Talking heads= the best part of the Olympics

Right now we're watching the men's 50K crosscountry skiing event, and the idiots they have doing commentary clearly have no idea what the hell they're talking about. So far, they've produced the following gems:

1. Repeatedly referring to the sport as "skating."
2. "Somewhere in this pack is a man who knows what he's going to do. Maybe more than one."
3. "If you are going to make a move here, you better have a Plan B. In case it doesn't work."

The Closing Ceremonies are coming up. I have high hopes for hilarity ensuing.

I've been working from home for a week now, and I think it will suit me just fine. It will be better when I have a dog, and continuous internet access, and I'll have to find a hobby with other people so I don't go nuts, but it's going to be good.

There's been only one disturbing trend so far. Since I'm sitting at the kitchen table right now until we get a desk for downstairs, I tend to look out of the windows a lot. Fine on its own, yes. But there's this preschool across the street... and I found myself bizarrely interested yesterday when I saw the teachers setting up some sort of special activity outside. Seriously. I was totally fascinated by what these kids were doing, mainly because it was something different.

I was also completely let down when the special activity turned out to be jumping back and forth across a rope that had been laid on the ground. Stupid boring preschoolers.

Welcome to the Rockies, y'all.

It's been just about a week since the men brought our things to our new house. The move itself went fairly well, and they only broke a couple of things, which is probably better than we would have done. I am sorry to say that Steve the Ikea plant didn't make it. The moving truck came over the mountains at the same time as a record cold snap hit, and he just kind of froze and died. Before he went, though, he was able to scrabble together this note:




Aw, come on. It's been like two months since those miners died. Let Steve bask in some of that pathos. He was a good plant. We also had a couple of other little houseplants that we put in our trunk, but like stupid Californians we didn't bring them in at night, so they didn't make it either.

In other less horrific news, we're getting pretty well adjusted. I got my driver's license AND plates in just two days. It's a completely different experience than anything I've ever seen in California, Nevada, or Florida. You know how the DMV is pretty much like a bus terminal in some third-world country? Chickens, baskets on heads, the fetid smell of digested spices?

In Colorado, this is simply not the case. Chris and I walked into the clean, quiet driver's license office here in Douglas County, and waited for about five minutes until we were helped (in English!) by pleasant and communicative government employees. I know, super weird. At the registration office, I was told that the lady would be happy to wait with my paperwork while I ran next door to the ATM. Unreal, I tell you. People are just so damn friendly here.

Another example -- I had to take my car over to the Honda dealer to get the front plate bracket put on. I was greeted by a non-smarmy maintenance guy who walked me over to the parts counter, stood there until the parts lady found the part in stock, then asked for my keys so he could move my car for me. He came back some minutes later to ask if I wanted him to put the new plates on, too.

It was below zero that day, and the underside of my car was encrusted with dirty ice. When I realized that I wasn't going to have to hunker down in the snowy hotel parking lot and try to wrest off my old license plate with frozen, numb fingers, I nearly cried.

"Firsts" -- As required by moving law.

Dinner, on the night we moved in. Yep, that's pizza and beer you're looking at. We could have done something else, but it just didn't seem right.

Running the dishwasher! YAAAAAAAYYYYY!!! For those of you who had to listen to us bitch about handwashing everything for the last year, you will understand how particularly sweet this was.

The rest of the drive.

I don't believe I ever shared these photos. Coming over the mountains was one of the most beautiful drives I've ever taken. I'd like to thank my four-cylinder Honda Civic, the Blue Death Arrow, for thinking she could. Do you ever do that thing where you're leaning forward in your car to help it over a hill? Yeah.


This is the little mining town of Silverton. It was way cuter than any mountain town has any right being. We didn't see any stop lights.

Technical difficulties.

Pssst. Avast there. The internet be back. Stand by, and keep a weather eye open. It be too late to alter course, mateys, and there be plundering pirates lurking in every cove, waitin' to board. Sit closer together and keep yer ruddy hands inboard! That be the best way to repel boarders. And mark well me words, mateys, Dead men tell no tales!

Pictures not featuring a stuffed cat.

During our beautiful tour/death march through the Southwest, we managed to take some pictures without Hello Kitty in them. The Grand Canyon was awesome, and the weather cooperated enough for us to snap a few pictures before dark set in. Before this, the closest I had ever come to the Grand Canyon was the diorama that you ride through on the Disneyland Railroad. I couldn't help but sing the loopy cowboy music that goes along with it and look around for the stuffed goats on the rock.... and then the dinosaur music. Because it comes right after the loopy cowboy music.

Why eff it up by putting people in it?

Ba-DUP, BA-dup, ba-DUP, BA-dup.... (hokey Disneyland music). Actually, I'm screwing with you. This is actually just photos from inside the train ride.

No, really, this is the Grand Canyon.

Nah, it's Disneyland. It's true. (All of this is very funny if you've seen Eddie Izzard's Dress to Kill)

Hello Kitty: The Journey Continues.

Hello Kitty enjoyed the Grand Canyon very much...


... but we had to tell her to stop eating the wildlife. From the look of this spine, it was a pretty big critter to begin with. Discoveries like this are why stopping at "restrooms" inside "buildings" is totally overrated.


We are so high. And by that I mean two miles and 80 feet up from sea level. We later crested a pass that was well over 11,000 feet, but by then we had decided that we no longer had time for pictures.

Hello Kitty Everywhere (Southwest Edition)

For those of you who were lucky enough to see the first edition of Hello Kitty Everywhere, you will perhaps recall some of the fabulous locations that Kitty has already seen, including New Orleans and Crawford, Texas (home of the Bushes.) I might get crazy and post 'em here. But anyway, this last road trip of ours afforded Miss Kitty a chance to see and be seen in entirely new places. I bring you... Hello Kitty Everywhere Southwest Edition. If you are good, I will put it on a DVD with the rest.

Can you spot her on the left? I had never actually been to the Fabulous Las Vegas sign, but the HKE project knows no limits. Or shame.





This was taken just on the far side of Hoover Dam.


There was a bit of a breeze, so Chris is in this photo to make sure that Hello Kitty didn't visit the bottom of the dam as well.


Here it is, kids. Hello Kitty is in both Nevada and Arizona. I know, I totally just blew your mind.

Outrageous weather report.

We just saw a weather report on the local news here. It's 6:45 pm, and the temperature is holding steady at 0 Fahrenheit (that's -18 Celsius).

However.

With the windchill, it's -21 F.

NEGATIVE TWENTY-ONE. That's -29 Celsius.

As Seen in Vegas

Hey, how are you feeling today? Are you well?

"Wellish Vision Institute: Fairly Precise and Pretty Experienced."

For Nathan

Yes, it's the 7-11 you're thinking of.



This 7-11 represents everything that was wrong with Prestige Travel, the terrible travel agency where Nathan and I briefly worked together in Las Vegas. For some reason that I still am unable to fathom, it was frowned upon for us to be seen together outside of the office. We couldn't eat lunch together or take a break together. I even had to get a PO box so no one would know that we lived together. That's an awful lot of nepotism precautions for a company entirely run by one family, yes?

Anyway, Nathan and I would go into CIA mode at break time. He would leave two minutes before me and we would hang out behind 7-11, on the opposite side of the office building where we worked. Good times.

PS -- remember this Terrible's?

Thanks for waiting.

We've now been in Denver for a couple of days, and even pretty much finished closing on the house. I'm taking Chris to his first day of kindergarten work, and after that it's going to be chores and blogging. So sit back and wait for the hilarity to ensue.


Key hotel interaction thus far:

Me: "Hi, can I have an extra blanket? I noticed the first room we were in had one."
Front Desk Monkey: "And there's not one in this room?"
Me: "Um, no." (Thinking, why would I be asking otherwise?)

Dinneyland!!!

It's been at least three years since I was at Disneyland, and about eight for Chris. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, staying nearly the entire day. Check it out.

They've redone Space Mountain to its immense benefit. Gone are the cheesegrater walls, the tire pressure gauge spaceship, and the oatmeal cookie meteors. They've sleeked it up nice. I was very stoked, glad to see it make its way out of the seventies.

Um. Look, I'm not trying to be critical here, but maybe Disney shouldn't make such a big deal out of special bus stops for white folks.

Hey! It's the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland! You don't see her too often, so I got a picture. The problem with having worked for der Maus is that I know that this is probably actually a very tall boy.

The submarines are back! Whoo Hoo! Thank you Nemo!

Here's a picture of the lanterns above the Mad Tea Party -- the 50th Anniversary touches are absolutely everywhere, including here. Mickey-shaped and everything!

Attention Italy: No.

When we got into Anaheim on Friday night, we tuned into the Olympic opening ceremony, mostly to mock what some performance artist thought would be a heartrending representation of Italy and her people, interpreted through leotard-wearing stiltwalkers. Or whatever. The opening ceremonies of any Olympics are all similarly overboard and needlessly conceptual.

So there we were, drinking Bud light and watching giant balloons collide in a move that symbolizes the unity and fraternity of people worldwide, when the tri-language announcers brought on the next act: a Formula One Ferrari. Now, that's cool, as Italy is all about the Ferraris. But as the driver was sitting there, revving his engine, we wanted desperately to know what this guy was going to do in the confines of the stadium.

The answer: donuts.

Yeah. All the glory, dignity, and honor of the Olympic Games, distilled down into an asshole doing donuts in the middle of the stadium. For like, a long time. Bob Costas was trying very hard to keep it together, and managed to spit out, "Well. That's certainly a first for the Olympics." Just terrible.

photo credit: AP

Let the moving begin!

I'm finally in Vegas, and we've done a crazy amount of stuff in the last two days. On Friday night, after the moving men were done taking everything away in the truck, Chris and I went down to the beach for one last sunset. Here it is.

This man wants to clean your clothes.

For the last year, we've been driving past the Velvet Touch Cleaners saying, "We have GOT to take a picture of this guy." Right before we left town forever, we finally got round to it. Just super creepy -- but an excellent marketing idea, as I'll never forget where there's a cleaners in Pacific Beach.

Gaze into his hypnotic eyes and know, deep down, that he really wants to clean your clothes.

Attention Aussies: No.

It has come to my attention that you people eat Lifesavers in "musk" flavor. Apparently it's sort of sweet-perfumey. Even if this was tasty, which the jury is out on until I try them, why in holy hell could no one come up with a better name than MUSK? This is the same word used to describe the odorous glandular secretion from the male musk deer. Not candy. Just thought I'd sort that out for you.

P. S. -- Craig -- when I get my new address I am demanding a roll of these in the post. Get on it. Thanks.

Best bad waitress ever.

Chris came up to the neighborhood where I work to go with me to a party that was sponsored by some of my co-workers. We had a great time listening to Hubert's wisdom about Japanese noise bands. No, I don't know what it's all about either. At any rate, after we left we got some dinner at Islands.

What was our first clue that something was terribly wrong? As we were waiting for our food, our waitress brought us someone else's credit card and check. "That's not ours," we said. She looked confused, so I elaborated with "We haven't eaten yet."

The food came, it was great, and someone came by to take it away. Not thirty seconds later, our waitress dropped off another round of iced tea. At the time, I thought it a bit odd to bring us more drinks and not mention the check, but she seemed in a hurry and we thought nothing more of it.

After a while being left alone, food coma set in and we started to get antsy about the fact that we hadn't gotten the check yet. Then, out of nowhere, our waitress swoops in with an armful of food and a big smile on her face. "Here ya go, sorry about the wait."

Um. No, we said. "Why not?" she asked, clearly very confused and vexed as to why we did not want to eat the delicious food she had brought us. "Because we've already eaten." This was quickly becoming the most bizarre restaurant experience we've ever had. "Oh my god, oh no. I looked over at you guys and you had drinks and no food and I thought that I had just completely forgotten about you so I put in new orders. Are you sure you don't want this? I can totally wrap it to go for you."

We actually found ourselves trying to explain to her that we were going to be gone the next day and so a whole meal in the fridge would go completely to waste. As she walked away with the food, I mouthed "High?" to Chris. He nodded emphatically. Just like in a movie or something, she came back with our change. "Please count that, I'm feeling stupid. I know there's a mistake."

Sure enough, she was $10 short. Today's lesson, kids: Do not come to work high -- you will only confuse yourself and piss off your customers.