Friday, July 14, 2006
Sedona and Shuddupa
Cathy Dearinger and I cant resist an opportunity for a road trip. This time, her daughter wanted to go visit a friend near Sedona, Arizona, so I went along with Cathy to drop her off.
I had never visited Sedona before and it was beautiful. If you have never had the opportunity to see it firsthand, I suggest you Google some pictures. Its a resort town with awesome red rocks all the way around it, and lots and lots of shops.
The first morning, in the 101 Omelettes restaurant, right after she told the waitress that she would like Omelette number 66, Cathy informed me that she was going to move to Chicago. I felt like one of those chicks whose boyfriend breaks up with her in a public place so she wouldn't make a scene. Before I could react, Frank, Cathy's boyfriend in Chicago, called her on her cel phone.
"I'm in this place with 101 Omelettes."
Pause
"66."
Pause.
"I just told her, I have to go, okay?"
For the next two days, Cathy and I stayed in Sedona and did all of the touristy things; eating, shopping, looking at art, and driving around taking pictures of the scenery. There, that was done, now we had to get back in Cathys car, Cupcake, and keep moving.
Our first destination was the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Floating through the country north of Flagstaff, singing along with America, living the laid-back, care-free, Horse With No Name lifestyle, Cathy was remarking that it was funny that I was singing the low parts and she was singing the high parts, even though my voice is higher than hers, when all of the sudden I felt something large and furry beating against my thighs under my dress.
A large, rabid mouse must have been hiding in the car. Even though I was securely seat-belted in, I managed so fold my legs up underneath my body while letting out my cool-as-ice girly screams. A brown moth, about an inch across, fluttered up from where it lay dazed on the floorboard. I screamed louder.
"A MOTH! A MOTH!"
Cathy swerved around, trying to figure out what was going on, because surely one little moth couldnt cause all that trouble.
The killer moth was eventually sucked out after I opened the window and whimpered for a while. I tried explaining to Cathy that Im not really afraid of a moth, I was just surprised, and it really felt like a mouse or a rat or something was attacking me. She gave me the same sideways, concerned look she gave me when I had sleep deprivation-induced Brawny Man hallucinations as we were driving through Amarillo last year.
The Painted Desert, some of the most amazing landscape Ive ever seen, calmed me down eventually, and I was able to relax again. We pulled over at Little Colorado Gorge, or whatever it was called, so I could hike around and take some pictures, and even bought some handmade jewelry from a Native American beside the road.
I had never seen the Grand Canyon before, and I have to say, it was quite awe inspiring. Its definitely one of those things you have to see for yourself, because there is no picture or video that can prepare you for it.
The South Rim of the Grand Canyon, which is desert, has a 25-mile road that goes along the canyon, so we stopped at each view piont and hiked around and took pictures. In the bathroom, I was rather alarmed to find my panty liner was completely missing. Panty liners are really nice when youre traveling, about halfway through the day you can take it off and throw it away and its like having clean underwear all over again. I searched everywhere and that baby was GONE. When I mentioned this to Dearinger, she suggested that the moth stole it.
After an hour or so of getting in and out of the car and hiking, with nothing to drink and the sun beating down on us, we were dehydrated and exhausted. By time we reached the resorts at the end of the road, we were shaky and weak and desperate to find some food and water. We finally found a parking spot and wandered into the nearest hotel, El Tovar, hoping to find any sort of sustenance available.
We trudged up to the tuxedoed maitre d in the lobby restaurant and with my dry, dusty tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, I was able to rasp out a request for a table. We were informed us that it was 1:57pm, and the restaurant closed at 2, but were let in anyway. We didnt have to die right there on the spot, so that was good.
Alin, our Romanian waiter wearing a saucy little bowtie, brought us little goblets of ice water that we chugged down between the chunks of focaccia bread that we stuffed into our mouths. When I was halfway through my Navajo taco I was able to stop and breath, no longer had to lean on the table to hold me up, and take smaller, slower bites. The family at the next table was relieved when their children quit staring us.
After our dessert, which was garnished with lots of whipped cream, chocolate drizzles, and orchids, Dearinger and I got back on the road. As we were driving North through the Painted Desert, I looked at the map and convinced her that we werent too far from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, and wouldnt it be fun to see both sides in the same day, especially since we got to drive past the Vermillion Cliffs on the way.
Two hundred miles later, we found ourselves driving a small mountain road with beautiful trees and lush green meadows with about a million deer frolicking in the beautiful trees and the lush green meadows and about every five minutes, one or two or three of them would suddenly frolic out in front of the car. Between dodging the deer and my screams of "HURRY! WE HAVE TO GET TO THE GRAND CANYON BEFORE THE SUN GOES DOWN!" Dearinger was a bit of a nervous wreck by the time we reached the lodge. The view blew my mind. I cant describe it, just go see it for yourself.
The lodge at the North Rim has more than 180ยบ view of the Canyon and everyone was sitting out on the balcony enjoying the sunset. When I asked the clerk if there were any rooms available, she told me no, and that the nearest lodge was 18 miles away.
"In which direction?" I asked.
"What?"
"Which way is the other lodge?"
"Um, the only way you can go is the back the way you came, the Canyon is on the other 3 sides."
Oh yeah, I had noticed that.
Now it was dark and Dearinger made me drive. We didnt find anywhere to stay, or eat, and finally had to buy snacks at a gas station. When we came out of the little store, it was pouring rain. I thought driving through a black mountain road with deer darting in and out of the trees was hard before, but the rain, and trying to eat trail mix, made it even more of a chore. Now the deer werent just running in front of me, but some of them were just standing in the middle of the road staring at me. I could see them in the flashes of lightning.
We thought we were going to make it to St. George, Utah, but I stopped in Mt. Carmel Junction instead. The night clerk in the Best Western was, for some reason, standing behind the counter wearing rubber gloves. Through our whole conversation and the checking-in process, he never took them off. I slept with the light on that night.
The next morning, after we ate at the place with the sign advertising Ho-Made pies, we headed through Mt. Zion, where the guy would not let me in with my Grand Canyon receipt. Instead, he allowed me to pay another $25 and get a year pass to all of the National Parks. Guess Ill be going to Yosemite a lot this year.
When we got to St. George, Dearinger and I decided we were tired of our CDs so we stopped at Best Buy before we headed into town to shop. After buying five new CDs and a camera battery, I got back on the freeway and kept driving West. By the time we figured it out, neither one of us wanted to go back. So much for St. George.
The next stop was Vegas. Dearinger and I spent Thanksgiving with my family in Vegas a few years ago and hadnt been back together since. A Jacuzzi room at Caesars Palace and an evening of gambling was just what the doctor ordered.
We had planned to stay another night at Caesars, but I found out that Dearinger had never been to Laughlin. Why spend two nights in the same spot when there was undiscovered country down the road? I convinced her that we should go, so we had only one stop in Vegas before leaving town.
My husband, Steve, is a sound effects and voice guy, and several years ago he did the voice of the Coca Cola Polar Bear in the commercials. You know the, mmmmmm sound after the smiling bear, who is sitting ass-down in snow, has a sip of ice-cold Coke. Thats Steve. Therefore, I frequently feel compelled to buy Steve Coke products. I made Cathy stop at the Coca Cola store on the Strip so I could buy my hubby a little something.
After the Coke store, we strolled through the M&M store so we could buy pink and green M&Ms to match our luggage (my suitcases are fuchsia pink and Dearingers are lime green.) We were standing at the counter paying for the M&Ms, when a guy comes up to me and says, "Thats my bag," and tries to rip my giant red Coca Cola bag out of my hand.
"No its not, its my bag," I said. That should take care of matters right? No.
"Security! Security! This woman stole my bag!" The next thing I know, this man is wrestling me to the ground and trying to take my bag away from me. "I have the receipt! Its right here! Give me my bag!" he's screaming at me.
Im completely freaked out, but relieved to know that Dearinger has my back. Together, we fought off my attacker while he shredded my beautiful red Coke bag to bits. He was screaming for Security. I was screaming for Security. It was like we were two toddlers fighting over a toy at day-care, only he was about three seconds away from having his balls ripped out through his throat.
We finally broke his grip free and he demanded to see my receipt. I took it out of my purse and started to show it to him when I got really angry.
In the middle of thousands of smiling M&M products and the hundreds of families buying cute little presents for their happy little children I screamed, "IF YOURE TOO FUCKING STUPID TO KEEP TRACK OF YOUR OWN BAG, DONT TRY TO TAKE MINE YOU ASSHOLE!"
Just then, the man's wife showed up, and told him that she had their Coke bag. The man and his wife RAN out of the store just as Security showed up. I yelled to him but he kept going. I ran after him but Dearinger caught me and calmed me down.
"Listen, Candie, its not like a moth flew up your skirt. Lets just go, okay?"
The M&M people gave me an M&M bag to replace my shredded Coke bag, and Dearinger led me back to the car after I talked to the security people. I really wanted to hunt this guy down and make him suffer. I hate mean, stupid people. I mean, here we are next door to a giant Coke store, with dozens of people walking around carrying Coke bags, this guy misplaces his own Coke bag so he automatically assumes I have it and he can intimidate me into giving it to him? What other kinds of mean and stupid things does this guy do on a regular basis? But, its not worth ruining our trip, and karma will catch up with him sooner or later. I eat a cookie and a bottle of water and try not to stew.
In Laughlin, we walked into the Flamingo and asked the clerk if they had any vacancies. He stared at us blankly.
"You mean available rooms?"
You would think a hotel clerk would be familiar with the word Vacancy but Im finding its not safe to make assumptions when you travel. I also learned that its hard to get actual sourdough bread when youre away from California.
Laughlin was fun, as we both won back ten times what we invested in our gambling ventures. The next morning, after breakfast in the big boat, and more gambling winnings, we went back to Sedona.
This time, instead of staying at the Matterhorn, which was fairly nice for a motel, we stayed at the White House, which is painted green and purple (not white) and had a cockroach that appeared to be dead but every time I looked at it, it was somewhere else, and the TV didnt work.
After breakfast this morning, we picked up Dearinger's daughter at her friend's house. Her friend, by the way, works at the same resort in Sedona where Dearinger's daughter was conceived 20 years ago. Dont mention this as it grosses her out. I made friends with a nice cat, then we headed home.
We never did find the panty liner.
I had never visited Sedona before and it was beautiful. If you have never had the opportunity to see it firsthand, I suggest you Google some pictures. Its a resort town with awesome red rocks all the way around it, and lots and lots of shops.
The first morning, in the 101 Omelettes restaurant, right after she told the waitress that she would like Omelette number 66, Cathy informed me that she was going to move to Chicago. I felt like one of those chicks whose boyfriend breaks up with her in a public place so she wouldn't make a scene. Before I could react, Frank, Cathy's boyfriend in Chicago, called her on her cel phone.
"I'm in this place with 101 Omelettes."
Pause
"66."
Pause.
"I just told her, I have to go, okay?"
For the next two days, Cathy and I stayed in Sedona and did all of the touristy things; eating, shopping, looking at art, and driving around taking pictures of the scenery. There, that was done, now we had to get back in Cathys car, Cupcake, and keep moving.
Our first destination was the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Floating through the country north of Flagstaff, singing along with America, living the laid-back, care-free, Horse With No Name lifestyle, Cathy was remarking that it was funny that I was singing the low parts and she was singing the high parts, even though my voice is higher than hers, when all of the sudden I felt something large and furry beating against my thighs under my dress.
A large, rabid mouse must have been hiding in the car. Even though I was securely seat-belted in, I managed so fold my legs up underneath my body while letting out my cool-as-ice girly screams. A brown moth, about an inch across, fluttered up from where it lay dazed on the floorboard. I screamed louder.
"A MOTH! A MOTH!"
Cathy swerved around, trying to figure out what was going on, because surely one little moth couldnt cause all that trouble.
The killer moth was eventually sucked out after I opened the window and whimpered for a while. I tried explaining to Cathy that Im not really afraid of a moth, I was just surprised, and it really felt like a mouse or a rat or something was attacking me. She gave me the same sideways, concerned look she gave me when I had sleep deprivation-induced Brawny Man hallucinations as we were driving through Amarillo last year.
The Painted Desert, some of the most amazing landscape Ive ever seen, calmed me down eventually, and I was able to relax again. We pulled over at Little Colorado Gorge, or whatever it was called, so I could hike around and take some pictures, and even bought some handmade jewelry from a Native American beside the road.
I had never seen the Grand Canyon before, and I have to say, it was quite awe inspiring. Its definitely one of those things you have to see for yourself, because there is no picture or video that can prepare you for it.
The South Rim of the Grand Canyon, which is desert, has a 25-mile road that goes along the canyon, so we stopped at each view piont and hiked around and took pictures. In the bathroom, I was rather alarmed to find my panty liner was completely missing. Panty liners are really nice when youre traveling, about halfway through the day you can take it off and throw it away and its like having clean underwear all over again. I searched everywhere and that baby was GONE. When I mentioned this to Dearinger, she suggested that the moth stole it.
After an hour or so of getting in and out of the car and hiking, with nothing to drink and the sun beating down on us, we were dehydrated and exhausted. By time we reached the resorts at the end of the road, we were shaky and weak and desperate to find some food and water. We finally found a parking spot and wandered into the nearest hotel, El Tovar, hoping to find any sort of sustenance available.
We trudged up to the tuxedoed maitre d in the lobby restaurant and with my dry, dusty tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, I was able to rasp out a request for a table. We were informed us that it was 1:57pm, and the restaurant closed at 2, but were let in anyway. We didnt have to die right there on the spot, so that was good.
Alin, our Romanian waiter wearing a saucy little bowtie, brought us little goblets of ice water that we chugged down between the chunks of focaccia bread that we stuffed into our mouths. When I was halfway through my Navajo taco I was able to stop and breath, no longer had to lean on the table to hold me up, and take smaller, slower bites. The family at the next table was relieved when their children quit staring us.
After our dessert, which was garnished with lots of whipped cream, chocolate drizzles, and orchids, Dearinger and I got back on the road. As we were driving North through the Painted Desert, I looked at the map and convinced her that we werent too far from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, and wouldnt it be fun to see both sides in the same day, especially since we got to drive past the Vermillion Cliffs on the way.
Two hundred miles later, we found ourselves driving a small mountain road with beautiful trees and lush green meadows with about a million deer frolicking in the beautiful trees and the lush green meadows and about every five minutes, one or two or three of them would suddenly frolic out in front of the car. Between dodging the deer and my screams of "HURRY! WE HAVE TO GET TO THE GRAND CANYON BEFORE THE SUN GOES DOWN!" Dearinger was a bit of a nervous wreck by the time we reached the lodge. The view blew my mind. I cant describe it, just go see it for yourself.
The lodge at the North Rim has more than 180ยบ view of the Canyon and everyone was sitting out on the balcony enjoying the sunset. When I asked the clerk if there were any rooms available, she told me no, and that the nearest lodge was 18 miles away.
"In which direction?" I asked.
"What?"
"Which way is the other lodge?"
"Um, the only way you can go is the back the way you came, the Canyon is on the other 3 sides."
Oh yeah, I had noticed that.
Now it was dark and Dearinger made me drive. We didnt find anywhere to stay, or eat, and finally had to buy snacks at a gas station. When we came out of the little store, it was pouring rain. I thought driving through a black mountain road with deer darting in and out of the trees was hard before, but the rain, and trying to eat trail mix, made it even more of a chore. Now the deer werent just running in front of me, but some of them were just standing in the middle of the road staring at me. I could see them in the flashes of lightning.
We thought we were going to make it to St. George, Utah, but I stopped in Mt. Carmel Junction instead. The night clerk in the Best Western was, for some reason, standing behind the counter wearing rubber gloves. Through our whole conversation and the checking-in process, he never took them off. I slept with the light on that night.
The next morning, after we ate at the place with the sign advertising Ho-Made pies, we headed through Mt. Zion, where the guy would not let me in with my Grand Canyon receipt. Instead, he allowed me to pay another $25 and get a year pass to all of the National Parks. Guess Ill be going to Yosemite a lot this year.
When we got to St. George, Dearinger and I decided we were tired of our CDs so we stopped at Best Buy before we headed into town to shop. After buying five new CDs and a camera battery, I got back on the freeway and kept driving West. By the time we figured it out, neither one of us wanted to go back. So much for St. George.
The next stop was Vegas. Dearinger and I spent Thanksgiving with my family in Vegas a few years ago and hadnt been back together since. A Jacuzzi room at Caesars Palace and an evening of gambling was just what the doctor ordered.
We had planned to stay another night at Caesars, but I found out that Dearinger had never been to Laughlin. Why spend two nights in the same spot when there was undiscovered country down the road? I convinced her that we should go, so we had only one stop in Vegas before leaving town.
My husband, Steve, is a sound effects and voice guy, and several years ago he did the voice of the Coca Cola Polar Bear in the commercials. You know the, mmmmmm sound after the smiling bear, who is sitting ass-down in snow, has a sip of ice-cold Coke. Thats Steve. Therefore, I frequently feel compelled to buy Steve Coke products. I made Cathy stop at the Coca Cola store on the Strip so I could buy my hubby a little something.
After the Coke store, we strolled through the M&M store so we could buy pink and green M&Ms to match our luggage (my suitcases are fuchsia pink and Dearingers are lime green.) We were standing at the counter paying for the M&Ms, when a guy comes up to me and says, "Thats my bag," and tries to rip my giant red Coca Cola bag out of my hand.
"No its not, its my bag," I said. That should take care of matters right? No.
"Security! Security! This woman stole my bag!" The next thing I know, this man is wrestling me to the ground and trying to take my bag away from me. "I have the receipt! Its right here! Give me my bag!" he's screaming at me.
Im completely freaked out, but relieved to know that Dearinger has my back. Together, we fought off my attacker while he shredded my beautiful red Coke bag to bits. He was screaming for Security. I was screaming for Security. It was like we were two toddlers fighting over a toy at day-care, only he was about three seconds away from having his balls ripped out through his throat.
We finally broke his grip free and he demanded to see my receipt. I took it out of my purse and started to show it to him when I got really angry.
In the middle of thousands of smiling M&M products and the hundreds of families buying cute little presents for their happy little children I screamed, "IF YOURE TOO FUCKING STUPID TO KEEP TRACK OF YOUR OWN BAG, DONT TRY TO TAKE MINE YOU ASSHOLE!"
Just then, the man's wife showed up, and told him that she had their Coke bag. The man and his wife RAN out of the store just as Security showed up. I yelled to him but he kept going. I ran after him but Dearinger caught me and calmed me down.
"Listen, Candie, its not like a moth flew up your skirt. Lets just go, okay?"
The M&M people gave me an M&M bag to replace my shredded Coke bag, and Dearinger led me back to the car after I talked to the security people. I really wanted to hunt this guy down and make him suffer. I hate mean, stupid people. I mean, here we are next door to a giant Coke store, with dozens of people walking around carrying Coke bags, this guy misplaces his own Coke bag so he automatically assumes I have it and he can intimidate me into giving it to him? What other kinds of mean and stupid things does this guy do on a regular basis? But, its not worth ruining our trip, and karma will catch up with him sooner or later. I eat a cookie and a bottle of water and try not to stew.
In Laughlin, we walked into the Flamingo and asked the clerk if they had any vacancies. He stared at us blankly.
"You mean available rooms?"
You would think a hotel clerk would be familiar with the word Vacancy but Im finding its not safe to make assumptions when you travel. I also learned that its hard to get actual sourdough bread when youre away from California.
Laughlin was fun, as we both won back ten times what we invested in our gambling ventures. The next morning, after breakfast in the big boat, and more gambling winnings, we went back to Sedona.
This time, instead of staying at the Matterhorn, which was fairly nice for a motel, we stayed at the White House, which is painted green and purple (not white) and had a cockroach that appeared to be dead but every time I looked at it, it was somewhere else, and the TV didnt work.
After breakfast this morning, we picked up Dearinger's daughter at her friend's house. Her friend, by the way, works at the same resort in Sedona where Dearinger's daughter was conceived 20 years ago. Dont mention this as it grosses her out. I made friends with a nice cat, then we headed home.
We never did find the panty liner.
