Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Hot Dog

On the second night of our journey we decided to camp in Escalante, Utah. I am a big fan of southern Utah but have never been to Escalante before, so we headed up from Mesquite thru Zion...

Thru Bryce Canyon...



And finally to Escalante and our campsite at Calf Creek Canyon...

Where our Prius drove through this...


And we went on a hike where we were supposed to see this...


But instead we saw this...


So instead of seeing this...

We had to do this...

Monday, July 7, 2008

Bingo was his name-o

Ben and I went on a wonderful vacation last week. The next series of posts will be about said vacation. We broke it up in parts driving from LA to Park City with various stops in between.

Our first stop was Mesquite, Nevada... now I don't know how many of y'all have been to this little gem of a gambling town but most people drive right on by or don't make it past Vegas and for those that have been there, let's face, typically don't admit it... but I am not ashamed. We got a room for $40 (that allowed pets) at the Virgin River, that had a swamp cooler in the window, penny slots, a pool, a shooting range and Bingo (of course).

We arrived at about 3:00PM and decided to go right to the pool. I was really in the mood for some poolside cocktails and some mean desert sun but to my chagrin, only got the sun. The only cocktails to be had were the BYO kind, but we still managed to have a really pleasant afternoon, roasting in shade of a tree with the scent of chlorine in the background. It was oddly pleasant, no commerce, no lines, no noise.... just us the sun and a cement puddle... Marlboro Miles can't buy that type of bliss.

We then went into the casino where I decided to put some money down on the Roulette table. I choose our anniversary numbers (6 & 30) and wouldn't ya know it the dam thing landed on 6... shazam! One hundred and seventy five large ones... free of charge, no strings attached... which was then quickly lost at the blackjack table with just enough money left over to play a 7:00PM session of BINGO.

So now to the crux of the story.... BINGO is not an easy game. Before we even attempted to play with the big dogs ( or silver seniors or old people - whatever you want to call them) we had to get a 10 minute tutorial from the cashier. There are a bunch of buy ins and options and different colored cards and sheets and different games for each card. The whole process is exhausting and worthy of some sort of diploma upon completion. At any rate, we choose the card that had 9 games simultaneously, as it looked easy enough. The veteran players where sitting at there regular spots, some had various different daubber in varying shades of purple & pink (we even overheard one lady giving the heritage of here dauber line-up - "yeah I got this one in 67 for Valetines Day in Laughlin and this one here in was from Father's Day in 87 at Harrah's"). Some people adopted the electronic cards... called Travelers, I think they may give these away for free with the purchase of a land yacht, but they were the gamblers version of an animated etch-a-sketch, except easier and smoker friendly.

As we sat down... we had such high hopes, we really thought that this would be a relaxing way to spend an hour or so... but boy were we wrong. Holy Crap! I don't know how these seniors do it. The woman was calling out numbers so fast, we could barely check off one sheet before she was calling out another number. Ben and I were breaking a sweat, running our dobber over the sheets, trying to check our work... we barely had enough time to sip our beer or chat about the funny hairdo's in the room. By round 6 (I think there are 10) Ben looked at me and said... "This is not fun... make her stop". I told him "shhh, what number did she just say, B5?"

In the end, we didn't win anything... but this may have been attributed to human error, as we ended up missing a lot of numbers. However, we did gain a deep appreciation of those senior's ability to find and hunt down numbers and that is one thing that cannot be gambled away.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Happy Dog, Sad Dog

Happy Dog

Sad Dog


Thursday, June 26, 2008

Noguchi - Eat Your Heart Out

Low and behold - the Urquhart's finally have a coffee table, and it's not like every other coffee table... this is a genuine, custom made Noguchi inspired rip-off made by the legendary Tom McPhee (aka my dad). Check it out... amazing!

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Emoticon

One thing I always hated about New York and Brooklyn was that no one smiled at you in passing. I understand that this activity would become completely exhausting when passing by the millions of commuters and daily pedestrians but one place where I never understood it was while running around the park in Prospect Park or Central Park.

Smiling, for me, is the life force of my running habit... it keeps me going and energized to finish, reminds me that we are in this together, brings out some friendly competition and all in all renews my belief that deep down everyone is genuine and decent. As a frequent runner in Prospect Park for 3 years I can tell you there are exactly two people that smile at you in that park, one woman I nicknamed "Smilie" because she was nothing but smiles and another guy called "ball guy" who used to kick two huge rubber balls around the park, like the ones you used to play handball with in elementary school, while saying "go ahead, kick 'em! you can kick my balls!" whilst chuckling and laughing until his heart was content. I was never able to fully deduce if we should have changed his name to "crazy homeless ball guy". Anyways, crazy or not, I loved them. I would come home after a below freezing run and report back to Ben, "Saw Smilie out there today, she is so nice" and "Ball guy was out there laughing away, one of these days I may just kick one of his balls".

Which leads me to my run today in Griffith Park... in which EVERYONE smiled at me, except 2 people. Literally everyone acknowledged my existence, gave me a nod or a brief smile... it was like my running utopia. I have been running out there for a couple of weeks and people have their own friendly styles, one hippie looking guy throws a low peace sign, some of the super fast elite runners do a nod in unison, the other women my age give me a sweet and enduring smile (rather than sizing me up and comparing strides) and some of the older gentleman give me winks and lick there lips (OK, I made that up, even the old guys are sweet).

I had a painful run today as I have been experiencing some rough blisters of late... but i didn't stop, not even once. I was so energized by the spirit out there. I know I sound all preachy and weird, but I live for the kindness of strangers, its just the most humble and honest thing someone can do...

Anyways, after I finished my run, I looked down to stop my watch and some random guy, whose name is Sergio (that's right, I don't have to make up a name for him, we actually exchanged names) said "How'd you do" and I told him my mileage and time and then we just talked about what races we were training for... it was just really genuine. After which he said "I'm Sergio" and I said "I'm Nancy... (OK I didn't... jeez I have a prepencity for cruel humor)". So he gave me a high five and said... "has anyone showed you the runner's high 5?" So what can I say, I am in the club... finally.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Not So Hyper

So this weekend we were driving to the west side... something we do rather sporadically and usually when lost but during this particular jaunt I noticed that Ben was driving really slowly and cautiously. For the most part the west side is safe and no one's gonna lynch you, unless its pride weekend or you have the vanity license plate "SMPLESALE". So I put up with it for like 5 minutes (ok 5 seconds - let's be realistic) and Ben announced that he was "hypermiling". That's right... hypermiling, the smug term for going slow and getting high gas mileage in a Prius, not dissimilar to Mexican cruise control (coasting in neutral on a hill).

So what was the grand total of our snails pace to the west side... 52.4 miles per gallon, that's right 52.4 miles! With current gas prices that's 8.75 cents per mile... at this point, there is probably something remarkable that I could tie this into, perhaps something about the lifting of the ban on off shore drilling or even Obama's Manhattan project on Energy Technology... but instead I will just say, Ben's a geek and our Prius is saving this great country.

Monday, June 2, 2008

Take the 5

So Ben and I learned a couple of things this weekend:

- San Diego is far away and just because family is in town does not mean we should drive down on both Saturday and Sunday
- The San Diego military is always on duty even when the Rock & Roll marathon is finishing on their base
- I need to wear sunscreen at all times and even in places that I cannot reach or see... namely my back.
- the toll road that destroyed Laguna canyon may have been an issue 13 years ago, but boy does it make for a smooth commute to Southern OC and who knew it would pave the way for a Mormon church and a bazillion McMansions
- I still remember where all the 7-11's are located in my home town and I think I may have shoplifted from each one
- Diesel is $5.11 and the Prius got 49 miles per gallon