Newport Dunes Marina Outdoor Movie - Newport Beach, CA

I’ve really had a brain fart recently finding new things to do. Not to say there aren’t things I’d be willing to do....there are plenty of festivals and fairs still going on; but I figured that would start to get old (plus I don’t want my love of corn dogs to go away). I was still perplexed on finding something when Saturday approached. In my pajamas and with my decaf coffee, I scoured the internet for anything that would be good. I had finally resigned myself to drive 3 hours for a sandwich (which, not to give too much away, will happen at some point) but decided to go get my nails done first (have to look pretty for sandwiches). Kevin, not wanting to drive 3 hours for a sandwich (yet!), offered to look for some ideas while I was gone.

By the time I got back Kevin (who rocks) and found a great idea that was a cheap, and even better still, it was practically in our own back yard. We decided we were going to go to the Newport Dunes Marina. They show outdoor movies on the beach every weekend.

Kevin’s idea was a great idea, but it was also an “on the\in the” activity, which really is the best kind. In Milwaukee during the summer months, they have Drunks in the Park Jazz in the Park every Thursday night in downtown’s Cathedral Square. I’m not a big fan of jazz, but being in the park is awesome, and I always have a good time. Most activities are best when they are “on the\in the”. Like having dinner on the lake, or watching fireworks on the roof, or checkers in the tree house. I suppose some “on the\in the” things wouldn’t be so great, like taking a crap in the jail, but most things are so I’m going to go for it.

The movie didn’t start until dusk, so Kevin and I went searching for a place that served dinner before 5. HA HA HA! Apparently there is no such thing as dinner before 5PM on a Saturday in Southern California. We ended up getting appetizers in the bar at Habana, and then got dinner to go at Memphis once they opened. I’m really only telling you this so I can post the pictures of Habana and Memphis at Kevin’s request. Here they are:

Memphis

Habana

We managed to get to the marina a good hour before the movie started. It was only $10 to get in (for parking) and a short walk to the other side of the lagoon to get to the movie area. There weren’t that many people there when we first arrived so we managed to get pretty good seats up front. We were a bit confused on what they were going to show the movie on so we were absolutely amazed when they started ‘blowing up the screen’.






I guess now is a good as time as any to tell you that they showed ‘the Goonies’. I actually saw ‘the Goonies’ in the theaters when I was eleven - two days in a row to be exact (hey! I was eleven!) - not to mention countless times on TV since then. Kevin, however, had never seen it before and I could tell by the look on his face that he was pretty skeptical of this Spielberg masterpiece. But he ended up really liking it. I kept on looking over to be sure.



Seeing a movie on the beach was really great. There really is nothing like watching a movie with your feet in the sand, cool breeze and the smell of a campfire near by, eating a semi-warm hamburger from a to-go box, drinking wine out of plastic party cups, sometimes getting distracted by the huge yellow moon over the water, and watching someone who has never seen ‘the Goonies’ really enjoy it.I definitely want to do this again.



Kevin will want me to mention that there was a wedding reception going on the other side of the lagoon. The little kids had glowing light-sabers which with the darkness were really visible from far away. They also had karaoke going on and two, probably already smashed, wedding guests doing the worst bubble-gum metal song ever. Two guys, back to back, screaming\singing “AAAAAAAAA! (inaudible lyrics here)”. They literally had a crowd of non-guests peering through the fence to take a look at the humor. At the end of the song, one of the guys brought the microphone back to the DJ and said matter-of-factly, “Now THAT’S how it’s done.”

***************************

Almost completely forgot! Remember last time when I said that the bartender at Skosh Mohahan's had to dress in full makeup because he lost a bet with one of the waitresses (Broncos vs. Raiders!). Here's the evidence that he actually went through with it:

Watching Gigli so you don't have to. *HOME ENTRY*

Seriously, the sacrifices I make for you all sometimes. OK, this is probably the only sacrifice I’ve made, but man, you people owe me. Or maybe just Bethhead owes me as she is the one who suggested (as a new thing to do) “Rent some really bad movies you haven't seen yet.” So I did.



I gave the selection of a ‘really bad movie’ some serious thought. I even polled a few people at work. I obviously knew horror movies would be out because that’s just too damn easy, the same goes for westerns and musicals. If I had run into Jill earlier in the week, I might have changed my mind and went for her suggestion of ‘Ishtar’. I wish I ran into Jill earlier because if I had, I would have seen a really bad movie with Dustin Hoffman running around in the desert rather than the debacle of J-Lo and Affleck doing…well, I STILL have no idea what they were doing, in ‘Gigli’.

We all know ‘Gigli’ was a bad movie. You didn’t even have to see ‘Gigli’ to know it was bad. I decided to watch it to see just HOW bad it was. I wasn’t disappointed.


Funny, that's the exact look I had when watching this movie.

I started watching the movie at about 4:30 on a workday afternoon. I had my bottle of wine (which, consequentially, was also horrible, so it fit the mood) and the remote. The only thing I knew about ‘Gigli’ prior to watching the movie was that J-Lo played a lesbian who was won over straight by the charms of Mr. Affleck. God, just that premise is horrible. What studio exec let this one pass under the radar?

Anyhow, the opening shot is of Affleck, a.k.a. Larry Gigli, threatening a small little man for the money that’s owed his boss by throwing said little man in a laundry machine. It’s actually a decent first shot which makes me think that this movie doesn’t seem so bad so far. I also note that Affleck is putting on a bad Brooklyn accent and the small little man also has one - which can only mean that we’re in New York.


First scene, not so bad. What the hell happened?

But we’re not in New York. We’re in L.A. But this doesn’t stop every. single. one. of. the. characters. from speaking in a New York accent. What is this suppose to be? A New York mob in L.A.? Too much pasta from the Old Spaghetti Factory on Sunset? Fine. For the sake of giving this movie a chance, I’ll let it slide.

Oh, and we learn right away ‘Gigli’ is pronounced like ‘Really’ but with a ‘G’. Now you know.

So the plot, what little there is of it, goes like this: Affleck keeps screwing up but he’s giving a last chance by his boss by kidnapping an autistic boy who happens to be the brother of a guy who his boss is trying to extort. (deep breath) J-Lo is also hired on to keep an eye on Affleck and the autistic boy. J-Lo is gay. Affleck is a macho asshole. J-Lo and Affleck hate each other at first, grow affections for each other later (and for autistic boy), then run away somewhere after they completely botch the job that they’re suppose to do. Or something.



I’d really like to give this movie some credit but I can’t. The accents are horrible. The whole idea that a full out lesbian (not ‘I’m going to experiment in college lesbian’) would just drop the whole thing and say “you’re such a macho asshole, you must be the one guy I’d really enjoy…THAT way.” Even the autistic boy keeps getting less autistic as the movie goes on. I truly thought that they might have a plot twist and say he was actually a normal kid trying to pull one over on Affleck or something. But you know what really Really REALLY ticked me off about this movie? It was the guest appearances of Christopher Walken and Al Pacino. They had the best performances of the entire movie but it made me mad that they were there because once their scenes were over, I was back to watching crap.


"See? I'm reading. I must be a lesbian. But just until you macho Italian me over."

It took me over two hours to watch this movie. I kept pausing it to take cigarette breaks, or to refill my wine, or just for a fucking break of awfulness (i.e. all the rolling of my eyes started giving me a headache).


Biggest tool in the shed.

I watched ‘Gigli’ so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.

An excuse and some brunch

Oh HELLO! Yes, you are still out there I see. Diligently checking in to see what my creative juices (a term I’ve always found a bit gross) have come up with next! “Has she wrestled with a gator this week? Or has she built a tunnel to China? Brunch on a boat perhaps?” you may wonder to yourselves. Alas, no. The creative juices (ew!) have dried up a bit in the last month and I find myself struggling to find something new to do (and have it interesting enough to tell you about it). Last weekend, for example, Kevin and I went to Skosh Monahan’s to watch football. We stayed longer than we planned as we were having a jolly ole-fashioned good time talking with people at the bar and pleased as pickles that the owner has to dress in full makeup two weeks from now from losing a football bet to one of the waitresses. Does this whole entry make? No, unfortunately not.

Desperate, I’ve dug into my reserve. That is to say, I’m going to do a non-winning suggestion from last spring’s New This Weekend contest. You should have a new *real* entry shortly.

In the interim, I’d like to thank all the Eastern European readers for checking my blog and my attempt at borovnica out. Michael from Glory of Carniola linked me last Friday. Man, is he a popular guy! I don’t think I could have had any more hits unless I started using porn words in my entries. I’ve also learned a lot about making my own liquor and the proper (and informal) way to say underpants in Slovenian and Croatian (seriously, check out the comments for that one). My granny is going to be so proud!

Speaking of being linked and searched on, by far I get the most ‘not from people I know’ hits from people searching for the words of the Shamu song at Sea World, where to go golfing in Costa Mesa, and where to find Sunday Brunch in Newport Beach. People love their Sunday Brunch. And for the people who love their Sunday brunch, here is a quick list of places I’ve been around here so you’re not so disappointed that you just click and leave.

Sunday Brunch in Newport Beach:

• The Village Inn, Balboa Island
  
  -Pros: $10 average price on breakfast
  $3.00 all you can drink champagne
  Rarely crowded, even at peak times (11AM - 2PM)
  Fairly decent service
  The restaurant claps when a new champagne bottle is opened
  Quick ferry ride to the peninsula to play pool if you’re still standing after all that booze
  -Cons: The food is crap
  No place to park unless you bike
  
  
• Woody’s Wharf, Newport Peninsula
  
  -Pros:Food is excellent (free muffins!)
  Free champagne
  Great view
  Friendly (already) drunk people at 11 AM
  $3.00 valet parking
  -Cons:Always crowded
  Service can be a bit (ok, WAY bit) slow at times
  Food is pricey, around $15-20
  Friendly (already) drunk people at 11 AM
  
  
• Punjab, Fountain Valley
  
  -Pros:$11 for Sunday brunch buffet
  Free champagne
  Rarely busy
  Food is really good (if you like Indian food)
  Self-service
  Always a place to park
  -Cons:Fountain Valley
  
  
• Omelet Parlor, Costa Mesa
  
  -Pros:Food is good and cheap ($6-9)
  Service is great
  Always a place to park
  -Cons:Always busy on Sunday
  Champagne is sold by glass or bottle
  
  
• Cappy’s, Newport Beach
  
  -Pros:Decent food, large portions
  Most items $8-$15
  Parking usually isn’t a problem
  Service is great
  -Cons:Usually a wait on Sunday (but typically no more than 15 min)
  Mimosas sold by the glass only (and at $6 a piece too)
  
  
• Hornblower Sunday Brunch Cruise (see entry)
  
• The Alley (see entry)

I’m sure there are plenty of other places; those are just the ones that I’ve been to. I, as you should know by now, am always open to new suggestions. I love me some brunch.

OK kids, I’ll be back soon, I promise.

Hi-Times Chili-Cook-off - Costa Mesa, CA

This is a week late, I know. I’ve been trying to formulate a way to compose this and have it sound exciting. Since the heat this past week has gotten to my brain, I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you the plain facts and hope you don’t fall asleep.

So…

As I’ve mentioned in the last post, Kevin and I live across the street from Orange County’s biggest liquor store, Hi-Times. Since April of this last year, they’ve been advertising the 1^st annual Chili-Cook-off for Charity. The Cook-off wasn’t to be held until August…talk about pre-planning. At first I debated entering myself in the cook-off; I make a decent chili mac that I thought would be worthy (and what a better new this weekend idea!). But as the Cook-off date got closer I got lazier. I didn’t want to make batches upon batches of chili mac. I couldn’t afford to make batches and batches of chili mac. Hell, I didn’t have the pots to make more than 8 servings. And besides, if there was ever an event to attend just for the sake of attending, it has to be one that’s practically in your own back yard.

The Chili-Cook-Off started at 10AM Sunday morning. Kevin and I were still in our pajamas, drinking coffee and reading the Sunday paper when the band started in on Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl”. Did I mention that Hi-Times is right across the street? It was like Rick Springfield and his band were singing in the upstairs bathroom. They were reading off raffle ticket winners around the time I thought maybe I should jump in the shower. I thought Kim P. who won the Jack Daniels Golf bag was going to run through our living room to claim the prize.

A few hours later we were ready to head over. It was $20 to get in, but that included drink tickets (or if you prefer, raffle tickets, they worked for both) and free water, soda, and of course, chili.

I was pretty amazed at the crowd. The Hi-Times parking lot by nature isn’t all that big. They sectioned off half of it for the Cook-off, and there were approximately 40 vendors\chili giver-outers. Most of the chili came from local businesses like the Harp, Pierre Street Annex, Mother’s Market, but there were individuals (like I would have been) that didn’t have flashy signs or trinkets but simply had a camping stove and a bit ole pot of chili. The place was packed. I’m not sure if it was the amount of people exactly or that the parking lot was shoved with so many other things that a small crowd made it looked packed.



They didn’t design the layout very well either, which makes me wonder if they knew that so many people would show up. For example, the sole place where you could buy drinks was in the same place where the bathrooms were, which was the same place where you drop off your raffle tickets, which was also the same place where the band was playing. So you had a line of people waiting for drinks trying to navigate through the people waiting for the bathroom who were trying to navigate around the people who were dancing to the band.

But the chili….the chili was really good. I’ve never been to a chili cook-off of any kind and I was really wondering what differences chili could honestly have. But there were tons of differences. Pasta chili, veggie chili, spicy chili, chili with fancy cheeses, chili with tequila, the list goes on. And overall, I liked all the chili I tasted except for the 100% organic chili from Mothers (it was too…I don’t know…earthy). My favorite chili was the pasta chili from Garduno's Ristorante Italiano. I even voted for it. The chili from Surf Side seemed to be the favorite of everyone else until the chili with the fancy cheeses came out.

Patrick, Michele, Mari and Gunter stopped by soon after we got there. But then they left right away. It was crowded with no place to sit down, and the micro beer they were serving was pretty bad so I understand why. However, Kevin and I didn’t want to miss an opportunity (it was right across the street!) and stayed for quite a few hours using up our friends drink tickets. I’m sorry to say that we did not win anything in the raffle but we had a good time talking with Richard and Squishy and watching people dance to the band. I hope they do this again next year but use the entire parking lot instead of just the half.

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Of course, that was two weekends ago. This past weekend, which was Labor Day weekend, we did do something new (albeit stretching the new thing) but since I was a dolt and forgot my camera, I’m just going to give it a mention instead of an entire entry.

We ended up going to the newly re-opened, under new management, Sam’s Seafood in Sunset Beach. It’s the closest thing I know to a Tiki joint in Orange County. Kevin and I used to go to the old Sam’s a lot. The old Sam’s bartender was Polynesian or Hawaiian and whenever we came in he’d say, “Oh! You want Scorpion, huh? For lovers only!” He would serve the Scorpion (for lovers only) in a gigantic plastic seashell with two huge straws that would poke your eye out if you weren’t careful. I was close to tears when we stopped by last year and saw that they had closed.

I was excited to learn that they were re-opened but a bit disappointed when I got there. It’s definitely under new management. Where the old Sam’s was like Elvis in Blue Hawaii, the new Sam’s is like Matthew Fox (from Lost) having his trendy lunch in Hawaii. It wasn’t the same even though they still had the Scorpion (but with no one to say, “for lovers only!” we didn’t get it). They do have an hour long happy hour on Sunday from 4 - 5PM where you can get half price appetizers (which are around $11 a piece regular price) and a $1 off beer.

Being Slovenian *Home Entry*

I’m an American. And as an American fitting into the stereotype the rest of the world has of me, I’m fat, I’m loud, I’m a bona fide Bush lover*, I’m overly friendly while working in retail, I refuse to speak French, I brag about where I’ve been in the world, I can tell you how much anything I own cost (with pleasure), I drive a SUV, I support the sending in of troops to help out with the ‘situation’, I owe too many credit cards, and when asked, “Where are you from?” and I assume they don’t mean what state in the United of, I will gleefully rattle off the random percentages I hold in my ‘blood line’. I’m an American, and according to the world, this is what I do.

Those who know me will know what above I fit into the stereotype of, but to the rest I will only admit one thing. I DO rattle of percentages of heritages when asked where I’m from…when talking to other Americans who are specifically asking that question. I’m not stupid enough to tell that to people from other countries. When they ask, I tell them, “I’m Canadian and damn proud. Go Canucks!”

Ha.

Anyhow, since this entry is titled ‘Being Slovenian’ you might have guessed that I am (when talking to other Americans that is) part Slovenian. 50% if you must know, from my father’s side, whose parents came to the great US of A when they were kids. (That is obnoxious rattling that off, isn’t it?) There aren’t many Slovenian traditions that were ever practiced in my family except for the frequent jokes substituting ‘Polish’ for ‘Slovenian’. (i.e. How do you stop the Slovenian Army? Turn off the carousel) but I did grow up learning three very important words:

• Dober dan = Good Day
• Hvala lepa = Thank You
• This one is going to be purely phonetic as no online translator knows what the hell I mean. Got-chey = Underpants

Okay, maybe they weren’t that important, but dober dan sounds really cool when you want to insult someone without really insulting someone but seeming like you are.

I recently found a blog from a guy who is from New York but married a girl from Slovenia and moved there. It’s a great blog, and he had an entry all about making borovnica (blueberry schnapps) which you must know made me instantly intrigued. “I can do that!” I said. Unfortunately it’s a time consuming thing to do new this weekend, so in the interim, I also made Koroška Šarkel, a type of sweet bread.

I started on the borovnica first.



Following the instructions on the blog (which, in hindsight, didn’t provide any specifications of time) I started off cleaning the blueberries, soaking them in some water, than layering them in a glass jar with some sugar. I placed the jar out in the sun and 15 minutes later checked on it to see if the sugar had melted.


Please enjoy the hummingbird getting his own sugar in this picture.

It didn’t – at all. I knew I was in for a long wait.

So….I started on the Koroška Šarkel.



The Koroška Šarkel was pretty easy to make. Prepare the yeast, make the dough, add the raisins, roll, and then bake.



As all my kitchen adventures are wont to do, it wasn’t perfect. My dough never really rose all that much. The recipe was in metric and my conversion from grams to teaspoons\cups wasn’t perfect (damn metric system!). Also, I completely forgot to add the butter.



The bread was really heavy, but it was edible. The best was when it was warm from the oven with a bit of butter. We were able to eat it for about 3 days before it turned into solid rock.



Meanwhile, outside….

DAMMIT! Melt already, melt already!


So close....

The blueberry\sugar mix took a full week of 90 degree weather before the sugar was completely dissolved. I finally brought it inside and added the most important ingredient, the slivovitz. I thankfully live right next store to Orange County’s biggest liquor store and they not only had 1 type of slivovitz, they had 20 types of slivovitz. Wanting to be as close to the real thing as possible, I got the Croatian Creation (I swear to God, that is what is on the label) and added it to my blueberry …uh, juice.

I then stuck it in the refrigerator to stew…cook…melt…whatever. I haven’t touched it since then. I’m honestly a little bit afraid.



“Ooooooh Keeeeevin!”

*I can’t tell you how hard that part was to write. I threw up a little bit.

So, how you doing?

Oi. I am SO late with the next entry. I have half of it written out already but have had so many things going on recently that I haven't gotten around to finishing it. So, I think I will just give you a quick update to what the hell I have been doing while I take yet another day (and some) to give you my actual entry. It will, of course, be immediately followed with another entry, as so you can get your fill.

Most recently what I've been dealing with is a throttle position sensor that went out on my 2004 Nissan Sentra 1.8s (I'm being detailed here so that people who look up throttle position sensors for their shitty 2004 Nissan Sentra 1.8s on the internet will actually find some information, unlike myself). This means that when I step on the gas my car goes, "hmmm, I'm not sure I want to .... GO!" To fix the throttle position sensor, you have to go through the following tedious steps:

1. Talk to your mechanic who tell you he's going to charge you $60 to hook up your car to a diagnostics machine to find out why your Check Engine light is on and your car sometimes won't go.
   
2. Take your car to AARCO who will give you the diagnostics test (which will come up with the bad throttle position sensor error) but will tell you that they won't be able to fix it.
   
3. Take your car to the mechanic who will tell you that he doesn't believe AARCO, but if you really believe that it's right, he'll put on the part for $60.
   
4. Call up Nissan dealership. They will tell you that they have to order the part and you need to come in and pay for it before they'll order it.
   
5. Go to Nissan dealership. They surprisingly have the part. You pay $128 for it and drive away happy.
   
6. Drop off car at mechanic.
   
7. Get call from mechanic who tells you it's the wrong part and it's used. Mechanic will have already called dealership to bitch them out.
   
8. Go to dealership. Same sales guy will say, "Yeah, it's the wrong part" and will order you another one. Part will be delivered in 3 business days.
   
9. 5 days pass, no call from dealership. Go to dealership because they have the part. Pick up part only to realize it's the same stupid fucking part you already have. Sales guy will say, "yeah, but this one is new"
   
10. Insist to talk to Nissan mechanic. Nissan mechanic will look confused, mumble something about a non-existant recall then say "Oh yeah, you have to get the whole thing that part attaches to, not just that one piece"
    
11. Whole Thing part not in stock. Nissan dealership tells you that there are only 3 Whole Thing Parts in the whole USA. Tells you that it will take 5 business days before it's in...and oh, it's $30 more dollars than just the throttle position sensor.
    
12. 3 days later, part is in. Unfortunately you got suckered into working the 8-5 shift at work and won't be able to pick up the part until Saturday.
    
13. DURATION OF STEPS: Look repeatedly online for new. fucking. car.

Actual entry is coming soon, I promise.

Orange County Fair - Costa Mesa, CA

And back to our regular scheduled blog:

Yes, yes, I know. I have officially spent 6 summers here in Southern California (granted, not all consequently) and up until yesterday, I had never been to the Orange County Fair. This is almost absurd to me for the following reasons:

• The Orange County Fair is in Costa Mesa. I have lived in Costa Mesa all 6 summers.
  
• The Fair runs for approximately 4 weeks. 4 weeks is plenty of time to make it to a fair for at least one day.
  
• I love fairs…and festivals…and carnivals. Basically anywhere where they are guaranteed to be selling funnel cakes and corn dogs I will most certainly enjoy.

I have tried unsuccessfully to figure out why it has taken me so long to make it to what is surely one of the bigger fairs I have ever seen. I can’t figure it out. I certainly had enough time. I certainly could afford it. It’s a mystery as Ed would say.

Convincing Kevin to accompany me to the fair was another matter all together. Kevin doesn’t like fairs. He finds them too hot, too crowded, and way too expensive. He has valid points but I tend to think of the good (funnel cakes and corn dogs) outweighing the bad. I buttered him up for weeks with vague notions of maybe, if the weather is nice and we have a little money, to perhaps, if it wasn’t too much hassle, to kind of go to the fair. He always said maybe in the exact same vague manner and as the weeks went on, my time was running out. Finally, on the second to last day of the fair, I put on my best sad puppy eyes and whiney voice and said, “Please can we go to the fair? Pleeeeeease? Pretty pretty pleeeeeeease? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze??”

No, I’m not proud, but I got to go to the fair.

Because the fairgrounds are about 3 miles away from our house, we decided to take our bikes there. We save about $8 in parking fees and the headache of actually finding a spot to park.


Sand sculpture

We walked in and immediately set out to find something to eat. Kevin opted for a pulled pork sandwich and I held out for a falafel sandwich at the Greek place. During the course of the day, we had that and a corn dog (!), a vanilla ice cream cone, and a smorgasbord of fried artichoke hearts, zucchini, and mushrooms (Kevin’s choice). I honestly was amazed at the fried food options there. From a person coming from Wisconsin, that’s saying a lot. They even had fried Snickers bars and fried Coke. Fried Coke? What is that anyhow? My favorite food listed there that I wouldn’t dare eat is the fried Krispy Kreme chicken sandwich. That’s right, a piece of fried chicken in between two Krispy Kreme donuts. I don’t even have anything witty to say about it, I think it speaks for itself.


Fried Veggies

After our first round of food, we went to look at the livestock. We saw the world’s finest collection of odd looking chickens, I pet the bad side of a cow, and I got attacked by a bee when looking at the steers. For Kevin’s sake I will tell you that the bee landed on my shoulder and I freaked out. I started running in circles and screaming, “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!” while Kevin stood there and yelled towards me, “Stay still! I’ll get it, I’ll get it!” But I kept running and freaking out until I finally swatted it away with the only item I had in my hand which was my camera. By then I had more people looking at me than at the steers and Kevin just stood there rolling his eyes. For the rest of the afternoon Kevin mocked me and my fear of bees. While I felt silly, I didn’t feel as silly as this goat:


Overheard: Daddy! That goat doesn't have a head!

Oh, and here’s the one of many odd looking chickens:



And a pig who needs a little TP:



Feeling like I shouldn’t just face one fear in a single day, after the livestock we went on the Sky Tram thing. You know, that little rickety bench seat that takes you from one end of the grounds to the other via the world’s smallest cable 30 feet up in the air. Beth and I used to ride the same thing at Summerfest when we got too tired. With my (now) fear of heights, this ride was torture. I held on for dear life while Kevin did his best to distract me with funny fried food signs. Afterwards I was shaking and had myself three cigarettes and the world’s most expensive cup of beer to calm down. Then I had another beer, but in the bigger more expensive size.


Not the Sky Tram thing, but another ride I would not go on.

Later, we headed over to the Midway to play some games. Kevin saw the below guy with a Homer and sparks of jealousy washed over him. While we couldn’t find any game that was giving away Homer, we did find a game that was giving away Bart and sat down to play. It was the perfect game too. You played against other fairgoers and the object was to fill up a beer pitcher with a tap of water that kept moving. After $12 we walked away with Bart.



We were beginning to get low on money, so we spent the next couple of hours walking around, looking at the games and the rides, watching the acrobats, laughing at the kids on the pony rides, and general people watching.



After the sun went down, the fair became unbearably crowded so we decided to head home. I will say that biking was an excellent idea for getting to the fair but later on when we were tired from walking around all day, it was a bit tough. We made it though.



All in all, the fair was awesome. I’d love to go again next year….if I can only convince Kevin. I’ll have to work on him starting in April I think.

Travel Log DAY FOUR

On 06/29/07 I started off on a 4 day holiday up to central\northern California. The following is the travel log from the trip, broken up into four chapters. The regular scheduled blog will be back in a couple weeks.

DAY FOUR

I woke up early on Monday morning. I knew I had a long drive ahead of me though I told myself that I wouldn’t hurry. I fully admit the late night at the hotel bar affected my head. A long shower in the handicap shower stall, a couple of aspirin and two tall glasses of water did nothing to help. I left the hotel at 9 AM and stopped at Jamba Juice for a recoup smoothie.

By 9:30 I was on the 101 on my way home. There are some things I don’t understand in urban planning. OK, there are a lot of things I don’t understand about urban planning, like why have traffic lights that have the green arrow that is green for approximately 1.45 seconds which isn’t even enough time for me to realize that the light has turned green much less step on the gas and make the turn? Why develop a freeway system where three separate highways join into one single 2-lane highway at exactly the same place? Why put up yield signs if no one actually ever yields to stop? Shouldn’t it be, “Oh, Just Go” signs instead? And the point of all this is, why in the hell do they have Hwy 101, which is 3 lanes of traffic on either side, just end after the Golden Gate Bridge and send you directly into downtown? It just…ends. One minute you’re enjoying the view at 70 mph and the 2nd minute you’re at a traffic light (one of many) with a Kinko’s on the corner. After 45 minutes of fighting downtown San Francisco traffic, I had the pleasure of 70 mph glory again.

I called Kevin after the downtown madness. I had one last place I wanted to go on this trip but I couldn’t exactly remember how to get there. When Kevin and I first started dating, when he was still living in WI and I was out here, we drove up to San Francisco for a weekend. Purely by accident, we stumbled upon a place called Casa de Fruta. We were at that shy, giggly stage of dating (well, I was…Kevin was mostly just shy) and Casa de Fruta was this huge Mecca of roadside attraction joy. Something about that place opened us up a bit and got us laughing without nervously wondering if the other person thought us silly or weird. Maybe it was the Casa de Choo-Choo they had on site. Maybe it was the Casa de Wine tasting we had. Whatever it was, it was the start of a great memorable weekend. I felt I had to stop and pay homage.



Casa de Fruta is about 20 minutes east of the 101 on Hwy 152. Because it’s been so dry and the grass so yellow, I barely remembered the landscape from the first time we were there. However, since Case de Fruta is pretty much the only thing out there, it’s extremely hard to miss.


Casa de Choo-Choo!

I first stopped in the Casa de Wine and had a Case de Wine tasting. The tasting is free and you’re allowed to sample two of their wines. They primarily do fruit wines so I tasted the bing cherry and pomegranate and promptly purchases two bottle of the bing cherry for the 2 for 1 special.


Casa de Wine!

I then stopped in their Casa de Fruit Stand\Casa de Grocery\Casa de Souvenir shop and spent more money than I probably should as I was very caught up in the Casa de Moment. I wandered around their Casa de Parking Lot and spent a lot time taking Casa de Pictures. It was Casa de Great.

Casa de Old Truck with Fruit and Jam display!

Casa de We've Been Here For Awhile!

After about an hour, I knew I had to get back on the road. I said good bye to Casa de Fruta and headed back to the 101.

About 5 hours later, I realized that I should have taken Interstate 5 instead of Hwy 101. I had said I wanted to take my time but at that point, I just wanted to get home. Hwy 101 is incredibly boring and Kansas-like from Salinas to San Luis Obispo. I stopped as sparingly as I could. I called up every one of my family members pleading with them to talk me through the flat lands and the distinct smell of pigs and cow manure. By 6 PM I had made it to Santa Barbara, where I stopped at a hotel restaurant for dinner. I was the youngest one there by about 40 to 50 years but it was a nice break from highway lines.

Finally, at 9 PM – 12 hours after I left the dark handicap hotel room in Santa Rosa, I pulled into my driveway. I was tired and I smelled bad but it was comforting to be there as much as it was sad that the trip was over. I went inside and made Kevin admire all the things I bought. As the days went on and I described my trip, the more Kevin was interested in going. I will definitely do this again – with Kevin. Maybe we’ll do different tours at Hearst Castle; maybe we’ll do different wineries, and maybe, just maybe we’ll make it all the way to the Redwoods or maybe even Portland.

Travel Log DAY THREE

On 06/29/07 I started off on a 4 day holiday up to central\northern California. The following is the travel log from the trip, broken up into four chapters. The regular scheduled blog will be back in a couple weeks.

I had a hard time waking up Sunday morning as I happened to be sleeping in the world’s most comfortable bed. Although I was wide awake, I stayed in bed watching a bad movie on HBO and ordering room service. While I normally don’t condone spending $15 on a sub par breakfast, it was heavenly. HBO, fuzzy bathrobe, bacon and eggs, and the world’s most comfortable bed….I truly didn’t want to leave.

I finally tore myself away around 11 AM and headed out to Santa Rosa via Hwy 116 to Hwy 101. Hwy 116 is perfectly hilly and dotted with cows and grape vines. Ever drive in your car, windows down, sunroof open, beautiful landscape out the window, warm breeze blowing in, something jammin’ on your kick ass Nissan Sentra stereo, smoking a cigarette, drinking a venti decaf iced Americano thinking to yourself a camera man in the backseat would be getting some awesome footage of you in that exact moment if only you had a camera man in the backseat? Just me then.



My plan for the day was to check into my hotel room at the Hilton early, then from there go to a few wineries. On the 101, I missed my turn off and had to stop for directions in a small coffee place with a tiki theme called Bad Ass Coffee. I didn’t have their coffee but I will admit they gave bad ass instructions. I was also grateful that I was able to check into my hotel before noon, even though it took me until the next day to figure out that they had given me a handicap room. You would think that the shower with the ramp and stool inside would have tipped me off, but no. As well, I choose to ignore the fact that they might actually have thought me handicapped.

After the luxury of the hotel spa the night before, I was really disappointed in the handicap room I received. It was dark and the sheets were scratchy. I poured over the winery map the front desk gave me and got out of there as soon as possible.

I decided my best bet was to hit the wineries closest to the hotel. While I truly believe that everyone in wine country is driving around drunk, I wasn’t planning on being one of them. If I did drink too much, I wanted to be close enough to take a cab. With that said I started off and managed to get myself lost. I got so lost that at one point I cried to no one in particular, “There are 200 wineries in Sonoma County! There are so many wineries you could spit and hit one! Why can’t I seem to find a single one?” Approximately three minutes later I stumbled upon Ledson Winery and all was good.

I was very impressed with Ledson, if only for the castle like atmosphere. The wine tasting came in three types: the Knights Tasting, the Nobility Tasting and the Royalty Tasting. Knowing it was going to be a long afternoon with lots of reaches for my wallet, I choose the cheap $5 Knights Tasting which included 4 wines. The bartender was very gung-ho about the wines and very interested in signing everyone up for the Ledson Wine Club. He was a nice kid and I had a great conversation with the couple next to me who were in town from Kansas…or Boston…or Florida….somewhere far away anyway. After the Knights Tasting, I realized that knights must drink strong wine and they probably learn to eat before they do.

About a mile down the road from Ledson is the Chateau St. Jean Winery. I was really excited about going to Chateau St. Jean as it was one of the few wineries where I’ve actually had their wine before (via the grocery store). The grounds here are lovely, with lots of places to sit out and have lunch and some wine. I got a bit confused with the sign at the entrance though, and ended up taking their $15 reserve wine tasting, rather than the $5 every day wine tasting. At the tasting, I had a brief conversation with a family from Long Beach. The wife was pregnant and therefore not drinking, but had a very longing look that said she wish she was. The weather was also getting very hot and the tasting room had all but one small fan. Because of this, the red wines weren’t going down very well but the higher alcohol content whites certainly were. I also had to eat or I wouldn’t be driving anywhere anytime soon. I bought a $6 chicken pesto sandwich (which was cold, soggy and awful) and sat out on the lawn.

From there I started driving more towards the hotel rather than away from it. The next place I stopped was horrible and I can’t remember the name nor did I take any pictures. I followed that up with St. Francis Winery which I thought was better than Chateau St. Jean in their wines. I bought two bottles at St. Francis and a bar of olive oil soap. Yeah, olive oil soap. I really wanted to walk around on their grounds for awhile, but it was getting late and I wanted to go to one last winery before I called it a day.

The last place I stopped at was Paradise Ridge which was a mile away from my hotel. This didn’t stop me from getting lost trying to find it. Paradise Ridge was by far my favorite of all the tastings. First of all, it was free. I was the only one there at first, so I got to know my bartender, Muhammad, really well. He had lived in Italy for 6 months and had just gotten back a few weeks ago. I told him how I thought everyone in Sonoma Country drives too slow and he complimented Newport Beach for being so bike friendly. He gave me a 15% discount on the two bottles of wine I bought and he wouldn’t let me tip him. I was leaving just as other people were showing up, which I was glad for. Everyone should go to Paradise Ridge if they’re in Santa Rosa.

Later on after resting awhile in my room, I had some dinner in downtown Santa Rosa at what appears to be one of only three restaurants there. For a college town it was odd to have so few options for eating out. The Mexican place I ate at was good but bland American-style Mexican food with lots of cheese. After dinner I walked around downtown but there wasn’t that much to see. I went back to the hotel but got depressed sitting in the dark handicap hotel room, so went to the hotel bar to read my book. The bar’s patio had big comfy sofas with a fireplace perfect for reading. I ended up getting in a conversation with the bartender, Elizabeth, and her friend, Seth, and stayed there a lot longer than I had anticipated. It was a lot of fun and a great end to the day. When I went to sleep that night, I turned the TV off.

Seth and Elizabeth