The Great Weaver Migration of '09

Adventures in Los Angeles

2009-03-01T18:57:00.006-05:00

Just so you know, that show Gangland on the History Channel is wrong. I'm sure there are gangs here, and I'm sure their numbers are legion, but every surface in LA is not covered in threatening turf-marking graffiti and not everyone here is trying to shoot me. Run me off the road maybe, but not shoot me. Now that that's settled, we can move on.

Thursday night we went to In-N-Out Burger, which of course we don't have in the Midwest. That's too bad too, because our Dad would love it. Dad talks longingly of the days when McDonald's served only burgers, fries, and soda and that's exactly what In-N-Out has! We each got a cheeseburger, shared some fries (those were especially good but I feel bad for the potato-peeling kid), and had milkshakes. All good. We'll have to make sure to take Dad to one so he can enjoy the simplicity of it.

Friday was Kamiah's last day out here, so we spent the day hitting some tourist highlights of LA, or at least the bits Kamiah wanted to see before heading back to the Great White North. First on the list was the Getty Museum. The grounds are lovely, but the view is...well, limited. See the contrast?

The Getty claims to be an art museum, but Kamiah read somewhere that it was really somewhere you could enjoy walking around while occasionally viewing some art if you felt like it. Turned out that was right. They have some lovely pieces, and we especially enjoyed the portrait exhibit but it didn't feel much like an art museum. So much the better for Sid! I'm not sure he enjoyed it quite like Kamiah did. They did, however, have a Monet painting of the cathedral at Rouen, where Kamiah used to live. We took her picture with it (what else to do when she's lived there?):

After that we drove along Sunset Blvd to gawk at rich people's houses. We saw Bel Air, prompting Kamiah to repeat parts of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme song (Sid secretly enjoyed that, I'm sure) and then turned down Beverly Dr to look at some more accessible rich people's houses. We could even get out and walk around there without getting the bum's rush! But I have to say the signs in some yards warning of an armed response to intrusions did kind of say "Get out!"

Last on the list was Hollywood (of course). We slowed foot traffic staring at stars on the street, and annoyed Sid was calling out the names we knew as we found them, and looked at all the handprints and signatures in front of Grauman's Theater. These are for Mom and Dad:

That was a pretty full day of sightseeing (and driving - driving takes a lot of concentration here and is therefore tiring) so we relaxed at the house a bit before we met Aunt Pam and Uncle Rich for dinner. They live down in Fountain Valley, not too far away! It's nice to have some family close again. Added bonus, to get to dinner we got to drive over a bridge we'd all been staring at since we got here. It's huge and runs over the harbor here (we're next to the Port of LA) and at night they light it up with blue lights. This also allowed us an up close view of a shipping yard and about 3 billion shipping containers. Whoo hoo?

In closing, LA is pretty great. Lots to do, and no one has tried to shoot us. Yet.

My Last Name is More Confusing Than I Thought

2009-02-27T10:45:00.002-05:00

Romeo cannot stay in TLF with us. That's how this story starts. So he's at the house, in his pen, just waiting for us to come along and let him out, feed him, etc. It's my job to do exactly that each morning, since he's my puggy.

This morning I decided to swing by the Starbucks just outside our housing area to get a coffee because Kamiah and Sid were still sleeping when I left. This is the conversation I had with the Starbucks chick (I'm sure she had a name, but I'm not big on pre-coffee reading, especially nametags).

Me: I'd like a grande coffee.
SC: What's your name?
Me: Weaver.
SC: Weaver?
Me: Yes.
SC (sounding uncertain): Ooh. Weaver...I better just put 'W'. I don't want to screw that up!

I'm sure you can imagine the look on my face. Weaver? Really? Weaver?! She didn't want to screw *that* up? That's the easy name! The gimmee. Imagine if I'd said 'Oesa'.

So I have a new plan. I'm just going to cycle through the names of everyone I know, using a different name every time I'm there. At least you all have easier names.

In closing, thanks for nothing, American educational system. Our kids can't spell 'Weaver', and that's a regular word!

Even the Base is Nice!

2009-02-27T00:22:00.005-05:00

While Kamiah and Sid were out touring the area and then getting the interwebs hooked up at the house, I was up at the base checking in and getting a tour. This is my chance to say to everyone, instead of answering the question a dozen times, my new job seems pretty good. The base is *really* nice. Very new, very modern, very shiny glass and concrete...and very small. I work in another area across the street, which I guess is good because the people on the base proper have to park some distance away and take a shuttle onto the base.

The traffic was even alright. Coming in at least. I went in around 12:30 and it took me 25 minutes. I drove home at about 3:30, at which point traffic on I-405 (which I'm on for 7.5mi) was stop on go and never got above 35 mph. The drive home took 45 minutes. Still, not too bad...

I met some of my coworkers today too, but it's hard to meet them all because apparently they're gone a lot. They seem like a good crowd anyhow, and hopefully I can hit the ground running instead of just...hitting the ground. Seems like I'll need to since there are so few of us. Also, my building is a bit confusing. The halls look the same everywhere. I'm guessing I'll have to do that learn-one-way-in-and-stick-with-it trick for a bit.

In closing, the base is pretty and new, my job seems neat, and my coworkers are cool. Not too bad, eh?

A Pictorial Tour of Our House

2009-02-26T23:54:00.009-05:00

Because it'll be awhile till anyone but my sister sees our new place, here is a short-ish pictorial tour. Our stuff won't be in till next week, so right now we're shopping for new desks, a couch, and another bathroom worth of stuff. I suspect now that I've opened myself up to decorating ideas...mistake.

First, yes, this is actually the view from the master bedroom. Apparently those are the Catalina islands off in the distance. It's pretty here!

This is taken standing just inside the front door, looking through the living room to the back door. The kitchen is off to the left of that pile o' stuff.

This is, of course, the kitchen. Or "kichen" on the floorplans. Ah, typos...

The room we're going to use as a dining room. Mostly because there's nowhere else, but also because it's nice in there.

Standing in the corner with the pile o' stuff looking back toward the front door. The door you can see at the back actually leads to the garage, and the front door is to the left of that.

Looking into the master bedroom. And there's that view again!

Standing in the master bedroom looking back down the hall. There's a walk-in closet to the left and the master bath is to the right. Next thing on the left is a laundry room (yes, on the second floor, I thought that was odd as well). One of the other bedrooms is at the end of the hall, with the third on the left and the second bathroom on the right.

And that concludes our less-than-fascinating tour of the house. At least now if you come visit you have a decent chance of finding your way to a room before the wolves get you.

When Your Spine's in Line...

2009-02-26T19:27:00.002-05:00

Ok, so I wrote this post a couple of days ago, while we were still on the road. I think I wrote it somewhere between Las Cruces, NM, and Florence, AZ, but for various non-interesting reasons, I'm just posting it now. As you read this, pretend you've time-travelled back a few days to when we were still driving. That'll make this more fun.

*****

Sitting in a car for 6ish hours a day is not the best thing you can do for your spine. You should trust me when I say things like that; I work for SpineUniverse.com. I’m a fake doctor.

My real title is Medical Writer, but since I started at SpineUniverse, I’ve learned so much about the spine and spine treatments that I often forget that I haven’t actually attended medical school.

In fact, all I have is an English degree, but I’m an English major who can spit out facts about epidural steroid injections and how our intervertebral discs dehydrate as we age.

So the other day when I was driving and I felt a twinge of pain, I said, “I think I have a twisted coccyx.”

I should point out here that learning so much about my spine has caused me to become somewhat of a hypochondriac.

When I was writing an article series on osteoporosis, I diagnosed myself as high risk. I do have a few of the risk factors—I’m small-boned and I’m pretty sure that my Grandma Walker had osteoporosis (the woman got shorter and shorter, and eventually even I was taller than her)—but I do a lot of good things to counteract bone loss, such as exercising and drinking a lot of milk (my daily latte really ups my calcium level, right?) and watching my vitamin D intake. I need to calm down.

My twisted coccyx diagnosis, then, is most likely not real. But saying something like “coccydynia” sounds so much cooler than whining, “My back hurts.”

All I needed to do the other day was some basic back stretches, so that’s what I did when we got to Las Cruces and the Inn of the Arts.

If I were a really good doctor (or if I really were a doctor, slight rearrangement and adjustment of words to make that a truer statement), I probably would’ve been doing these stretches every day and making Oesa and Sid do them, too.

At the very least, you’d think I could’ve written them a prescription for these stretches.

Sid and Kamiah Navigate LA and End Up Buying Oranges

2009-02-26T19:10:00.006-05:00

Oesa had to go to the base today to check in. I’m almost certain that there’s a more technical, acronym-filled Air Force term for that, but I don’t remember it right now. The only acronyms I’ve got down are PCS and FBI, and only one of those actually applies to this trip.

So Oesa was gone, leaving Sid and me alone with Romeo, a map of LA—actually multiple maps of LA; this is a very large city—and several hours to fill.

Sid, the ever practical Sid, had made an appointment for the cable and Interweb man to come this afternoon. Oesa and Sid may not have furniture or soap in all of the bathrooms yet, but they can watch TV and use Skype. Well, the TV is still on the moving truck somewhere between Melbourne, FL, and San Pedro, CA, so I guess they can’t watch TV.

But the cable guy wasn’t coming until 1:00 (or 1300 hours, in military-speak—look at me trying to blend in!). At 11:00, I said, “I want to go to the Redondo Beach Farmers’ Market.”

Yesterday when we checked into TLF—hey, there’s another acronym I know!—Sid and I, between the two of us, picked up every brochure they had in the lobby. I grabbed info on studio tours we could take, the Catalina Express, where to go in Hollywood, and this one brochure called “The OC: Forever Summer.” I’m not sure, but I don’t think they’re talking about the TV show.

Sid had picked up a brochure on Redondo Beach, so really, it’s as if he led me to declaring, just two hours before the cable man was to come, that I wanted to go look through vegetable and fruit stalls. There were also supposed to be gorgeous, just-picked-this-morning flowers.

I consulted several maps, and all of them led me to the same conclusion: we could definitely make it from their house in San Pedro to the Farmers’ Market and back again before 1:00.

It was just a 30-minute drive, which I believe in LA counts as “in your neighborhood.” Along the way, Sid and I noticed that practically every mini-mall has these stores: a donut shop (not a Dunkin’ Donuts; these are all local donut shops such as Granny’s Donuts), a nail place, and a store related to pet things (grooming them, buying them, etc.). It’s possible that there’s a section of the city code that dictates these mini-mall elements; that’s how universal that store selection was.

I’ve never been to a Farmers’ Market along the beach. The Farmers’ Market in my town is held next to the train tracks, so a view like this made me feel so organic and Californian as I looked through stalls that had many vegetables I’d never even heard of. Clearly, we’re in the land of produce here.

Here are some other pictures from the Farmers’ Market, including shots of Sid picking out oranges. Vitamin C, here we come.

And yes, we made it back in time for the cable guy. We pulled into the driveway at 12:49, and shockingly, the cable guy was already there. These are the people who say, “We’ll be there sometime between 1:00 and 3:00,” and then you carefully plan your day around that window. But there he was at 12:49, ready to get Oesa and Sid connected to the real world (technically, I guess it’s connected to the virtual world).

Amazing.

Joshua Tree Redux and We Find Food in LA

2009-02-25T23:55:00.009-05:00

We took the scenic route from 29 Palms to LA today, involving a lovely drive through Joshua Tree National Park. Kamiah and I were here when we were kids, hence 'redux'. We stopped at the park entry sign to get pictures, just like we did when we were kids (so here you go, Dad!). Notice Kamiah and I are wearing matching "Jr Ranger" t-shirts, purchased from the park welcome center. We figure we earned them - we were junior rangers here once, in the past...in the early '90s. But hey, we earned those shirts!

During our drive we went past the campgrounds, where we stopped to scramble around on the rocks and take pictures of each other looking triumphant. It's a sham, really - the pug could have made it up those rocks given enough time. And wings.

It was an uneventful drive into LA from there, but I do have to share one horrific picture with you. This is still 50 miles outside LA proper, but notice the smog in the distance. Even better, look closely at the left side of the photo and check out the wind farm. There was something truly ironic (and disheartening) about seeing this.

After getting 'settled' into TLF on Fort MacArthur, we headed out to find food in the area around our new house. Before I get too far into that, though, I should tell you this is the nicest AF Lodging ever. We have a two room suite with two flat screen TVs, a decent bed, a comfy couch, and an armchair which Sid claimed immediately. We even have wifi here!

And back to food. There's a mini-mall type thing across the street from our neighborhood and in that mini-mall is a Mexican restaurant called Pina's promising "authentic" Mexican food. I can't judge authenticness, being from Iowa and all, but I can tell you the food was great, and pretty cheap, AND they deliver! There was a layer of beans under everything on my plate (even the sour cream and guacamole that went with my taquitos!) enabling me to eat a bite of food that was just, beans, rice, sour cream, and guacamole. So good...

I guess that paragraph is a heads up - if you come out and visit before we make our way to the other restaurants (there appears to be a great deal of good food around us here) you'll be eating Mexican at least once.

In closing, I like food. And after rereading the last couple paragraphs, I realize I may like food a little too much...

Welcome Home

2009-02-25T20:24:00.008-05:00

Romeo looking around at LA. You can compare this to the picture of him I took while we were driving through Texas -- the one where he looks fantasitically bored. Here, you can see he's smiling, if pugs can be said to smile.

This is the view from the master bedroom. Please note:

the playground -- Sid and Oesa will have so much fun there! There's even a slide!
my reflection. I'm going to call this picture Untitled Self-Portrait #17
off in the distance -- represented in this picture by a bright glare -- is the OCEAN. Sid and Oesa have an OCEAN view. I'm so jealous I'm typing in ALL CAPS.

We'll take a better picture of this view this evening when we go back to the house...light should be better then to see the OCEAN.

Ok, so picture this: I'm standing in the dining room area taking this picture. On the right side of the picture is the kitchen, and Oesa and Romeo are standing in the living room area.

There, now you know the floorplan of the first floor. Except I forgot to mention the half-bath (aka, the powder room) and the random crawl space under the stairs (please see next picture).

Oesa and Sid in the really weird crawlspace under the stairs. It's carpeted and L-shaped. But don't they look like they're in Alice in Wonderland here?

This is the view from one of the spare rooms.

They're thinking of using this room as an office. The other bedroom will be the guest bedroom for when all you people come to visit, drawn by all this talk of OCEAN vistas. Notice how this room does not have an OCEAN view; it does, however, show the other houses in the subdivision.

And you can't see this, but just across the street is a mini-mall thing with a grocery store AND a Starbucks. What more do you need? (I was really excited to see that there was a nail place in the mini-mall, but I don't think Sid and Oesa were quite as excited about that.)

Sid heading out the sliding door to the patio.

If you go back to that floorplan in your mind, I'm standing with my back to the kitchen; this is the dining area. Also, I just really wanted to post this picture because I think it's "artsy." (From Sid's post on the 29 Palms Inn in Joshua Tree, I feel he's disparaging of "artsiness," so I've decided to showcase him in an "artsy" shot.)

Existential Dust

2009-02-24T22:50:00.001-05:00

We arrived in CA today, staying in Twentynine Palms for the night at a rustic (or maybe "artsy") inn. The drive to get out here was pretty nice. I do think I'll enjoy California, at least if it keeps being all mountainy and peaceful. I'm sure that will wear off after a bit, but right now, after coming from the Land of Flat, I'm liking having stuff to look at off in the distance, or in some cases, off in the very-close-by.

A few random musings from the trip so far. Driving through New Mexico yesterday whenever we would hit a flat patch out in the desert area we would see a sign that said "Blowing Dust May Exist". We all found this amusing, envisioning dust having a crisis of existence.

My worst experience on the trip so far occurred at a gas station as we were wending our way out of Louisiana. It was an Exxon station and there wasn't much else around. My general rule (at least from here on out) is to not stop someplace unless there are at least 2 major fast food chains around. It seems that when we haven't followed this rule we end up at a gas station where they seem to pride themselves on stocking only Bud, Miller, and Coors products rather than the cleanliness of their restrooms.

So anyways, we found ourselves at this Exxon station to fill up and unload. Walking into the Men's room (the type where there can be only one person at a time and you damn well better lock the door behind you) one immediately sees a sign on the urinal informing patrons it is out of order. However, based on further inspection (and a rank odor) we see this hasn't really stopped anyone from trying. Moving to door number 2 we see that no one has deemed it necessary to flush the one working commode in some time.

As you can imagine, the smell in the restroom might be labeled "Unsatisfactory" by this point. They do attempt to counterract the smell with one of those Airwick deodorizers that sprays a burst from an internal aerosol can every few minutes. This would be great if not for the fact that some sick bastard decided to affix this thing to the wall roughly 10 inches above the hand-dryer so as I'm drying my hands I all of a sudden get a blast of Ocean Breeze to the face. All I can say is thankfully I wear glasses or I'm sure this would have been a much more painful experience. The major downside to this predicament is that I spent the rest of the drive to Houston with this horrible stench burning my nostrils. That is why this qualifies as the worst experience on the trip so far.

I hope you've enjoyed this laugh at my expense.

California at last!

2009-02-24T22:35:00.002-05:00

Today we made it to California (huzzah!). We're spending our last night on the road at the 29 Palms Inn, located in, yes, 29 Palms, CA. It's a little place just above Joshua Tree National Park, where our family came camping when we were kids. It's a nice little place to be and only a few hours, barring traffic, from where we need to be in LA.

We're hoping to get to LA by early afternoon tomorrow so we can check into our house, check into temporary lodging, and get our bearings a bit. For those who don't know, we'll be down in (at least while we're in TLF) Fort MacArthur in San Pedro. You can see on the map that it's right next to the water so at least we should have some nice scenery.

Before we left Florence this morning we stopped at Casa Grande National Monument to look at the ruins. Very impressive, very big, and very old. The sings around the ruins explained that some of the windows near the top (3 stories) aligned with the sun at solstice and the moon every 18.5 years. We decided the building was a primitive version of Google's calendar tool. For comparison, we took a picture of me standing in front of the Casa Grande ruins with my Blackberry, which I think has a superior calendar function since it works year round. I'll have to post the pic tomorrow though because I drove to get internet access and I left the camera and cable in our room. Yep. Still got it...

Here's the story of my moderate panic this morning: As we went to leave Casa Grande I noticed my car wasn't locking and unlocking in response to my key fob. And then Sid's key fob too. You might be thinking this is minor but I experienced this once before just before my car battery died coming home from a trip. This cost me (and an uncharacteristically helpful and understanding Graves) a couple extra hours in Orlando. I was in no hurry to repeat this experience in a place relatively far off the beaten path in Arizona. It either had to be battery/alternator related or the key fobs themselves. Fortunately, there was a Walgreens nearby where I was able to procure new batteries for the key fobs and viola! problem solved. Whew.

The drive went quite well. I can say that because I didn't drive much today. Kamiah took over just before Phoenix (and did very well through the city, especially for someone who claims not to like driving) and drove all the way here. I very much appreciated this since my shoulder was killing me after yesterday's stint (who knew 6 days in the car would aggravate an injury like that?).

In closing, the trip has been great, but I'm really *really* happy to finally be in California. Now we just take care of getting moved in (next Monday or Tuesday, I guess) and getting checked into my new job. Whoo?

On Driving Through Cities Without Panicking

2009-02-24T20:22:00.006-05:00

I have discovered that the best way for me to drive through traffic -- say in New Orleans or Houston or Phoenix -- is to sing along very loudly with Broadway showtunes. And I mean very, very loudly.

I think it distracts me enough from panicking, although Oesa may disagree. Before I started driving in Phoenix today, she said, "It's going to be trafficky. Lots of construction. You can drive if you want, but no freaking out."

I don't freak out; I merely hyperventilate and try to choke the steering wheel. I find that I feel more in control when using a death grip. Perhaps steering wheels should come with a stress ball section -- you know, one very squeezable part. I think that would greatly decrease cases of road rage.

But no panicking for me today. I put in a CD my friend Katie made for me just for this trip -- Kamiah's Sing-along Soundtrack, Vol. 1. Yes, I also have Vol. 2, but that wasn't necessary today to get me through Phoenix.

"Good Morning, Baltimore" from Hairspray and "Shy" from Once Upon a Mattress and "America" from West Side Story. Those songs are right in my range and they all make me feel like a girl who can conquer anything, including narrow lanes in a Phoenix construction zone.

Later today, we were on Hwy 177, which I think is competing for the loneliest highway in America. No Broadway showtunes necessary there. It's just a 2-lane road that skirts Joshua Tree National Park, and if you close your eyes (which of course I didn't, seeing as I was driving), it feels like a very long roller coaster. Not a loopy one, more like those slightly bumpy ones you could ride at carnivals when you were little, the ones where you rode in a car with a dragon head.

For Hwy 177, I thought something more along the lines of quiet desperation was appropriate, given the giant swath of land laid before us. There's nothing like a huge view to make you feel angst-y and aware of your smallish-ness.

Thank heavens I have an entire playlist that really could and should be called "For moments of quiet desperation and angst." It's actually called "Woe to those who get what they want," a reference to an obscure short story I read once.

And now we're in Joshua Tree, CA, and I think a day where you can combine singing Broadway and being pensive is precisely what vacations are for. Or maybe that's only in my little world.

I went from Phoenix Arizona all the way to Tacoma...

2009-02-23T23:47:00.009-05:00

Well, not exactly, of course, but that's the song (Rockin' Me by Steve Miller) that was in my head this morning and really, it kind of fits. We'll be heading through Phoenix tomorrow. I've been to Philadelphia and Altanta recently too, so if I could swing Tacoma I'd have the song covered.

Today we made it to Rancho Sonora in Florence, AZ (between Tucson and Phoenix). New Mexico and Arizona are better driving than Texas and, believe it or not, there are distinguishing features. Here's how to tell them apart. Remember those photos of Texas I took with my phone yesterday? Well, I took a couple more today. This is New Mexico:

Notice that where Texas was flat, New Mexico has pointy mountains off in the distance. No really, they're kind of everywhere along I-10. Also, Texas was sort of tan and brown, but New Mexico is more yellow and green (well, greenish).

Here's Arizona:

Notice that Arizona has those big saguaro cactus. That's now you know you're in Arizona. Now before you laugh at this obvious over-simplification, know that for the most part this is exactly how I decide where pictures of childhood camping trips were taken. Different cactus, different looking mountains, different colors.

Kamiah and I had a lovely drive today (leaving Sid to himself in his car, where he happily listened to anything that wasn't showtunes or Dixie Chicks) reminiscing about our childhood experiences out here and trying to remember the last time we were on vacation in the southwest together. We're pretty sure it was 1997. But, just to show Mom and Dad not much has changed (except that we get along a lot better), here are a few pictures of us from the trip. Many thanks to Sid for patiently taking pictures of us when we ask.

Notice the somewhat matching shirts. Kamiah and I think they highlight our differences even while we 'match'.

Proving we're similar, here's Kamiah eating some butter at dinner tonight:

We went to a Greek place in Florence. They also serve breakfast (my favorite!) so we may go there again before heading to Casa Grande National Monument to look at the ruins.

We'll be in Twentynine Palms, CA tomorrow night - finally in California!

In closing, the food's not as plentiful here as it was in New Orleans, but we're still having a blast (well, maybe not Sid, the desert's not quite his thing yet) and best of all, no one has been eaten by wolves!

The Texas Sign Tautology

2009-02-23T08:46:00.002-05:00

I forgot to mention something yesterday that I found pretty hilarious during the drive across west Texas. Here is my chance to share it and see if it's actually funny or if I was just alone in the car too long.

As you drive on I-10 there are many signs posted warning you about various things (see Kamiah's post for the details) but my favorite was one that said "Obey Signs - State Law". So there was a sign telling me to obey the signs.

In my head the conversation went like this:
"Why'd you do what the sign said?"
"The sign told me to."

I call it the Texas sign Tautology. And I find it odd they'd have wasted their money on something like that when signage around the state is so poor. Really, we had a heck of a time getting back on the interstate in a few places because we didn't know which lane was going where.

So there, I laughed (or at least smiled) every time I saw that. You decide whether I'm crazy...

A Random Collection of Thoughts from West Texas

2009-02-22T23:52:00.001-05:00

Before every bridge, there’s a sign that says, “Watch for ICE on bridge.” It’s one of those flippy signs that they can fold up during the summer, but still ice warnings…Really, Texas—are you serious?

It’s February now, what I consider prime ice season, and even though it was chilly this morning in San Antonio—45ish—that’s still not cold enough to form ice. I’m a writer, not a scientist, but I’m pretty sure of this basic fact.

Also, I’m relatively certain that moisture has to be present to form ice, not just a chill in the air. Based on the amount of water flowing through the creeks (please pronounce that “criks” in your head) these bridges are spanning, there isn’t a whole lot of moisture to worry about.

So now I’m wondering: how often do the bridges in west Texas ice over? I would use Oesa’s BlackBerry to google me an answer, but Verizon’s 3G network coverage isn’t so strong out here. Those Verizon commercials with that nerdy but helpful-looking guy and the cast of thousands are lying to us.

Verizon is not America’s most reliable network. They are failing me in my hour of need. “Hour of need” is my cute nickname for west Texas.

Seven hours of need is more accurate, though.

Signs that are appropriate in west Texas:
Strong cross winds
Falling rocks
Blowing dust
Don’t mess with Texas (a sign warning you to not litter)
80 mph (no need to dawdle in west Texas. I think the appropriate cowboy word is “mosey.” We are not moseying in Texas.)

*****

I can now rate gas station bathrooms. This isn’t something I ever wanted to be able to rate.

Should you ever need to know: the Shell station bathroom in Kerrville, TX, has a spa-like feel. I’m not kidding. It has slate tiles on the floor and walls (or something that looks very like slate tile) and wooden doors on the stalls. All they were missing was a candle—maybe one that smells like spring rain / Yankee’s Candle’s interpretation of spring rain—and some Enya-esque music.

This bathroom really was a surprise because the Shell station is a combo convenience store and McDonald’s. I don’t associate either of those things with Zen.

*****

It does feel good to be out West again.

For those of you who don’t know, our family came out West—mostly to Utah—almost every year for vacation when Oesa and I were growing up. Every summer, we’d head out of eastern Iowa, leaving around 6:00 at night. Then we’d drive straight through to Glenwood Springs, CO, arriving the next day in the early afternoon.

And by “we’d drive,” I clearly mean that our parents would drive. I just had to do was try to find a comfortable position to sleep in, all while trying not to cross the imaginary dividing line between Oesa’s side of the car and my side.

If I did cross it in my sleep, it meant war, and I don’t mean the card game war. That imaginary dividing line is probably why, to this day, I can sleep in the craziest, perhaps-you-should-be-a-contortionist positions.

We’d make it to Colorado, and we’d get to stay one night at a hotel (the Hotel Colorado, where the teddy bear was invented—or so they say). And then for the next few weeks, we’d camp our way through the West, staying at places like Dead Horse Point, Canyonlands, and the San Rafael Swell (a swell place, my dad always says. Always—every time we mention the Swell, he says it’s a swell place. I fully expect him to comment on this post and talk about what a swell place the Swell is.).

My dad figured out that by the time I was 15, I’d spent a year-and-a-half of my life camping. The majority of those nights were in Utah, and my favorite nights were when we got to sleep under the stars. No tent.

So being out West now and seeing it again is like coming home.

I realized that it probably would be like this when Oesa and I had a discussion a few weeks ago debating the merits of different routes across the Southwest.

I don’t think this is a normal conversation for sisters from Iowa to have:
Me: Do you want to go through Joshua Tree or the Anza-Borrego?
Oesa: I have bad memories of the Anza-Borrego.
Me: Really? I got a Junior Ranger badge there in record time.
Oesa: You got a Junior Ranger badge everywhere. They should’ve just made you a park ranger.
Me: Maybe you would’ve enjoyed the Anza-Borrego more if you’d become a Junior Ranger, too.

It’s a normal sister conversation in that we’re arguing and debating memories from childhood, but it’s not normal in that we’re debating the merits of a state park and a national park in California.

*****

As you can see from Sid’s post, I drove for a lot of today, so I after those random thoughts above, I couldn’t write down anything else, what with me needing to focus on the road and all.

The rest of my day was spent singing along with the Dixie Chicks—loudly—because the Dixie Chicks are the perfect soundtrack for west Texas. Sid probably disagrees with me because on about Dixie Chicks song #28, he put on his own headphones.

Here

2009-02-22T23:01:00.003-05:00

So evidently some people have complained that I haven't been a very active poster so far (you know who you are). Honestly, I'm not sure what you feel I'll be able to add to the conversation, but hey, the people have spoken so here I am.

Not sure what I can say here that won't be said elsewhere or else...whom? But all the same, we traveled from San Antonio to Las Cruces today which we'll just round up to 600 miles. All-in-all an uneventful day of driving. Kamiah was kind enough to take over driving for the majority of the trip so I was able to catch up on some reading.

Hmmm, getting kind of tired at this point so I'll keep this short. Perhaps tomorrow will be a little more interesting or maybe I'll recount some tales from earlier into the trip.

Texas...all day

2009-02-22T20:34:00.009-05:00

So we woke up in San Antonio this morning and after a lovely breakfast Jae left for us, we hit the road. For the next 9 hours.

Kamiah drove in Sid's car today, which meant I was on my own in the Civic with Romeo. Here are my impressions of Texas, as shown in a series of photos taken with my cell phone (which irritatingly interrupted my music each time I took a picture). These span about 5 hours.

Kind of the same everywhere isn't it? There were some fun hilly bits though to keep things lively.

Now you may be thinking that I was bored out of my mind but quite the opposite. Turns out driving through Texas was comfortable. Probably because, as you will see (or have already) in Kamiah's post we spent a lot of time in the Southwest US when we were kids. Guess the upshot of that is a higher tolerance for Texas in adulthood. Thanks, Mom and Dad!

Romeo was less entertained by Texas.

In closing, Texas is long and very much the same, but we're in Las Cruces now (my third time in New Mexico in two months!) so at least it's over.

High Five History

2009-02-21T21:51:00.003-05:00

We got to San Antonio today (only 555 miles left to the Texas border!) where we get to have a house instead of staying in a hotel. Thanks, Jae! Jae is our friend Amanda's mom, for the rest of you, and she even made us real food for lunch. Hooray for real food!

We took the afternoon to look around the Alamo and the Riverwalk since neither Kamiah nor Sid has been to San Antonio before (and really, I was only here once). The Alamo was pretty much just as I remember it - probably good for an historical site. We had a rather lively discussion on our way downtown about exactly what the folks at the Alamo were fighting for, displaying an appalling ignorance of Texas history. Don't worry though, after reading the displays we figured it out. It was General Santa Anna, leading the Mexican Army. I'm sure there's more to it than that, but we got the basics.

After that we wandered the Riverwalk and stopped for a drink. Kamiah took that opportunity to read the brochure she picked up from the Alamo (which apparently she'd been carrying up her left sleeve ever since). She tried unsuccessfully to get Sid to high five history, resulting in her giving him "the look":

This is remarkably similar to the look I gave the waiter in New Orleans who told me there was no sweet tea.

In closing, San Antonio is great and now we're enjoying a nice quiet evening before driving a solid 8 hours tomorrow. Texas is so big...

2009-02-21T20:55:00.006-05:00

I have to admit it: I was not excited about Houston. The rest of the stopping points on our trip evoke a little ooh or ahh, but Houston...eh. It made me so non-plussed that I actually said "eh."

So I decided a week or so ago to reframe Houston. Yes, I realized that I needed an attitude adjustment when it came to Houston, and that's when I registered for the 5 mile race.

Maybe a 5 mile race sounds like punishment -- as if I was angry at Houston and in some twist of logic decided to take it out on myself.

But for me, a 5 mile race was a chance to see a different side of Houston...and by that I mean, not the Galleria Mall and not anything directly off I-10.

This morning as I was running -- I did 5 miles in 42:30 -- I found out that Houston has some beautiful parks. Hermann Park, where the race ended, reminds me of Forest Park in St. Louis, and you know, oddly enough, downtown Houston reminds me of downtown Kansas City.

It seems my mind wants to connect Texas with Missouri.

As I was running, I said "Hi!" to pretty much every police officer I passed. And they closed off a lot of streets for this race, so there were a lot of officers on the route.

Every one of the officers responded to my very chirpy, very bright "Hi!" with a "Good mornin'." Some even added "miss."

I felt very much like I was in the South then, what with their drawl of "Good mornin'" that sounded more like "Guh mawnin'."

It also made me want to burst into "Good Morning" from Singin' in the Rain, but I refrained. Showtunes have their place -- actually in my world, they have many places -- but seeing as my life isn't actually a muscial, I should probably avoid singing showtunes at non-sequitur moments, such as while running in Houston.

Instead, I listened to This American Life.

I know Oesa already showed you pictures of me running / me looking skeptically at a beer (and that's how I always look at it, regardless of whether I've just run a race), but here's one more picture of me looking race-y (and yes, I know what I just said).

Stretching after the race, which translates to trying to look cool, hold my water bottle, and not fall over. Actually, the more I look at this picture, the more weirded out I get by my leg.

Racing in Houston

2009-02-21T10:43:00.005-05:00

No, not my car. Kamiah ran a 5-mi race this morning in downtown Houston, because, really, how often will she have the chance to run a 5-mi race while driving across the country? I'll let her tell you about the race, but here are things from our point of view.

Here's Kamiah running near mile 1 of the race. She's the one in grey shirt and pink shorts waving at us:

Here's Kamiah with her after-race beer:

And here I am enjoying Kamiah's after-race beer with Romeo, who got a race bandanna:

In closing, a good race for everyone.

Texas is Big

2009-02-20T21:57:00.004-05:00

So we left New Orleans this morning after a lovely morning walk with Romeo to Cafe du Monde where we, yes, got coffee and food. We did get to have breakfast next to the Mississippi this morning, though, which made Kamiah and me feel a bit at home.

We stopped at a plantation on our way out of Louisiana, where Kamiah pretended to be a Southern belle and Sid and I filled in for some missing statues. We had to fork over $10 a piece to walk through their gardens - you'd think they could at least put all the statues in. At least we didn't do the tour. Kamiah wanted to see the house, but the folks wanted $20 each for a 45 minute tour and Kamiah and I realized that 1) we don't care for guided tours, and 2) we'd get bored not too long in and forget it all anyhow.

After that, it was straight on till Houston. At this point in the day, I learned something important: Texas is big. I began typing at the border (mostly because I was typing up that bit about New Orleans, so the computer was already on). Here's how it went:

1545 We just passed into Texas and Kamiah saw a sign that said 857 miles to El Paso. Really? 857?! That’s not even sporting. Texas starts somewhere around mile marker eight hundred seventy something. I wasn’t looking. 857 miles…

1616 Mile marker 842. Only have to make it to Exit 770A (Houston) tonight. Not at all looking forward to the remaining 800-odd miles.

1621 Mile 838. Have passed an alligator farm! I thought those belonged in Florida… Considering alerting Florida authorities.

1624 Kamiah and I notice what we think is a bike path next to I-10. Discuss the relative merits of the path and whether we would use it. She thinks perhaps in the winter, like now, when it’s cool. I think not in Texas, not along the interstate at any rate. It does look like a nice path though. Kamiah says it looks hot. She’s right actually, there’s no shade and it looks to be asphalt.

1626 Mile 831. See sign for “Beach” at Exit 829. Kamiah is excited.

1627 Mile 830. Realize I have turned blog into twitter. Stopping now.

We did eventually make it to Houston, but not till almost 1800. Romeo was...anxious to be out of the car.

In closing, Texas is big. And boring. But it does look nicer than Louisiana, which we all three decided was the ugliest place ever.

19 Feb 09 - We Live Through New Orleans

2009-02-20T21:23:00.009-05:00

I'm not the only one! Kamiah had (or will have when she finishes it) a post describing our similar love of food, and along those similarity and food-related lines, let me relay to you this story: We went to the Waffle House for breakfast in Crestview because Kamiah doesn’t have one at home and we love breakfast a lot. Unfortunately, in her rush to get into the Waffle House she pushed frantically on a door clearly labeled “Pull”. Here is a picture of her re-enacting the moment. Enjoy.

Also, here's one of her enjoying her pile of food. Really, who wouldn't be excited to get to this?

New Orleans was great. We were in the St. James Hotel, located on Magazine St. only a couple blocks from both Canal and Bourbon Streets. Nice and close to the French Quarter, but with space available and less chance of a stabbing! St. James Hotel was very nice. Nice enough that we all thought we shouldn’t have been able to afford it. The room was $90 for the night, with two double beds, hard wood floors, doors opening onto a courtyard (for Romeo’s convenience), and a truly lovely – and rather large – bathroom. With marble-type floors. We spent a great deal of time talking about why exactly we could afford such a place, like maybe the shower would be terrible, or the service bad, or everything not work (and it turns out the internet didn’t, but that was all) but really everything was spot on! We settled on perhaps someone had been murdered there and we just didn’t know. Even if we had known, I suspect we’d not have cared.

We spent a few hours exploring, and eating our way through, the French Quarter. We got po’ boy sandwiches, hushpuppies, pralines, and stopped at Café du Monde for café au lait and beignets. Let me take a moment to apologize to Amanda because aside from describing what we ate, there’s not much else I can do. Here are some pictures of our foodening:

We hung out a bit at the hotel waiting for the parades to start. Yes, that’s right – New Orleans organized several parades to welcome me to town. I thought it was nice of them. This additional stay in the hotel gave us more time to realize there really was nothing wrong with the place and for Kamiah to teach Romeo to jump from one bed to the other – a distance of about four feet. I suspect it’s only a matter of time before he tries and fails and slams his little face into the opposite bed. I can hear you laughing, Chris! Knock it off!

The parade “started” at 5:45pm but when we went out at 7:00pm it hadn’t gotten anywhere near us (odd, since it had to go right past). We waited till after 8:00pm to see anything but it was worth it. We’d have gotten more beads then except for the group of drunken middle-aged folks next to us, one of whom managed to spill beer on me in his excitement to get some beads. Also, I’m pretty sure they were all about 7 ft tall. Much longer reach than us three shorties. It’s ok though, because after we got some dinner the parade had made it’s way down to the street in front of our hotel with many fewer people and we got enough shiny beads to trade for a small island given there’s still someone out there willing to trade an island for some beads. I don’t like our chances.

Sid spent the rest of the evening judging us for getting beads (guess it implies we lack morals or virtue or something), but he got some too. Unfortunately, he wouldn't stand still long enough to let us take his picture. Sneaky.

Poor Romeo...

In closing, New Orleans was great and we like food. Also, Sid should stop judging Kamiah and me.

19 Feb 09 - New States!

2009-02-20T21:16:00.004-05:00

Since there was no internet last night, I amused myself by typing up stuff to post tonight when I actually got internet again. And here we go...

On our way to New Orleans, we passed through Alabama, Mississippi, and then into Louisiana. I think, and my parents can correct me if I’m wrong, that Mississippi and Louisiana were the last two states of the 48 contiguous United Stated I hadn’t been too. Yay! Here are the compulsory state sign photos. The dog is clearly having a blast.

New Orleans!

2009-02-19T18:59:00.000-05:00

We made it to NO today in early afternoon and spent the last several hours being tourists. We accumulated several posts worth of photos and stories but unfortunately the hotel doesn't have internet so it'll have to wait till tomorrow. I'm typing this on my blackberry - I finally truly appreciate this thing!

In closing, check back tomorrow. And the food here rocks!

End communication.

Please deep fat fry all my food. Thank you.

2009-02-19T08:45:00.011-05:00

My sister and I look nothing alike, as evidenced by this picture. I take after the Walkers, and she must've gotten all the Callahan genes.

We are, however, alike in this way: We like our food, and we like it deep fat fried.

The picture above also proves this.

As Oesa mentioned, we went out to eat with her friends on Wednesday night. There's a Cracker Barrel right next to the Jameson Inn here in Crestview, FL -- actually, the Jameson Inn is on Cracker Barrel Drive, a great name for a street, if you ask me.

So Cracker Barrel was the obvious restaurant choice, but then oh, what to get for dinner?!?!

For me, there is no "obvious" entree choice, and the debate in my head went something like this:

Chicken 'n' dumplins (yes, I punctuate correctly, even in my head)!
No, chicken fried steak! Steak fried in another kind of meat! I don't get how that works, but it tastes so good!
No, better -- chicken fried chicken! Think of the gravy!

Across the table, I'm sure Oesa was having a similiar debate because we both ended up ordering the chicken fried chicken.

When the waitress asked me if I wanted white or brown gravy with the mashed potatoes, I went immediately with the white: that's what our mom always makes. Then I jokingly said, "You know, you can just cover the entire plate in gravy, and I'd be happy."

Ok, it wasn't really a joke, and the waitress took me seriously. Even my corn -- of course that was one of my other sides; I'm from Iowa -- was gravy-ful.

You can now all hate Oesa and me for our blessed metabolism that is allowing us to eat our way across the South.

Even as I left Florida...

2009-02-18T20:22:00.009-05:00

The title is a line from the song my brain was singing to me this morning when I woke up ("Florida" by Modest Mouse). That's not unusual for me - music in my head - I have a pretty much constant soundtrack in there (yes, you all have theme songs) but most of the time the songs seem random. Today was either blinding good luck on my brain's part or it's trying to tell me something. After the drive, I'm inclined to believe the latter since there's another line in the song about drowning in cruise control. Ha, very ha, brain.

Turns out Romeo is a very good car trip dog (or pug, for those who refuse to acknowledge his dog-ness). As soon as he realizes there's no where to go, he goes right to sleep! I'm sure most of you are having a hard time believing that, having met him yourselves, but it's true. Just ask Kamiah (maybe I can get her to make a corroborating post). The only downside to travelling with him is that he needs to stop and go out every once in a while and sometimes we see signs like this one:

Romeo's kind of a wimp and I don't like his chances against poisonous anything.

We arrived in Crestview, FL after a mere 6-ish hours of driving (did you know you pass into the Central time zone while still in Florida? That's ridiculous) where we checked into a hotel with this one piece of artwork in the room:

My hotel is pushy and upbeat. I don't like it.

On the upside, we met Rob and Jen Lamott for dinner since they're down here househunting (successfully, too, so congratulate them!) and it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.

In closing, in the interest of full disclosure, even though everyone I talked to before we left said "drive carefully" I was nearly run off the road twice today by semi-truck drivers on cell phones. I'm trying to be careful, I really am. Sid fared much better.

A Short Midwesterner in Shorts

2009-02-18T08:01:00.002-05:00

I am wearing shorts.

I know that may not seem like an exciting statement -- certainly not something to blog about -- but I am from the north. I am from the land of snowpiles the size of mountains, ice skating, and being able to see your breath from October to April.

So when Oesa told me that it was going to be a high of 77 today, I pulled out my shorts with a flourish. Sid rolled his eyes. He must've forgotten during these years in Florida some of the biggest joys of being a Midwesterner:

getting worked up over the weather
talking about winter with a heavy dose of pride
drawing attention to the first time you get to wear shorts

But let's face it: my body is not "shorts ready." My legs have not seen the sun since September 13.

I mean the kind of sun that can give you a tan. The sun does shine in Illinois during the winter.

Just the other day, I had to wear my sunglasses while driving to work, something that always throws me off because sunglasses should not be worn with stocking caps. But I needed both last Thursday morning, so as I often do in winter, I reminded myself that I am not a fashion model. When it's cold, staying warm trumps looking cool and that's why the parka was invented.

Today, though --today I am wearing shorts, and I think I look cool.

And we're off...

2009-02-17T18:10:00.000-05:00

In a rather inauspicious fashion, too. Sid and I are staying in Orlando tonight so we can get my sister from the airport this evening and as we were driving over on SR528 the strangest thing happened. One of those big digital-ish highway signs that tells you the travel time to the next exit was instead giving out the following:
" SILVER ALERT
SLVR 2005 HONDA CIVIC
FL TAG [I don't remember the number]
CALL FHP *347"

That's my car. Not my tag, of course, but my car. Sid immediately started pointing at me from his car (not too far behind me) and I informed Romeo that we might soon be pulled over for being the wrong car. That would be the second time for that, thank you very much Melbourne Police Department.

We managed to make it to Orlando, however, and are now semi-comfortably at home in the La Quinta next to the airport. Even Romeo is happily sleeping in his pen.

In closing, Paul and Amanda, sorry about leaving Romeo's food dish with you. Or think of it as something to remember us by.

Now to figure out pictures...