On the Road Again

I know I have been away for awhile, but work has been really hectic. Fortunately, I have a few hilarious stories to share. Driving in California is significantly different from little ol’ Lubbock, Texas. Everyone knows the driving is far more aggressive and the speed a little faster. When we first moved here, I was so terrified to driving on the freeway that I made Chris do most of the driving. Now, I am a seasoned pro (Chris would probably tell you I am still a terrible driver, but I say the same about him).

The things I notice on my one-hour trek from home to work each day are pretty strange. Needless to say, the entire OC/LA area gives me plenty of fodder. Here are a few things I was actually able to capture on camera. Disclaimer: these were taken either at a stop light or when stuck in traffic, so no worries about safety.

1. Have you ever noticed the people who hold signs at the corner of intersections? Well, I found one on his break doing...well, I'm not quite sure what he was doing, but he kept doing it over and over.



2. I know California has more lax rules regarding prescriptions, but really! I guess "Unethical Drugs" is still available for all you entrepreneurs.



3. This one is just plain disturbing. I don't know quite what it means, but it just seems wrong. Maybe I am a snob and expect that to be standard and not noteworthy. Oh, and one last thing, ew.



4. As a girl from Texas, I can appreciate the fact that people love to put animal prints on all different types of products. For instance, Chris has a little bootie that goes over his bowling shoe to keep him from slipping when walking in non-bowling alley areas. It is a lovely cow print (insert laugh here). But I think this takes it a little to far...


5. As a Twilitard, I had to throw this one in there. It's not quite what I would choose for my customized license plate, but to each their own! My question is why would a fifty plus year old man pick that one?

I need to talk to a man about a fish.

I know I have disappeared for awhile. My sister was in town, so I have been in a hole. So much happened “on the outside” that I had no idea. I didn’t know until noon on Wednesday that President Obama was in Costa Mesa (where Chris and I used to live). It was pretty weird thinking of him hanging out at the Orange County Fairgrounds.

Since I work in Long Beach, I thought it would be cool to take Francesca to the Aquarium of the Pacific. It was neat, but we both thought it was more like a small version of Sea World (San Antonio, not San Diego). There was this crazy water snake, though. If you can’t read what the pic says, it is so poisonous that the Aquarium keeps the antivenom on hand at the closest hospital and only two people have the keys to the exhibit. I really don’t think that is a "fun fact."



Anyone who has spent a little too much time with me knows that I have an irrational fear of sharks. I used to live in an area where the nearest shark-infested body of water was a solid 12 hours away. Now, however, I live a mere 2 ½ miles from one. While I realize it is not shark-infested, someone was killed by a shark last year a few miles away. So I would like to think my fear is now a lot less irrational and more cautious. (Nonetheless, my sister and husband think putting on a wet suit (that makes them resemble a seal) and hanging out in the ocean to surf sounds like a good time. While I disagree, Chris’ “dream” death is to be taken out by a shark. Who am I to get between me and his dream?) At the Aquarium, they had sharks. Even though they were little and had no reason to want to maim me, I was uncomfortable. I preferred the cute little otters that resemble a dog more than a shark.

The Aquarium also had stingrays (with their stinger removed) to pet. I had two occasions in which to pet them, but I just couldn’t do it. There were little kids and soccer moms petting them - there was a child not a day over two running around the little stingray aquarium trying to pet as many as possible. Did it embarrass me enough to do it ? No. Finally, Francesca agreed to take a pic of me pretending to do pet one. Even though my hand didn’t actually get in the water, I jumped when one swam by. It’s official – I admit it – I’m a big baby. I also would like to say Francesca didn’t pet them either. She claims she pet one in high school and is therefore exempt from having to do it again. I think she might have been big baby #2.





Some of the other exhibits were really interesting. The octopus was creepy looking. We couldn’t decide which would be more scary to discover in the wild – the octopus or the crab. For such a yummy meal, the crab is not very pretty.

Love, Dancing, and Tahoe

For the past few months, we have been planning a trip to Lake Tahoe for skiing. All the footwork was done, and we were packed and ready to go. Then we find out there was going to be a massive snowstorm in the Reno area all weekend. No, worries. How bad could it be...right? I have only skiied once. I used to snowboard but had a pretty bad fall that made me give it up. So this was going to be my second skiing experience.

This trip was similar to college trip - 10 person condo with 13 people in it, only two bathrooms, only two bedrooms, beer can pyramids, beerpong, a hot tub, and a ridiculous high guy to girl ratio (which can be gross for the girls). But it all worked out - there was fresh snow, and everyone was ready to enjoy the weekend.

I managed to survive with all my bones intact, but there were times I thought I wouldn't make it. We were at Heavenly, and Chris swore there was this blue trail that was really a green. Naively, I followed him. At first, I thought he was right. There were a lot of flat spots (which were painful for my weak little arms since I had to push myself across flat snow), and we were even able to take a nice picture. So here I am thinking "Wow, I must be better than I thought since this blue is so easy." Then, I turned a corner and saw this super steep hill. There is only one way down the mountain at this point, and this is it. While I could have done the trail walk of shame and walk down to the bottom, I felt I had to at least try it. The little yellow dot on the ground in the picture is me. When we finally made it to the bottom, and I was ready to go.

Since the snowstorm was delayed until Monday, we decided to try this Pints and Paddles event on a riverboat on Lake Tahoe. The idea was pretty neat. The boat took you around the lake. It had a jazz band, free beer, and a Bavarian dinner buffet. It was great.

Lee and Lindsey were engaged on the trip, Kenny and Damon discovered a new bromance - there was so much love in the air. We also were able to catch a strange 80s and 90s cover band at Harrah's Cabo Wabo, and I saw Chris pull out some 80s dance moves that made me cry I was laughing so hard. As a matter of fact, there are several guys that I can blackmail with embarrasing pictures of their dancing...

By Monday, we were all exhausted and ready to go home. Our car (Chris, Damon, John, and myself) was the last one to leave Tahoe. As luck would have it, the snowstorm hit at the same time. In an effort to find the silver lining, I will say these guys can probably put snow chains on with their eyes closed (yes, Chris is "supervising"). Eventually it was so bad that the road signs were barely above the snow (that is a rest stop sign). We did make the 9-hour trip home in 12, but I am just glad we made it. We finally were able to see Tahoe. It was beautiful and made us miss winter.

If you were on the trip, here's a memory for you : "No, it's not funny! Coyotes eat babies!"

Chocolate, Beer, and Pickled Eggs

I love chocolate. As much as I know I am playing into the stereotype, there are few things in life that make me as happy as good chocolate. Now that I am working in Long Beach, I take the scenic route to and from home. Belmont Shore is a cute little area just south of LB that has random events. This past weekend was the Chocolate Festival. The crepe man at Le Creperie made chocolate crepes filled with fresh strawberries and nutella and topped with whipped cream. Amazing! When we stood in line at 3pm (two hours into the festival), he estimated making at least 300 crepes already! By 3:30,those in the line that wrapped around the block were disappointed to discover the crepe guy ran out of crepes. We managed to snag a few despite the insanely long line.

This was one of the first events of Mehgan's bday week, so several of us had quite an adventure in Belmont Shore. This was the first visit at Le Creperie for several of us, and my "Mar" crepe was fantastic and was not overwhelmed by the seafood.

After chasing down the evasive BJ's Pazookie, the guys decided a bar would be more fun than following all the women shopping. While I am a proponent of this way of shopping, having three slighly intoxicated men shout at you from across the street is not what I had in mind.

Once we convinced the guys to stop yelling "Hey, ladies, ladies!", we found ourselves enjoying an overcast afternoon in the bar. Classy, I know. I don't know who suggested it, but someone convinced all of us to try a pickled egg. If you have never had the displeasure of one, be grateful!

I love eggs, even hardboiled ones. But when the egg is almost a solid, is a sick color of yellow, and comes served with mustard, I'm not interested. With some liquid courage, I was convinced to try it. Reaction below.



Chris, who doesn't even like eggs (if you have ever seen the ketchup he smothers the eggs with, you know what I mean), looked a little green. Ashley took it in stride, as did Christa.



The final strange tidbit of the Choco Fest day was the Vespa with a sidecar. Now, this made us all laugh hysterically. This lady had her dog in the sidecar with aviator goggles on. The picture is not the best, but I hope you can enjoy it as much as we did. Oh, and don't worry - she's not about to wreck. She killed the Vespa in the middle of traffic.

Moving Pains

So, no, we have not dropped off the face of the earth. We have been moving. While we loved Costa Mesa, our apartment complex was becoming sketchy. I think the final straw was when our not too sober upstairs neighbor fell asleep with the bathtub running and flooded our extra bedroom and bathroom. So we gave up the “city life” of CM and moved to the very Stepford-like city of Irvine (I swear the children outnumber the adults!). We love our new place, but I have to ask, who in the world makes narrow stairs and doorways that do not fit an average size desk or entertainment center? And aren’t you supposed to accumulate furniture after college? While we acknowledged from the start our computer desk had no hope for reaching the second story, we had high hopes for our standard sized entertainment center. Little did we know…

We hired movers knowing we could not lift that insanely heavy chunk of wood over our heads (which was the only way we figured any human could move the thing). I will give the movers credit – they pushed, they pulled, they angled. But the entertainment center just did not fit and a large corner of it was ripped off. We finally conceded and let the movers put it in the garage. I figured Chris could take it apart and bring it up in two pieces. After a couple of hours trying to putty, glue, and drill it back together, John and Chris decided it wasn’t going to work. We had a moment of silence for the poor thing – it survived two Lubbock moves and the move to Cali. As a gift from Chris’ parents (I hope he has told them about it by now), I felt really bad about having to put it in the dumpster. **sniff, sniff**

The movers made us realize that we need to “downsize” our belongings. We budgeted three hours for the move. When the two movers walked into our two bedroom apartment and said “um, I think we are going to need more people or we will be doing this until dark”, I knew we were in trouble. It took six movers FIVE!!!! hours!!!! In our defense, several years ago we lived in a three bedroom townhome; we are now squeezing into a one bedroom with loft. It’s just not right.

I realized that we were both desperately hanging on to items that are just not necessary in SoCal. We each have at least four heavy coats that we only use when traveling out of state. I have seven scarves. And I really do think a pair of galoshes are inappropriate on the West Coast. I admit I do have a dirty little secret – I own over 100 pairs of shoes (it’s hereditary, blame my mom!). Chris collects khaki pants for some reason, and we have enough towels to cover all of Newport Beach. Needless to say, a few shoes, towels, and coats are on their way to Goodwill.


I would like to add special thanks to the people who made this move possible: Mehgan, thank you for kicking our rears in gear and forcing us to pack (to all those who don’t know, we didn’t start packing until the Tuesday before our Saturday move. Procrastination, schmacrastination). Danielle, thank you for taking our two stuffed-to-the-gills walk-in closets and somehow consolidating them into one small walk-in closet. John, not only do I thank you for helping convince us that going to the bar Friday night was a better idea than packing, but thank you for patiently laughing at Chris’ piecing the entertainment center together. If it wasn’t for the three of you, we would still be in our old place!

Coachella

After much ado, the lineup for Coachella was finally announced. Now before I offend any of you, I provide this disclaimer – I am a child of the late 90s; I do not love 80s music as much as most of you; these are solely the opinions of Jacqueline and not the Cure-loving, 80s obsessed Chris. I cannot be held liable for any anger you experience by reading and disagreeing with my assessment of past and current lineups.

People who do not know what Coachella is: check out the Wikipedia info and know that it’s a massive three-day music festival in the middle the desert, and is intense in musical lineups and the wear and tear it puts on concertgoers.

This year is the year of nostalgia for Coachella. The headliners for the 3-day festival are Paul McCartney, The Killers, and (ta-da!) The Cure. While Chris has been leery of the festival after hearing Chili and Jeremy’s uncomfortable and slightly terrifying stories involving the desert heat, car break-ins, and purse stealing, I am a believer in try anything once. As the child of Beetles-loving parents, I am sure to break their hearts by saying I would forego Day One. Day Two looks really good with The Killers, TV On the Radio, and James Morrison (wedding goers, remember the song Stephanie’s sister sang at our wedding reception? That was one of his songs “Better Man”). We could easily see those people otherwise, so the real reason for going on Day Two would be to see if a) Amy Winehouse shows up and b) what in the world she does if she goes on stage. I could be part of pop culture history! Day Three is cool with The Cure, Lupe Fiasco, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs. While Chris would argue it would be worth is all just to see The Cure, again, I am not completely sold on a three hour trip to the desert for that lineup (oh, and Public Enemy will be there – so old school!).

I think much of my lack of enthusiasm comes from this past year’s heartbreak. We missed 2008 Coachella. I am sticking with my original argument that “there will never be another one as good as this one!” I wanted to go to Day Two to see Cold War Kids, Death Cab for Cutie, Dwight Yoakum (yep, that’s not a mistype), Prince, Flogging Molly, and Café Tacuba. Little did we know 2008 mainstream up and comers MIA and MGMT would be there that night, too. Day One had Jack Johnson, Teagan and Sara (loooove them), Vampire Weekend, The Raconteurs, and Santogold. I would have been so happy going either day- well as happy as a person can be in the desert surrounded by not-so-sober, sweaty people. But we didn’t go because it was “too hot” for Chris, a 25-year desert inhabitant. I got over it (kinda).

Well, fast forward to December 2008. We have planned our holiday vacation home and booked our flights. Then the KROQ Almost Acoustic Christmas lineup is announced. This time I am literally sick to my stomach because our flight comes home at 7pm, and the Day Two Concert starts in the afternoon. The lineup was The Cure (again!), The Killers (again!), Death Cab (again!), Paramore, Franz Ferdinand, Scott Weiland, Snow Patrol, Vampire Weekend, and surprise headliner Kanye West – all of which we would pay to see separately. Chris was dealing with his own inner turmoil since this would be the second time in 2008 he missed The Cure (missed Coachella and in a May concert due to his sister’s wedding). I do feel for him. Robert Smith looks terrible. And I don’t know how old he is, but he doesn’t look so good. We definitely did not regret going home, but I believe there is something evil in this world ensuring I will never see The Killers live.

Anyway, back to Coachella 2009. It is just not as awesome as 2008. There are several bands I would love to go see…in an air-conditioned venue in LA or the OC. I’ll admit my 21-year-old self would be one of the first ones in virtual line to buy a ticket, but my old, cranky 25-year-old self says “Coachella is for the birds!"

Twitard

Several months ago I heard about these young adult books that were really popular. I saw their titles appear on bestsellers lists. Due to my limited interaction with those under the age of 18, I still had no idea what it was all about. When a co-worker of mine began reading them, she was staying up until the wee hours of the morning to finish them. I kept asking "A vampire book for teenagers is what is keeping you up all night?" After seeing friend after friend being picked off by these books, I was intrigued.

Finally someone gave me a copy of the first book and suggested I at least try it. After a week of the book acting as a table decoration, I finally picked it up Sunday at 7pm. I don’t know how it happened or why. All I know is I stayed up until 2 am to finish it. Was it among the great literary classics? No. Did I think it was a little cheesy (okay, a lot cheesy)? Yes. Did I love it anyway? Yes, I did!

What is more shameful of my little secret is how I had accused others of being "twitards." A radio station here coined the term to reference all the Twilight series fanatics. Because the movie had just come out that week, it was almost impossible to get the second book in a bookstore. So, like any computer savvy obsessed fan would do, I found copies of the book on the internet. So this meant I had to read three books on a computer screen. Did it deter me? Nope. Did I finish all four books in four days by staying up late and going home immediately to read? Yes.

Chris has seen me stay up late to finish an occasional book, so he refrained from commenting too much on the first late night reading. However, the fourth day/book was Christmas Day, and he had enough when I asked if I could take the laptop with us in the car on the way to Christmas dinner in Pasadena. He finally drew the line and made me admit out loud that I had a problem – I was a twitard.

He offered to go see the movie with me that next weekend (out of curiousity for a series that had taken his wife over). While the movie was pretty goofy, I was able to convince him to take a crack at reading the first book. He has yet to finish the book and doesn’t think it is all that great.
This brought up some interesting conversation with me and my fellow twitards. Why hadn’t he become obsessive? Was this a female-only affliction? When we discussed why we enjoyed the book (who doesn’t want a superhuman vampire to fall in love and woo you?), we realized something – this was a toned down version of the trashy novels all our moms read! You know which ones I’m talking about – the paperbacks with the hunky man holding a beautiful woman in his arms as the wind blows their hair.

The funny thing is Francesca and I used to tease Mom about those books and those big huge sunglasses she used to wear (which I now own a pair). I guess it is true – we are becoming our mother.

(Chris' comment: Women love this book because it combines the innocent flirting with the bad boy that is trying so hard to be good - and not kill his girlfriend).