBdg2JloxyQ/s320/pestognocchidinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357612909229209714" border="0" /></a><br />Though I'd seen it done and understood the basics, I'd never made pesto before that night. The tangy, garlic infused sauce inspired me and within the same week I had to make it again. I also made focaccia (a name I will never pronounce correctly), using <span style="font-style: italic;">Apples for Jam</span>'s recipe for that too. I laid it all out with some feta cheese.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN6bHov_HpuyT_fXGfNb-K3ayf1hHLBd70LTHBx4wtRC77RkXqnzTUXZTgx6OK4StgSxJZjBIH9f9IrF906nBsa84to59hvlBiyoMnB-ta2IywWvCj5lhybuJNgTLFFIY6cqxvQ/s1600-h/focosetup.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN6bHov_HpuyT_fXGfNb-K3ayf1hHLBd70LTHBx4wtRC77RkXqnzTUXZTgx6OK4StgSxJZjBIH9f9IrF906nBsa84to59hvlBiyoMnB-ta2IywWvCj5lhybuJNgTLFFIY6cqxvQ/s320/focosetup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357612906306949106" border="0" /></a><br />Despite having forgotten to put salt in the focaccia, it made a wonderful, snacky dinner.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6etCr4JMy1yONqbHAyqNOma6S04_dq0ceUMrcxFmTj0NwEN5ENaF1Vw7Vp6LFWy2HIB18JlEgf3wU9aVMUm64z_l0wKL5nuG0YiW6cvEzvFDolg3kbUMyNCx9vA4rkVSjPS9mtQ/s1600-h/focosandwich.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6etCr4JMy1yONqbHAyqNOma6S04_dq0ceUMrcxFmTj0NwEN5ENaF1Vw7Vp6LFWy2HIB18JlEgf3wU9aVMUm64z_l0wKL5nuG0YiW6cvEzvFDolg3kbUMyNCx9vA4rkVSjPS9mtQ/s320/focosandwich.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357612904126792466" border="0" /></a><br />I'm going to lay off the tomato pesto for a bit though, to make sure Tech Support doesn't get sick of it too soon.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19254858.post-33816816329768110362009-06-30T09:56:00.000-07:002009-06-30T10:29:18.182-07:00Don't Do It Half-WayWhen we got to the booth the lights were on bright. Everyone sat down, but after a moment I got back up again and headed for the knob on the opposite wall.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKZ_bNNVYHBMUgKDqwG4dQpDDwWTm3v1TuT0x2P451nQkO-eJdlSDznRfGIKanCaN9EBzyN8tTioveUSnna9pXDqjJ-Oq-GThxJNytG8k3vMBU8078BwWffIwlEH-sW_Z3xs8ig/s1600-h/karaoke3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKZ_bNNVYHBMUgKDqwG4dQpDDwWTm3v1TuT0x2P451nQkO-eJdlSDznRfGIKanCaN9EBzyN8tTioveUSnna9pXDqjJ-Oq-GThxJNytG8k3vMBU8078BwWffIwlEH-sW_Z3xs8ig/s320/karaoke3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353165871345975154" border="0" /></a><br />That's better. Karaoke was not meant to in the harsh light of reality. After all, who are we kidding? We're not there because we're talented singers on the way to the top. We're not practicing. We're not going to be the next White Stripes or Patsy Cline.<br /><br />But we like to pretend.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWp8LhQvt_UH6GenZvmI4fbkV2KBX_fakdM7gNs2VPk14VF35N22dNLHl3VfL1l-5_u1GBDJq_qvGvpbpbo42PnssB2V0d1Ue8gqMOn437DJeVrto7C4EEOC7eVe984L5zDB5PPQ/s1600-h/karaoke5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWp8LhQvt_UH6GenZvmI4fbkV2KBX_fakdM7gNs2VPk14VF35N22dNLHl3VfL1l-5_u1GBDJq_qvGvpbpbo42PnssB2V0d1Ue8gqMOn437DJeVrto7C4EEOC7eVe984L5zDB5PPQ/s320/karaoke5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353165883885134402" border="0" /></a><br />To karaoke properly you have to put your whole body into it. That's why I don't do karaoke bars. I'm not interested in exposing myself to strangers that way.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRRx-fYosS3KfKzXP5AhCJBrRzY3m16vn1OCNIKBlv6Mhv1wnDJ5gI9-fnXEr6EEz2EIC1CtTthM7HRSYz4a-VqnhvSwRtvc_zbai67VU1qP01P9L6Hq3_g0pvFVyxK8iHnnkMQ/s1600-h/karaoke7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRRx-fYosS3KfKzXP5AhCJBrRzY3m16vn1OCNIKBlv6Mhv1wnDJ5gI9-fnXEr6EEz2EIC1CtTthM7HRSYz4a-VqnhvSwRtvc_zbai67VU1qP01P9L6Hq3_g0pvFVyxK8iHnnkMQ/s320/karaoke7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353166503043609346" border="0" /></a><br />In the comfortable companionship of friends and family, the lights dim, the sound turned up loud -- we rock. I lay down across one seat and start taking pictures at odd angles, timed to be blurry and indistinct.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EPPPD1l7NnLucO9hyphenhyphenVOGDV-d-pkPHGiVaSM2ONJb-AjsablBDukIw0T9TcgZRlS85LcVo4KpzZKtD4Xzmz-RcGQux7OkVBScB4NxR0UD_ERjmX1PhJTIpq_hwY5tJwUac-9LVQ/s1600-h/karaoke2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EPPPD1l7NnLucO9hyphenhyphenVOGDV-d-pkPHGiVaSM2ONJb-AjsablBDukIw0T9TcgZRlS85LcVo4KpzZKtD4Xzmz-RcGQux7OkVBScB4NxR0UD_ERjmX1PhJTIpq_hwY5tJwUac-9LVQ/s320/karaoke2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353165872684815906" border="0" /></a><br />I'm operating on far too little sleep. The plot of my story still vexes me. Everyone else is dealing with the stress of daily life. But belting out Major Tom, 1234, Kids, Wheel of Fortune, I love College, Starlight, and whatever Japanese songs have tickled J-Po's fancy, who really cares about such petty crap?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5gpYJE15-Fyc5BmgE0XjlcFb4KocY6oUanvlz7EIZCn3MT4Ky3BkThUY55mXnGarY4bD_MDAJkE7Z4Arf-EK1DwGXJPfiHZLsYEUGiEj1FcDk0ZjfEGxBEl-zZBlAXXwpSwG4Q/s1600-h/karaoke1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5gpYJE15-Fyc5BmgE0XjlcFb4KocY6oUanvlz7EIZCn3MT4Ky3BkThUY55mXnGarY4bD_MDAJkE7Z4Arf-EK1DwGXJPfiHZLsYEUGiEj1FcDk0ZjfEGxBEl-zZBlAXXwpSwG4Q/s320/karaoke1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353165866776940594" border="0" /></a><br />After all, I can do a mean version of Jealous Guy.eatrawfishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12811636877725664348noreply@blogger.com0