The Sixth Wilbury

Monday, June 27, 2005

The weekend in Mexico proved to be a success!! Sun, the beach and Mexican beers... what more could you ask for?? (Maybe a lime or two... but let's not get picky!) We stayed in an absolutely gorgeous "beach house" which wasn't really a beach house at all, but more like the vacation home of my dreams!! Thanks to our personal beach guide, Lyka, we were able to soak up some prime rays along the oh-so-perfectly-warm waters of the Gulf of California. I did get to experience Rocky Point at night, which was full of adventure:
*seventeen year old boys hitting on us
*old men "throwing" chairs at us and then offering shots of who-knows-what
*listening to old women talk about the many uses of lip gloss in "los banos"
*meeting Manny (supposidly...) of "Manny's"
*hearing that the effects of mexican alcohol on a driver are less severe than the effects of american alcohol, apparently.
Luckily no one gave us a hard time for being touristy americans, however.
BUT, if anyone would have tried to mess with us I simply would have shouted out my battlecry and surely that would have scared them off:
Lo! Who is that, skulking on the tarmac! It is Miss Parker, hands clutching a piece of chainlink fence! She howls ominously:

"I'm going to bruise you like it's my job, and sever every head in sight!!!"
(-:

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Another Days Thoughts

I know that there are certain people who will be very proud of me for this: I saw a spider in the shower the other morning and didn't freak out!! Nope, not one bit. I just filled up a cup with water and "swooshed" it down the drain. Problem solved! I honestly don't think it registered as to what I was doing, but when it was done, I was very proud of myself (-:

Concerning my last post: did I mention that I had a stalker in the 7th grade named James? Well I did. If he is the target of the "I <3 James" artwork, then I must say I'm very happy for him. (and as far as I'm concerned, she can have him!) And just as I was driving around that oh-so-sharp corner thinking this thought, the white suburban infront of me so graciously turned on its right blinker-- (which was good for me because I was wondering if they were going to go... left? straight?)

...and still I'm wondering if it is possible for a person to fall asleep and enter their REM cycle in 30 minutes or less...?
{-:

Monday, June 20, 2005

I [heart] JAMES

(I'm considering this post to be my act of community service, just so you know!)

Driving to my house, the road curves ever so sharply and there are various signs indicating that a RIGHT TURN would be a wise move. On the big arrown ------> someone has recently spray painted:
I <3 JAMES (you get it)

Wow. Talk about a love momento. But I can only wonder how James feels. Is this the first time his lover has professsed her feelings? Does James usually drive down this road and make this ever so sharp right turn? Does he see it every day? Is he distracted by it? Does he think about her everytime he drives by? Is he one of those drivers that puts his right blinker on around this corner, even though there is no other way to go? Was it a joke and James thinks it's for real? Will he be emotionally scarred for life? Or maybe they are together, and it's not some evil teen plot. Will they be together forever? Because if they should happen to break up, and especially if SHE breaks it off, she will definitely have to go back and do some self-editing. Oh, gosh. The perils that come with proclaiming your love to someone. Who knew there was so much involved?? Well James, if you're reading this, I hope it all works out for you. I have no spray paint, but I do have toilet paper and shaving cream. Much can be done to show your feelings towards someone with these items, as well. Although it may not be as permanent as the spray paint, it has it's advantages...!

(-:

Friday, June 17, 2005

This Desert Life

I am having a difficult time acclimating to the desert after my trip to California. So far (I've been home for 6 days now...) I have managed to burn the bottoms of my feet, from walking outside in my bare feet, AND get a heat rash on my neck! It itches, itches, itches!!! )-: (yes, feel sorry for me!) Other than that, it seems that life is returning to normal...

EXCEPT for the fact that the ex has started to call me for advice on life. That got me thinking: what would my name be if I was a groupie??? Obviously we have the BTG, and our newest addition, the TLT. Now I am hoping that if people were going to have an acronym (is that the right word?) for me, that they would be clever about it. One of those that at first you have no idea what the letters stand for but when the meaning comes out, "BAM!" it makes sense and the thought of "duh! why didn't I think of that?!" is going through my head. I'm also pretty sure that I would laugh at any nick name I might acquire, or at least give an: "A for Effort, Cliff!!" (anyone remember that one?)

Other than my highspeed chase down the 60 last night, yes, life is returning to normal!
(-:

Monday, June 13, 2005

Makin' Friends Along the Way

Who knew that there were so many fabulous people in California? Well to add to the list of friends that Honey Asilomar and I made along the way, I'd like to introduce you to Mick, the Mechanic.

Because I tend to procrastinate and put off dealing with things until it becomes totally and completely necessary for me to do so, Mick was brought into our lives. As I was frantically calling auto shops the day before we are to make the treck back to Arizona I came upon an import car shop dealing specifically with cars from Europe. Lucky day... I drive a VW Jetta!! Even though I didn't have "the code" and was going completely off of information given to me by my mechanic in AZ, Mick came to the rescue. "Bring her in tomorrow at 9:30 in the morning," he suggests in a british accent, "and I'll have the part ordered and here from San Francisco. I'll pop it in and you can be on your way!" This was after we discovered that two of his friends were heading to Lake Havasu this weekend.

When we arrived in Salinas, Honey and I were shocked to find yet another cultural experience. I immediately began to refer to this place as "little Mexico." No offense, it just was. Mick suggested that we walk to the little cafe on the corner and get a "spot of tea," (he didn't really say that, but maybe he should have, being british and all...). As we walk down the street, tailed by three mexican men, we find a small mexican food restaurant that is open for breakfast. We go to the gas station instead. Honey picks up a Mint Frappichino and I grab a grape juice. We head back to the shop. By this time, Mick has pretty much fixed my car, and as an added bonus, fixed my windshield wiper... (it's a long story...!) I pay him $50, which he proceeds to put directly into his wallet, and we are on our way. Thanks Mick... we couldn't have made it without you!
(-:

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Campfires, better than sex

That is the official slogan from the newest roadtrip adventure, according to Sloganizer.net, anyway... (I wish I had gotten around to learning how to put links on my blog!!)

Last night was the roadsisters' first run in with the law. We were sitting on Carmel beach, innocently chatting away (with the now-empty bottle of wine and cups safely hidden!) when two dark and mysterious looking characters start walking down the hill towards us.
"Is someone walking towards us?" I ask, not nearly as worried as I should be for 4 twenty-something girls sitting alone on a beach at 11:30 at night.
"Yeah, there's two of them," someone responds.
As they get closer a peace offering is made: "Carmel P.D." Did I say peace offering...?
"Hi, officer..." I begin to say.
"Good evening girls. Umm, a couple of things this evening..."
"Are campfires not allowed?" I jump in. "Because we really, really looked when we got here and I didn't see a sign or anything at all..."
"Well, let me tell you a couple of the rules... are you from around here?"
"No, Arizona," I say pointing at myself, "South Carolina," I say pointing at my roadsister, Honey.
"Oh. Okay. Well all fires are supposed to be out by 10:30 pm," he explains.
"... oh. Well I guess we kinda missed that one!" I add in. (It's 11:30 pm and I, Flakey, have consumed no less than a half of a bottle of wine.)
"Yeah," he sort of laughs, looking at his watch. "Also, all fires are supposed to be kept south of 10th street. So how long are you going to be here for?"
"Umm, well, we'll go now, I guess...?" I say as I begin to throw sand on the fire. I am being aided by my sister and her friend who are using a newly found pizza pan as a shovel.
"I mean, how long are you in town for?" he asks. Clearly I misunderstood the question.
"Oh. Until Friday. We're leaving on Friday." I clarify.
"Okay. Well, you have a nice night!" he adds as he walks away, also telling us that we were doing a "fine job" of covering the fire with sand.
"Thank you, officer!" we all add as he walks away. I'm pretty sure he did ask us at one point in the coversation if we were over 18. So in turn, 4 college graduates look at him and explain that, "Oh, yeah. We're all done with college, too." Because he was, you know, barely over 19 himself...?

Little did Mr. Carmel P.D. know that he was leaving evidence of stolen goods [the wood] to burn on the beach... sucker...!

Apparently, however, the couple in the Jeep parked next to my car hadn't gotten the memo on the slogan of the evening...

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Squeekity Squeek Squeekum

That is squirrel talk for, "if you don't give me some peanut butter then I will continue to nibble on your toe." Unfortunately for me, I was caught off-guard by the squirrel actually nibbling on my toe that something got lost in the translation. If I would have been completely on my game, I would have said something back in squirrel talk ("Emperor's New Groove," anyone?) but then this other huge squirrel showed up on the scene and I continued to freak out. This was only because I realized that there were only two of us, (Honey Asilomar and myself), and there were now two of them...

In other news, bluegrass at Phil's last night was a hit! (-: (the fresh seafood I ate while watching bluegrass didn't hurt...!) I did, however, notice that they were lacking in the department of a fiddle player...
(-:

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Haight Street

I've decided that I would much rather be a bum here (pronounced HATE) than in just regular downtown San Fransisco. Yeah, the odds of getting money in this part of the city seem much greater, considering that many more of these bums have dogs... sure it's easy to say "no" to a bum. But have you ever tried to say "no" to a bum's dog? They're so cute! Anyway... thanks to my new best friend Noah, I had this realization about Haight Street.

Other realizations that are occuring to me this trip:
*homeless people love tattos
*krispy kreme is better than donut world (no matter what the sign says!)
*793,000+ people live in SF
*the Golden Gate Bridge is not golden
*Robin is not always around to kill a spider when you need him to be )-:
*if you jump up and down in an elevator in SF, it will think you are an earthquake and it will stop
*Kris is really good at reading maps
*left turns are not allowed in SF (apparently it's a law...?!)
*it's perfectly acceptable to make obscene gestures at random people while driving down the freeway
*Crepe stores are not as readily accessable as they should be
*the Noodle House is really far from the hotel

Wow. So far it's been quite the educational experience! Just think, if this is how much I've learned in 4 days, imagine what 10 days'll do to me...
(-:

Friday, June 03, 2005

Flakey Thomas

So far my "last summer of being not a grown-up" is bringing about interesting adventures. So much has happened that I don't know where to start! (Be sure to check KRIS' blog also, as it holds many summer treasures as well) (-:

Seeing an old "camp friend" at the airport in LA was awesome! Don't confuse this with the thought, "LA was awesome!" because it wasn't. I decided that, in most cases, a city will "stop" for the airport and all of it's happenings. This is not the case at LAX. The city and the airport just all kind of happen at the same time and place. This did not make it easy for my navigator (who did a fabulous job!) to navigate us to the correct terminal and parking. But we made it, sort of. And when we were to the place that we thought we were supposed to be, and as we innocently tried to make our way up the escalator, we were approaced by this really offical looking man who asked, "vere you trying to go?" (not a typo- and throw in an accent, while you're at it!) (-: we explained that we were trying to meet our friend and he was actually really helpful in telling us that we were in the wrong terminal. So we made our way over to the right place, met up with Janet and spent an hour and a half eating airport chinese food and talking about the past, present and future. It was awesome! Ahh, the joys of seeing people after a long time (-:

Leaving the airport is a completely different story. Although one would think that "Supleveda" is the only word you would need to know to escape the madness of LAX, that is a common misconception. Next time you're lost in the world of the Los Angeles airport, just give me a call. I've circled it a couple of times now (-: and kind of consider myself an expert at this point...
Of course it was not anything that a few energy drinks and some m&ms couldn't cure (-:

notice my new name, Flakey Thomas...? Yeah. it's my road sister name.
(-: