An Entire Micro-Economy Based Upon Lunacy

Our first, and last, stop once we left Arizona (home of the greatest Chimichanga in the world) and entered New Mexico was, obviously, Roswell.  I will spare you a long explanation of Roswell, as everyone knows what the stupid hill people made up in 1947.

Before we finally hit the metropolis of Roswell Proper, we drove through a lot of nothing:

Surprising, I know.

*Fun Aside* – I am an enormous fan of Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes.  It is embarrassing.  I still read the comics and have been influenced to an almost unbearable degree by the characters, the art style and, most importantly, the writing/vocabulary.  The books are, simply, perfect.  Because of the influence on my life, whenever I see a bootlegged version of Calvin excreting urine on a Chevy logo, or flipping someone off, I get a twinge of rage. 

Bill Watterson, with the exception of a calendar early in his career, refused to license his characters.  That’s why there are no Hobbes plush stuffed animals or Calvin coffee mugs.  Merits of his refusal aside, when I see the fake stickers or t-shirts or anything else, I feel like I need to defend Bill Watterson and that’s why the anger creeps up.  Now, I don’t get super crazy and yell and scream or whatever, but it does slightly affect me.

I have seen, over the years, hundreds, possibly thousands of Calvin stickers on the rear of cars.  I have never been so moved as when I saw this one, driving in New Mexico:

This sticker is the most appalling of the bunch.  I had never seen anything like it.  If you are unfamiliar with Calvin (Watterson by proxy), then I will only say that Calvin praying to a Christian symbol is, in the religion of C&H, blasphemous.  I wanted to firebomb this Toyota Sequoia with the intention of maiming the sticker buying decision-maker.

Ugh. 

*Fun Aside Over*

See?  Super fun.

When we finally made it into Roswell, New Mexico, we headed straight here (obviously):

If you can’t quite read it, the name of this place is “The International UFO Museum and Research Center”.  Yup.  The last part of the name is not a typo.  They are, apparently, actively researching Unidentified Flying Objects.  For real. 

After all of these years, sixty-three of them, all of the research that they have done (thankfully, using no tax dollars), has netted them a dreary looking warehouse building with, and I am not joking, the adult equivalent of fifteen middle school kids’ science projects.

When you enter, you are met at a grey desk by an elderly man with what appeared to be out of control nose tumors.  He, and his gigantic, bulbous mid-face asked you for five dollars each, then explained how to best enjoy the museum.  Basically, walk around and read a lot.

once we paid, we immediately put our little pins into the map, locating where we were from.  Here’s Amanda putting a pin into terrible, smelly and crappy New Jersey:

Blech.

Once the fun part was over, we started to walk around and read.  A lot.  Science Fair Project 1:

Yup.

Science Fair Project 2:

That’s an actual replica (made of plastic) of a piece of a UFO.  That’s alien writing.  Bet on it.

Science Fair Project 3:

This is the best example of what the museum had to offer.  Basically, you slowly slide left to right reading for tens of minutes on end.  Exciting.

Science Fair Project 4:

This was, by far, my favorite picture.  It’s a grainy picture of an obviously crack potted man trying to explain how, using a hilarious number of colors on his extremely confusing charts, the crash actually happened.  They actually had his real, legitimate, presentation ready white board on display in Science Fair Project 5:

I will just let you peruse that.  Any doubt shadows about aliens?  Decimated.  It’s science, folks.  Eat it.

The dénouement of the museum was a replica of an alien on a gurney:

 

Were I to work on an alien, I would call both a qualified surgeon, complete with gloves and scrubs, and Don Draper.  he probably comes with his own gloves.

In all, Roswell was a bit of a disappointment.  The town was not as ‘alieny’ as I had hoped for, as there were only a few shops dedicated to alien kitsch.   After the experience, we trekked onward to Abilene, Texas for some good, old-fashioned, only game in town Texas high school football:

 

America: From The Future

First things first: Amanda and I were shown on television yesterday and are currently featured on online television today.  It’s very strange, but kind of awesome.  Here’s the link:

Watch Us Here

There are a lot of ads to sit through, so if you don’t want to sit through them, here’s some proof that we were actually featured (thanks Sarah).  We’re right over the gay Asian man in the purple v-neck t-shirt’s right (your left) shoulder:

I wanted to count how many times we appeared, but that would take forever, as we were all over the place.  Or rather, we were in the same place, but featured a lot in the crowd shots.

Back to the retelling of Road Trip experiences:

Once we left San Diego, basically immediately after the Zoo trip (sorry, Jason), we headed across California and into it’s lovely neighbor, Arizona.  We were on a straight course to The Future (initial caps).

Sadly, the future was far away, so we stopped at a crappy hotel and stayed the night.  The Future would have to wait until the next day.  Crap.

After some crappy hotel breakfast we piled back into the car and were back to The Future.  Or whatever.

To paraphrase The Notorious BIG, if you didn’t know before, then I guess I will have to tell you: The Future is in Gila Bend Arizona.  We were pretty excited to see what was in store for us twenty or so years from now, so when we pulled into The Parking Lot Of The Future, we were greeted by this:

That, friends, is The Future.  It is both a motel and a restaurant, run by the Best Western corporation:

The above is what all signs will look like in The Future, get used to them.  We headed into the restaurant expecting some weird décor and lots of stark white and stainless steel.  We were disappointed:

A gift shop in a crappy looking diner.  Really, very disappointing.  If you’re going to bill your restaurant as “Space Age” (rather than “Space Aged”), at least give it a shot.  Instead, these folks just threw in some standard diner booths and beige tile flooring.  What a waste.  Oh, and in case you were wondering…:

…they have terrible, low quality salad bars in The Future.  See?

Terrible.  The dressing was slop for sure.

Hiding our disappointment, we ordered.  I was not optimistic about the quality of the lunch, so I took it easy with a grilled ham and cheese:

It was below good, with orange American cheese and fat filled, processed ham.  Sub-par work Space Age Restaurant.

To redeem ourselves and make it up to our taste buds, we headed down the road a quarter of a mile (any further in any direction and Gila Bend disappears) for some delicious soft serve here:

On this trip, we tried to eat places that we had never been to before.  Dairy Queen fit that description for me (but not Amanda), as I don’t think I have ever been to one before.  Amazing, but probably true.  I had also never had one of these before:

Regular vanilla soft serve I’ve eaten before, but not dipped in chocolate.  It was super great.  1 for 2 Gila Bend.

After that, we headed to Oracle, Arizona for one more attraction from The Future, but not before taking a bunch of pictures of the boring landscape to put together in Photoshop:

These panoramas look like crap because the weather was crap for days and days.  Sigh.

Anyways, back to The Future, again.  We arrived in Oracle to a place that I was actually pretty excited to see: Biosphere 2 (Biosphere 1 is the earth.  How clever):

It’s that big failed experiment building.  Basically, a bunch of nerdy scientists tried to live in that building without any outside contact or supplies.  grow the food, eat the food, harvest the sun, etc.  They didn’t make it very long, but Biosphere 2 is still kicking as serves as an experimental facility.  Most of them have to do with how to deal with lack of water in different climates.

We walked in hoping to get a tour of the place, but sadly, we would have had to wait for a few hours to get said tour.  We decided, instead, to just walk around the buildings (which is encouraged) and take it in.  We were also allowed in the sea climate place, which was pretty dope:

It’s basically a big aquarium with waves and kelp and fish and all that fun sea stuff.  I love huge aquariums, so I was OK with taking a look at it for a few minutes.

The rest of the tour included peeking into the Biosphere 2, walking around where the scientists lived/ate/etc., seeing some exhibits about sediment and conservation and the like, as well as me sneaking into the Biosphere itself to check out the crazy indoor forest:

It was really nice inside of there.  The air was, not surprisingly, super clear and lovely.  I wanted to to keep sneaking around, but I didn’t really want to be thrown out.  Someday we’ll head back there and I will sneak around everywhere, and possibly jump into the fake ocean.  Some day…

One more picture of the crazy looking BioPyramid:

After we had our fill of walking around a big building, we hopped back into the car and drove to Tucson.  For some food from The Past (and some sleep).

El Charro Cafe is the oldest Mexican restaurant in America.  Or at least that what they claim. 

It’s basically some Mexican man’s house.  Or maybe it just used to be.  The dining rooms were double parlor sized and segregated, but filled with old, ugly art, and more importantly, people:

All of the tables were pretty full, and when I see that, I get kind of excited, as full table at a random restaurant in a weird neighborhood in Tucson generally means great food.

First up?  Homemade tortilla chips and two kinds of homemade salsa:

They look pretty standard, but they were excellent.  Still warm from the oven chips, and chunky, perfectly seasoned dips.  A little spicy, but very good.  We plowed through two bowls of these before our main course came out:

Refried beans, seasoned white rice, a salad that was a waste of space, and a super duper extra mega uber delicious deep fried burrito filled with marinated beef; also known as a Carne Colorado Chimichanga.

I had never had a Chimichanga before, nor had I ever eaten Carne Colorado.  I made one of the best decisions of my life.  The beef was tender.  The fried tortilla was crispy and chewy.  The Colorado marinade was spicy and savory.  Even the refried beans and rice were great.  This was, easily, one of the best things I have ever eaten.  Just delicious.

I finished the entire plate and wanted to order a second one.  Sadly, that would have been a waste of money, so I didn’t go for round two.  I am such a sissy.

God that thing was delicious.  I need a deep fryer and a Mexican fellow to run it.

After dinner, we headed back to the hotel and slept.  I probably melted the sheets as well…

The next morning?  Another famous Tucson restaurant.  This time for breakfast.

The name of it was ridiculous…

The look of it was depressing…

The breakfast inside was mediocre at best…

…but nobody goes to Gus Balon’s for any of those things.  They go there for these:

Gigantic, fresh from the oven sweet bread (cinnamon roll).  The rolls come with steak knives, as they are much too big and dense for puny butter knives.

This comes out before your actual meal, so it renders the eater completely incapable of finishing the actual meal.  No matter.  The sweet bread, perfectly baked, expertly seasoned and indulgently iced, was worth the trip.  It was excellent.  And very big, which is always a plus.

After gorging on baked goods and crappy ham steak, we headed out, determined to make it to a large science fair presentation in Alienville, USA:

We made it.  read all about it, next time on, Five Weeks of Hot Dogs…

We Didn’t Go Camping

After our thrilling appearance on The Price Is Right, we packed the car back up and headed south, toward San Diego.  We planned on driving down the coast and stopping at a campground to do some on the beach camping.  Thankfully, the weather was terrible, so we just drove straight to a hotel near the water in San Diego.  This one:

It was a super nice place.  It luckily didn’t cost us a fortune for the room, because it was, and likely still is, a Hyatt.  Hyatt generally are not cheap places to stay, especially the Grand Hyatt brand hotels.  Earlier in the trip, in Winnemucca, Nevada in fact, Amanda’s sister Emily let us know that we can get a family rate at all Hyatts, since she works for one in New Jersey.  This was awesome news and we used the family rate as much as we could during the trip. 

Thanks Emily.

In the parking garage of the hotel, parked near our car, I noticed this:

One of my (many) problems with adult society these days is the selfishness displayed with cars.  People are so encased in their own world, or are so inconsiderate of other people and their cars, it’s like other cars, and those who drive them, don’t exist.  The image above shows, pretty clearly, that the driver of the car above does not care one little bit that they are parked in two distinct parking spaces.  Things like this anger me to no end.

There should be a little paragraph on the back side of your license that explains how to park like a considerate human being.  If you do not follow the rules laid out in the paragraph, and are caught, you should be electrocuted.

We have completely torn up our social contract.  We have let our grandparents and great grandparents down.

Angered, I wrote and left the driver this note under the windshield wiper:

My handwriting is awful, but I hope that they got the message.  Please.  Please.  If you are reading this.  Please.  Do not.  Park.  Like no one else exists.  Jerk.

My problems with the way people act and park aside, since we got in later in the evening, we just went down to the lobby bar for some dinner.  I had, surprise, a hot dog:

This hot dog crushed the hot dog from Pinks in downtown LA.  It was all kobe beef and super delicious.  And very large.

We woke up the next day determined to do something awesome that day.  Our sky diving and camping on the beach plans had been thwarted by the weather, but we decided to check out the San Diego Zoo, rain or no rain (rain).  I asked a buddy of mine, who lived in San Diego for a few months whether we should have gone to Sea World or the Zoo.  His response was emphatically, including an exclamation point, pro-Zoo.

We parked at the Zoo, grabbed our cameras, rain jackets and umbrella, and headed into the park (at forty-something bucks per person).

Overall, the Zoo was pretty awesome.  Animals doing funny things is always awesome.  My favorite?  Possibly the hippos:

They just run around underwater in their own hay filled feces.  And they are humongous.

Sadly, I didn’t take many pictures after about an hour, as this was my view for the remainder of the day:

It’s kind of hard to fumble around with a lens cap and camera buttons while holding an umbrella to shield you and your wife from a downpour.

Here’s a fun note to people who don’t think that humans didn’t evolve from monkeys: You’re idiots.

When we got to the gorilla cage/Plexiglas box, the smallest, youngest gorilla was in a playful mood.  In order to get a rise from the elders in the box, he or she began throwing dirt into their faces and running away.  As time went on, the little one grew more and more brazen, as the rise he or she was looking fro wasn’t coming.  He or she kept throwing dirt in their faces while they looked tired of it all, as it if were a regular occurrence.  Finally, one of the spry elders took of chasing the young one while the young one made crazy noises and ran away. 

This went on for a few minutes: young one throwing dirt, old ones looking bummed out with the routine until finally, the enormous gorilla, obviously the dominant male of the small group of four took off running for the young one.  The young one may have peed his or her pants (fur?) and did his or her best not to be caught.  The huge guy did catch the young one and started to nip behind the young one’s ear until the young one yelped in pain.  This is apparently the gorilla version of punishment.

Things quieted down for a little bit until the youngest one decided, once again, to start throwing dirt on everyone.

How does this relate to creationism?  Well, if that small gorilla wasn’t acting like a toddler in need of constant attention, positive or otherwise, from his or her parents, I don’t know what to tell you.

Next up on our trip?  The desert, eating in the future and BioDome the movie:

Tomorrow

We’ll be on television.  Heads up.

I’ll be back later today with a post about rain and depression or whatever, but a fun reminder can’t hurt.

The Price Is Right.  Nobody wins anything but you can see Amanda and I yelling at people with our glasses on.  It’ll be great.

The City of Angels. And Rain. Part Two.

I hope everyone has watched the video in the previous post.  If you haven’t, please do.  If you have already watched it, please do it again.  Three things:

1. There is a man who kind of dances by in the background.  It’s excellent.

2. Amanda hates birds a lot.  Note the amount of birds in the video.  She really did not enjoy herself.  It was, and remains, just the best.

3. Amanda really doesn’t like that the video is online and everyone gets to watch it.  She should have thought of that before she choked away a 30 pin lead…

Once that dance was finished up and Amanda peeled off her Miley Cyrus (really) brand jeans, we hung out some more with Justin and Sarah, staying out of the constant drizzle.  We watched some bad movies and did some arts and crafts (Amanda did.  You’ll see the results later in this post).

Since we were in Justin and Sarah’s territory or whatever, we decided to go someplace that they recommended for dinner.  It was this place:

They both said that this place had incredible sushi.  I’ve had sushi before, and didn't much care for it, but I figured I could get something else and try the incredible sushi.

We started out with some edamame, which I enjoy (mostly because it has salt on it):

It was standard.

I ordered some seafood udon soup and some shrimp tempura sushi:

The soup smelled like feces.  For real.

I also have no idea what those white, thick condom looking things were.  The shrimp in it, as well as the udon noodles (basically thick wheat noodles) were, despite the scent, delicious.  I avoided the condoms and broth however…

I had a section of the shrimp tempura roll and wasn’t too queasy, so I figured, since Justin was singing its praises, I’d give his, fish filled sushi a try.

Justin had ordered this crazy sushi roll.  It had tuna, salmon and all types of uncooked fish in it, plus, on top of it?  Bright, almost highlighter-orange fish eggs.

I figured, since we were on a road trip and I was up for trying things, that I should give it a go:

Like I said before, I had tried sushi before.  I did not like it at all, but it was a long time ago.  Maybe my tastes had changed and I would actually enjoy it?  Maybe Justin was right?  Maybe the quality of the ingredients makes the difference?  Maybe I was making a huge mistake by shoving an entire mouthful (the roll was huge) of raw fish with a dusting of orange boogers into my face?

I was.

It was foul.  The texture of the caviar on top (gross) mixed with the density of the salmon and tuna (gross) mixed with the temperature of the roll (gross) mixed with my taste buds and brain (grossed out) added up to something that I perceived as gross times four.

Not only did I not like it, but I didn’t want to spit it out at the table, so I was stuck finishing it.  I said before that the size of the roll was just monstrous.  Take a look at the shrimp tempura roll up there (next to the condom soup).  The roll I stuffed in my mouth was two times the size of it.  It took me over a minute to chew it and swallow.  I did not enjoy it for a millisecond. 

To explain further: I sat there chewing on a food item that my mind wanted to be warm (fish and rice), but was actually chilled.  I sat there chewing of a food item with different densities all mushed together.  I sat there chewing on a food item that, literally, had bright orange eggs from a fish spilled on top of it.

In short, I didn’t barf, but I did gag slightly a few times during the process.  It was super extra gross.

Once I finished up that enormous bite and everyone had a good laugh, I patted the sweat from my forehead (seriously) and got back to the business of the food I ordered.  I popped a second portion of the shrimp tempura roll into my mouth and didn’t enjoy it at all.  Once my mind realized that the food was actually cold, rather than warm (again, my brain thinks fish should be warm for the most part), I didn’t enjoy that bite either.  I gave up and stuck to the feces and condoms soup. 

After dinner, we headed back to the apartment in the rain and called it a night.  We had an early morning ahead of us.  Why?

Well.

It’s only the most exciting thing ever.

The best part of our trip.

It was.

It…it was…

The Price Is Right.

Kablam.

What follows is our Monday, trying to get on stage at the best game show ever.

We woke up to my cell phone alarm at 4:25am.  Seriously.

We woke up so early because in order to get a place in line, you have to get there pretty early.  We grabbed our camping chairs and headed to the studio.  We arrived around 4:45, walked a few blocks and sat in line.

Around 6am, some CBS pages (with red jackets, like Kenneth from 30 Rock) made their way out to the line and started handing these things out:

Amanda and I were 30th and 31st in line (the first guy there was in line by 2:30am).  Once we had these, we were told to come back to the studio at 8:15am to get back into a line.

Basically, to get tickets to the show, you get request tickets from the show online or by phone or whatever.  They hand out as many of those online/phone tickets as you want.  They are almost meaningless.  They earn you the right to line up early in the morning and get your hands on the above tickets,

Once you have those pink, numbered tickets, you’re in.  We headed back to the studio at 8:15am and waited around to find out what to do next.  There were a few hundred people milling about, and a bunch of those pages from CBS starting to get things organized.

Once the pages were ready, they started to make announcements over this old school microphone system.  They called out for folks holding pink tickets (us) to start lining up and sitting on these metal, bleacher style benches.  Numbers one through 30 (or in this case, 31) took a seat on the bleachers and waited for further instructions.  A few minutes later, a redcoat came by and handed out some cards to fill out.  We borrowed some pens and got to it.

The first card was basic info: your contestant number, your name, your social security number (for winning stuff).  The second card was a little mini-essay card.  Basically, the card asked for why the holder of the card wanted to be on The Price Is Right.  Are you super fun?  Are you having a birthday or something?  Are you with Make A Wish?  That type of stuff.

Amanda and I filled the cards out (obviously explaining that we had quit our jobs to go on a road trip), handed them over and waited a little longer.

Next up?  The name tag.

Hecks yes.

A fellow came by, you handed him your ID, and he wrote, methodically, your name on a world famous price tag shaped shirt sticker.  It was, and remains (because we obviously still have ours) completely awesome.  I now have a sticker with my name on it from The Price Is Right.  You don’t.  Eat that.

Once we had that, we waited around for a few more hours and minutes and were shuttled onto a separate bench, around the corner.

Oh, by the way, this is done all outside.  It’s basically in a concrete lot right outside of the studio with an awning over it.  I can’t imagine what it is like to sit around for hours in the California heat waiting to go into a TV show.  I would sweat a whole lot.  Luckily, it was miserable outside and thus, not too hot.

Around this corner, we sat for another hour on another metal bleacher waiting for the shows producer to speak with us.  Basically, whether or not you are selected for the show comes down to this meeting.  All of the selections are made based upon this (as well as the crappy photos that were taken minutes before).  No pressure…

The producer finally made his way out to the crowd and we were all told to shut up (this was not hard for me, but very very hard for many people around me, since generally, people are crazy and annoying).  The producer likes quiet, as he has to talk to 300 people in a row.

Ten or twelve people at a time, we were ushered to this little area in front of the producer and his assistant (who was taking copious notes) and stood there.  The producer went down the line, talking to everyone one at a time until the group was finished.  He made lame jokes that everyone laughed at and tried to get a sense of who would go crazy on the show.  He talked to Amanda and I and we told him our little road trip story and he moved on.

Once the interviews were finished up for our group, we were sent over to a third holding area (with metal bleacher style benches, duh) and sat down after going through a metal detector and handing over cameras/cell phones. We sat there, and got to watch some sweet episodes of the show until we were finally allowed to go inside. 

It was awesome.

We all filed into the building and went up a few flights of nondescript stairs.  We went through a curtain and wabam, there it was.  The Price Is Right stage.  Bob Barker Studio.  It was hilarious.  So very tiny.

On television, the camera work and direction of the show makes it look a whole lot bigger than it actually is.  The stage itself is probably thirty feet wide and twenty feet deep.  There are huge doors lining it and on the left side there is a little stage (where the Showcase happens).  Also, above, there are probably two hundred lights pointing at the stage, each about two inches from the next one, all pointed in different directions.

When you arrive, there's some bad disco music playing to keep everyone excited and you’re ushered to your seat.  We were third row.  Bangin’.

The show started and was fairly normal.  You’re told when to go crazy by some interns or something (including one that looks like this weird kid from college) as well as the director. 

The show was both awesome, since we were actually in the crowd and yelling prices at people, and terrible, as, literally, nobody won any games.  Not one person won anything other than their initial bid to get on stage.  Including the showcase.  It was a disaster.  But still super fun for us.  Despite our incredible t-shirts and charm, we were not selected, but we’ll be all over the TV when it airs.  TiVo that essword.

November 10th.  We’ll be in the third row yelling and laughing behind the leftmost (our rightmost) contestant.  We both have glasses.

Oh, and here is my t-shirt:

Master Key is a game on the show.  I am so clever…

Also, I am gay.

Amanda’s shirt was a little more to the point.  It was a white thermal tank top that said “The Price Is Right Makes Me Happy”.  It was awesome.  Sorry I don’t have a picture of it.

Again, November 10th, 2010, Amanda and I will be all over CBS when the show airs.  You’ll get to see me yelling out random number at complete strangers trying to win a car.  You will enjoy it.

After our really crazy and sort of surreal day at TPIR, we headed to a place for lunch.  I have no pictures of it, as no cameras are allowed at the show, so I didn’t have my camera with me, but it’s a place called Pinks.  Here’s the website if you want an idea of what it is.

It’s basically this “world famous” hot dog stand in downtown LA.  It’s only famous because it’s been around so long, not because the hot dogs are good.

I ordered a chili dog and Amanda had a regular hot dog.  Amanda’s regular hot dog was cold, so that wasn’t too great for her.  My hot dog was semi-warm, but the chili on it was awful.  It was basically a beanless meat mash without any sort of flavor or heartiness to it.  Disappointing.

If you’re ever in LA, I would recommend that you don’t bother with Pinks, as it was a really low quality hot dog with sub-good toppings. 

After lunch, we headed back to Justin and Sarah’s, packed up our car and headed out.

All in all, LA was great.  The weather stunk, and the food was average, but we got to hang out with people we like and watch TV.  Oh, and be on TV.  And have Drew Carey tell slightly off color jokes during the breaks in the taping.

Next up?  San Diego.  Where it rained more.  Awesome.

A Show in Echo Park

I left off yesterday with a nice teaser photo of Amanda.  She looked ridiculous.  Today, dear reader of my web log, I have video (kind of crappy video, but it was misty in LA):

The City of Angels. And Rain.

You may notice from now on that the super wide, super nice looking pictures will decrease on this blog.  I did not forget about them, but the weather did not cooperate with us.  The weather, instead, stunk.  We went almost the entire trip up until this point with incredible weather.  It figures that we drive to Southern California, and it rains the whole time.  Yeesh.

After my semi-delicious/semi-disappointing in-car Pinguinos, we drove down to Central California for dinner and sleeping.  We stopped at a random restaurant:

A seafood restaurant less than a mile from the Pacific Ocean?  Can’t miss.

A seafood restaurant less than a mile from the Pacific Ocean, but it’s connected to a Quality Inn?  Miss.

The food stunk.  I won’t even tell you what it was or describe it.  Olive Garden is better.

We drove in the rain and fog for another hour or so and finally arrived at a crappy motel near the next day’s destination.  We slept in it and died a little bit.  Why did we die a little bit?  because it was, most probably, the worst place we will ever sleep.  I could give you plenty of examples of why it was the worst, but I will only offer a visual example.  This is what I noticed on our way out:

Yup.  Definitely.  I have nothing to say.

Moving on.

Back on the road, we stopped for some breakfast before we met up with a few friends for some extreme sporting:

This place was highly rated, so we were pretty excited to eat there, even though it seemed pretty patriotic.  Since we were in California, which, in case you were wondering and/or don’t know anything about states close to Mexico, is full of Mexican people, I got this:

A delicious bean chili omelet.  It smelled incredible.  I was pretty pumped about it when it came, but it ended up being just mediocre.  The chili was a little too smoky for my liking, but it was still good.  Amanda enjoyed, duh, her breakfast and we were back on the road.

To where?

To meet up, as I mentioned earlier, with some friends to do some extreme sporting.  Sky diving in Santa Barbara, California. 

Amanda, and Sarah (one of our friends) were both pretty nervous about the whole thing.  I had done it once before, so I wasn’t too nervous and Justin doesn’t have emotions, so who knows with him…

We arrived, said our hellos (but not goodbyes, those would be said on the plane) and walked in:

Inside, we were informed that the weather stunk.  Duh.  We knew that already.  Apparently, stinky weather leads to no flying.  We were encouraged to sit tight (which should be “tightly”), fill out some forms, watch a crazy video from 1970 something and hopefully we’d get a window to go up.

In this:

That plane sat in the hangar for the entirety of the day.  Justin and Sarah had driven up from LA, which is 3 or so hours away, to watch a video and sit around.  What a bummer.

We left the airport and decided to get some dinner in super rich Santa Barbara.  Since we are not super rich, and Justin won’t give me his tax forms, so I don’t know if he is or not, we settled on a place that wouldn’t cripple us financially:

And I ordered this:

An open faced turkey sandwich covered in gravy with some smashed potatoes and way too much zucchini.  It was pretty good.  The gravy was still hot and the turkey was fresh.

No big deal.

We drove back to Justin and Sarah’s apartment, chatted it up, watched some TV, which is always great, and slept.  Once awake again, we went to a local spot for some breakfast:

The Brite Spot they are talking about?  All of the hipsters.  Jesus.  I can’t get away form those people.  This place was packed with them.  Wall to wall.  Ugh.

I gritted my teeth and ordered the standard Ryan breakfast:

The bacon was super delicious.  The breakfast meats on this trip crushed the breakfast meats in New England.  Nice job everyone else but New England.

After breakfast, we stayed out of the rain for a bit in the apartment, then headed to Echo Park for a performance.  I will reveal the performance in the next post.  You should definitely look forward to it.

Trust me: