So while in Monterey, I wanted to see the beach and misguidedly decided to walk down an alley to get to it. At the end was, in fact, the beach, but also an odd assortment of vagrants, one of whom saw Steven’s camera and immediately said, “You want a good picture?” and reached into his pocket.
This could have ended any number of ways, but it turned out to be a lizard.
His name is Clyde!
Then, after a lengthy discussion of Clyde’s eating habits–in which he asked us for “Florida herbage” twice, saying that he could sense we had some by our aura–he introduced us to his friend “Gandalf” who recited some poetry. Then a pimply high schooler arrived with a bottle of prescription drugs and I used the distraction to run back down the alley and not stop until I reached the Tollhouse Cookie Bakery. Steven followed along at a somewhat more sedate pace.
When forced to think about North Dakota (sadly, most people will not do so willingly), they mostly mention how cold it is. Little do they know that summertime threats besides frost bite lurk in the ravines of the badlands. Fiercest and most mysterious of these is the legendary Prairie Shark:
Or possibly some kind of root. Still, SCARY STUFF!
The only defense against the Prairie Shark is to run away quickly. Luckily, that left me energized to deal with our other brushes with death: Read the rest of this entry »
A birthday is a horrible time for a near death experience but, as my mother feared, the day I turned 22 I faced a twofold threat in Seattle–suspiciously close to Canada. The first was the insidious threat of crepe or nutella overdose at lunch:
The Monterey Bay Aquarium is supposed to be pretty baller, as far as aquariums go, although I remained at the same level of impressedness I maintain towards the Tampa Bay aquarium (through Florida solidarity). In only two places do they excel: the sea horse exhibit and the penguins. Sea horses are, naturally, my favorite, being the giraffes of the sea, but the penguins were most impressive because of one’s stolid attempts to escape. Observe:
Luckily he did not succeed, for if he had, I would have undoubtedly faced DEATH once again as the infuriated, adrenaline-fueled penguin attempted to gore what he would see as the nearest of his human captors.
Of the many perils of California, none is more fearsome (to the supposedly highly allergic Patricia) than the house cat. Observe my brush with death at the hands of this cuddly assassin:
Only pretending to be cute to deliver the killing nuzzle, cheeky devil
If not for my premeditated application of copious amounts of Claritin, I could very well be NO MORE. Or at least in sorry shape before facing the next instance of NEAR DEATH: Read the rest of this entry »
Do you know how hard it is to even get a cellphone signal in Montana and Western North Dakota? The only person who complained about my lack of updates was my mother, who I think checks this blog as an assurance that I’m still alive. She urged me when she was finally able to get a call through that my “friends would think something horrible has happened” if I didn’t write soon. Clearly she worries more than all of you. Or has less faith in my instincts of self-preservation. And so, in honor of my mother, I will catalogue the Times I Have Almost Died over the past few blog-less days.
So on Tuesday Steven and I had just pulled into a La Quinta Inn in dreary West Texas when I got a text message from my cousin Michelle informing our family that she was inducing labor the following day and we’d soon have a new cousin. Since this is my Movie Cousin, who lives in LA and who I’d planned on staying with, I found this news somewhat disconcerting. Can you stay with someone who’s just given birth four days ago? Apparently yes!
And, okay, it’s not like Jeremy’s house, in that you aren’t having food pushed on you at every turn or discovering the secrets of Jeremy’s psyche, but there is a lot of sleeping baby holding involved, and that’s never bad:
OMG so tiny!
So I would say to definitely go for it, if you have the opportunity/really nice cousins who don’t mind you eating their food and sleeping on their couch while they’re still sleep deprived.
They also have two fairly large dogs whom Steven spent a fair amount of time wrestling with around the time this picture got taken (otherwise they became preoccupied with licking the baby’s toes). Unfortunately there are no pictures of Steven lying on the ground with two large dogs attempting to lick his face and bite each other at the same time. Rest assured; it really happened.
From the way everyone talks about the Grand Canyon, I was expecting some deeply moving, life-changing experience. Which, of course, is always the first mistake. Instead I could never quite shake the sensation that I was at Disney world. True, there was much less waiting in line and touristy souvenirs to waste money on (at the actual park, anyway; the Denny’s we stopped at for lunch 30 miles away had a gift shop with “Grand Canyon” hats and snow globes). But the hordes of people, the system of shuttles and the countless colorful displays showing different parts of the canyon and cajoling passers to “Choose Your Grand Canyon Experience!” just seemed too commercialized, too fake. The canyon itself is, of course, huge and gorgeous–so big that it’s almost hard to believe it’s not a painted backdrop or a special effect off in the distance, which only added to the sensation of being in some kind of corporate-constructed microcosm. Naturally being surrounded by thousands of people trying to photograph themselves with the canyon at every angle didn’t help. Or the hundreds of people making exactly the same kinds of home videos, just in a variety of different languages: “Look! It’s me at the Grand Canyon!”
In conclusion, the Grand Canyon was probably a great experience once. I think I would have been overwhelmed if I could have seen it alone, so vast and silent. But being surrounded by tourists pretty much dampened any great emotions I may have had. So, not wanting to add to the problem, I took no pictures or documentary videos (sorry for the graphic-less post–clearly this will give Bova further ammunition for her blog war campaign). Instead I walked down and away, as far as time would allow, to sit on a rock on the edge and watch gigantic ravens flying thousands of feet above the ground, but still far below me.
If you’re ever in Albuquerque and can somehow swing it, I suggest you stay at Jeremy’s House. Seriously, it is amazing. 80% solar powered, with beautiful vistas of the city (especially at night), Jeremy’s Mom will even heat up leftovers for you and suggest you take biscotti for the road! I was a little worried when his dad asked “So, how do you know Jeremy?” and I had to reply “I’m… his friend?” while trying to ignore all the times I have made fun of him in Cabinet minutes, called him JerBear, or made small, jabbing remarks about his constant, constant geology field trips to non-geological places like Paris. But then we started talking about Jeremy’s various schemes and we felt right at home.
