Wednesday, May 19

Day 10029: Yo-yo

Apologies again, my friends. It has been a busy weekend. A wedding, a funeral, a birthday party, dragon boat practice, Duckie picnic, trip to Windsor and back, another picnic... there's been enough going on that it's barely the beginning of the week and I already feel totally, utterly exhausted. Wait... I think it's Wednesday... already. Wow, time passes quickly when you're not paying attention.

Let's see... where was I...

Day five of heaven... continued by popular request...:

Day three started off great. Smooth drive to the beach, a nice quiet brunch with reasonably decent food, sweet hand-in-hand walking along the beach kind of thing. Del Mar has the finest sand I've ever seen. It clings to you like a film even though it's completely dry and gets into EVERY little nook and cranny. Del Mar also has these little clam things that you only know are there when you're standing about calf deep in the water. When the tide rushes out, the sand beneath your feet get slurped up along with the water, and you can feel the tiny clams underneath. If you reach down and grab a handful, you can pick up a good twenty of them at once. All in a rainbow of colours. A neverending source of fascination for me seeing as how I'm such a city girl, anything out of the ordinary astounds me. Of course, Triscuit, being farm boy, thinks I'm whacked out of my skull and never stopped laughing at me the whole time. He said that I was torturing the poor little things, but I just wanted to see them up close. Sometimes I think he's sticking around just so he can tease me about one thing or another.

Vegas, to be quite honest, though fun, I could have done without. We arrived early in the evening. Our little procrastination at the beach and the little "incident" at the gas station put us behind schedule. Plans to meet up with the others for dinner were scrapped because they were starved, and well, we weren't in town. So, instead, Triscuit and I walked around the various casinos and malls stopping here and there to watch someone play a few hands, and then moved on to the next. My fault, I felt a need to rush and cover the Strip, since our plans were to leave early the next morning and head back to the beach... so Tricuit's first exposure to Sin City was not the experience he had anticipated.

Don't get me wrong. Vegas, is great, but not on a drive-thru basis. Neither of us felt like gambling. He spent a total of $7 and I spent a token $1 on a slot machine and bummed a dollar off Posie to play "hard eights" at the craps table... and promptly lost. On top of that, tempers had worn a little thin on the drive through the desert (the "incident") and so we definitely were not in a real partying kind of mood.

We met up with the crew after their respective shoes (Posie, LZ flew out that night, JC, and Larry)and walked around for a few more hours first looking for a club or a lounge and then looking for a place to gamble. Lady Luck not being with the gamblers, we moved from Paris to MGM... by the time we made it back the sun would have already risen back home. And to be honest again, I really don't remember much of that night... just remember being extremely exhausted and wanting to sleep more and more with every step we took.

Kisses goodnight, and it was off to our respective sleeping spaces... me fervently hoping that I would not be assaulted by a flailing Posie in the middle of the night...

Day six of heaven... back to the beach:

Early morning start... or reasonably early, considering the late night before. Stopped off at the last casino out of Nevada (Billy Bob's something-or-rather) for a quick bite... bad food for really little money. Corned beef hash - i.e. regurgitated dog food. Why Americans are soooo obsessed with their hash, I will never know. They take two good ingredients (i.e. corned beef, and potatoes...) and make it look and taste like puke. What else could we expect for the low, low price of $ caviar, SVP?

Drive back to SD uneventful. Note to self... never let Triscuit get gas in California again. Inconsistent gas stations with inconsistent requirements (i.e. pay at the pump, pay before you pump, pump and pay...)seemed to be a constant frustration... more like a recurring nightmare. But, the closer we got to San Diego, the happier he got, so all was good in the hood in the end.

Din-din at the Greek place in Seaport Village. Yummy gyros and baklava to die for. Could be that it was my first experience with real baklava, but I swear my tastebuds were in sheer ecstasy. The crispy honey-gooey-ness... oh god, I'm salivating at the thought. Anyone know where I can get some good baklava in TO? Anyone?

Day seven of heaven... happy place:

I have three happy places. Happy place number three is a little slip of rock outcropping at a boat transfer station in Big Chute, Ontario. Happy place number two is St. Malo, France where I watched the most beautiful sunset I have ever experienced (though the La Jolla sunset was a close second, if not for the view, than for the company...). Happy place number one, as it has been for the past seven years or so is the beach at the Hotel Del Coronado. I'm not sure what it is, but the sand at Coronado alway seems to have tiny flecks of gold in it. When you look into the water, it shimmers and glistens as the gold rises and ebbs with the tide.

Picnic lunch on the beach of sloppy barbecue corned beef sandwich with sides of cole slaw (sp?), 'tater salad, and something else I don't remember, but it obviously wasn't that good... one fork only, so we took turns eating and feeding each other. Spent most of the afternoon wading around looking for sand dollars and shells, getting soaked to the crotch (while wearing white capris... bad idea since they were practically transparent until they dried... and of course another source of teasing by Triscuit *blush*) and watching a brave seagull make off with the remainder of our 'tater salad. Oh, and crap on Sista's beach towel... Hiked the ten blocks to the ferry docks and took the ferry back to Seaport Village, making a brief stop at the Navy base in the middle... during the whole time which we were under surveillance by a little tug boat of armed Navy-men who seemed to be watching the girls more than they were watching for spies. Yay Navy... you know your priorities...

Idiot that I am, I decided to forego the romantic dinner cruise of the Hornblower in favour of going back to Coronado to watch the sunset. Of course, being the shopaholics and procrastinators that we are, we spent too much time browsing the Seaport stores and missed the ferry, hence missed watching at sunset at my happy place. No big deal, another day, another time. Leisurely stroll back up the ten blocks to the car, and then to Cafe Mimi's for a take-out hamburger to eat while watching Turner's Classic Movies (damn, I NEED that channel) and packing the bags for the dreaded trip home...

Day eight of heaven... ummm... I mean return to hel...ummm... the dread trip home:

We flew home. End of story. Now I'm home, and wishing I was still on the beach somewhere watching a sunset with the boy. I think I be moving to Cali sometime in future... really...


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