So, I have a couple of little updates to the car story. First of all, I forgot to mention the best part, which happened when I first dropped it off and got the rental. I had waited for about 20 minutes while the Enterprise junior manager ran around breathlessly, helping the queue of short-tempered clients waiting for their very own Ford Escorts. When she finally got to me, she filled out the paperwork, looked up at me and flashed a gleaming smile. "Guess what Allyson?" she asked. "We're going to upgrade you to ... " And I swear to god visions of Porsche Boxsters and big green Ford Explorers ran through my head.
"... power steering!!!" she finished, as the confetti dropped from the ceiling. Did you know they even make cars without that anymore?
Part 2 to come later. I'm a bit tired of talking about the car thing.
The four of us went to Truckee last weekend to indulge in a little east coast nostalgia. I refrained from skiing (just one of those things that requires coordination of 2+ body parts) but partook in snowmobiling on Sunday afternoon. The story:
It was fun, and beautiful, don't get me wrong -- but goddamn it was HARD! I know this sounds ridiculous but let me tell you that I hadn't been this sore in years; on Monday I could barely hold my body up. (I also haven't been this out of shape in years. Coincidence?) I chose to ride tandem with Bryan, because a) it was a lot cheaper and b) I envisioned kicking back and enjoying the ride, watching the scenery. BIG. MISTAKE. Apparently no one told me it would be 10x as hard to hold on for dear life as a passenger than it would be to be a driver -- I spent 2 hours desperately clutching Bryan's ski jacket, my helmet smacking his repeatedly as my neck jerked back and forth over the massive bumps in the trail, my ass flying all over the place as I tried to steady myself and prevent getting ejected into thin air. A pretty picture, isn't it? Sort of like riding a horse without a saddle at 50 mph, I imagine. With slippery, moving reins. The straight and flat parts were fabulous, and the scenery to die for... But damn, I was sore. Lesson #1: Always get your own snowmobile. The things you learn in California.
On the good news front, they offered and I accepted a hot pink Barbie helmet.
The rest of the Truckee photos teach us additional lessons in pool playing (don't fear the midget), 70s decor (nothing wrong with a couple of unicorns), and diner etiquette (it's rude to try to impress the most jaded of waitresses).
"... power steering!!!" she finished, as the confetti dropped from the ceiling. Did you know they even make cars without that anymore?
Part 2 to come later. I'm a bit tired of talking about the car thing.
The four of us went to Truckee last weekend to indulge in a little east coast nostalgia. I refrained from skiing (just one of those things that requires coordination of 2+ body parts) but partook in snowmobiling on Sunday afternoon. The story:
It was fun, and beautiful, don't get me wrong -- but goddamn it was HARD! I know this sounds ridiculous but let me tell you that I hadn't been this sore in years; on Monday I could barely hold my body up. (I also haven't been this out of shape in years. Coincidence?) I chose to ride tandem with Bryan, because a) it was a lot cheaper and b) I envisioned kicking back and enjoying the ride, watching the scenery. BIG. MISTAKE. Apparently no one told me it would be 10x as hard to hold on for dear life as a passenger than it would be to be a driver -- I spent 2 hours desperately clutching Bryan's ski jacket, my helmet smacking his repeatedly as my neck jerked back and forth over the massive bumps in the trail, my ass flying all over the place as I tried to steady myself and prevent getting ejected into thin air. A pretty picture, isn't it? Sort of like riding a horse without a saddle at 50 mph, I imagine. With slippery, moving reins. The straight and flat parts were fabulous, and the scenery to die for... But damn, I was sore. Lesson #1: Always get your own snowmobile. The things you learn in California.
On the good news front, they offered and I accepted a hot pink Barbie helmet.
The rest of the Truckee photos teach us additional lessons in pool playing (don't fear the midget), 70s decor (nothing wrong with a couple of unicorns), and diner etiquette (it's rude to try to impress the most jaded of waitresses).
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