Spring break is long over.
I can tell because I'm already thinking thoughts of another vacation escape the likes of summer holidays and a tropical Christmas getaway.
We are now 2/3 of the way through this crazy spring schedule that saw us overlapping three different play rehearsals. Holy Daughter's plays are now over. In her first play this spring, HD enjoyed a small cameo role as one of Geppetto's Puppets - total on-stage time was likely no longer than about 120 seconds.
Her second play entailed a far more daunting rehearsal and performance schedule - she rehearsed a few times a week these past couple of months for her part as the "punchline and punctuation" snail (she got to say period, exclamation point and question mark after all the snails said their one word lines) in a city youth theatre production of Sleeping Beauty. They enjoyed six sell-out performances and when she came home yesterday after the final show, she fell asleep in the recliner and skipped dinner altogether in favour of more rest.
So that's two down but one still to go for Holy Son, who is busy rehearsing in prep for an upcoming Shakespearean play.
This on top of soccer, Brownies, Scouts, Irish dance, ballet and cello lessons. Little wonder my mind is already on summer and next Christmas.
On that note, I'm going to take a little hiatus from blogging for awhile. I have another writing project I'm working on that I want to focus on. But I'm still here behind the scenes. Or here. Or manning the 24/7 phone lines at Mom's Diner & Taxi Service.
4/28/08
4/18/08
Lost and Found
Looking back on my week in Vegas, I now tell people I spent a year there this past week.
Don't get me wrong. It was gigantic fun but it also ranks up there as pretty much the only place on the planet I've travelled to from a destination vacation perspective, where I don't feel a compelling need to want to pack up and move there.
It's changed tenfold since I was last there 15 years ago. The hotels are just enormous. Beyond enormous. I know big hotels or thought I did, having spent a good chunk of my career working for Fairmont Hotels & Resorts, who have a few monster properties like the Banff Springs Hotel to brag about. But these properties make the Springs look like a small boutique inn.
We stayed at The Excalibur in a renovated room, which the kids loved. I think it has something like 4,000 rooms. We lucked out in that we were on a quiet floor and not too close or too far from the elevator. But of course everywhere you go when you stay on the Strip, you have to walk through a smoke-filled casino to get where you're going to. Unless you're going to the casino then you're in luck, (or so one is led to believe).
Even getting to the monorail, which takes you up and down the Strip entails a mile+ walking each way.
But the themed hotels - OMG, they were amazing. New York New York was by far my fave, although the Luxor lobby area was pretty cool, too. We spent time in the Caesar's Palace, Treasure Island, The Venetian, MGM Grand, Harrah's, The Flamingo, The Hilton, The Luxor and the Bellagio. Most are an attraction in and of themselves.
The best part of our week was going to the Grand Canyon. Wow, double wow, triple wow - what a view and we were only at the West Rim of the GC - I can't even imagine what the South Rim must look like. I was a very nervous Nelly on the paths near the cliffs' edges (and that's putting it mildly - my son tells it as, "Mom was like totally freaking out on us!") - I was almost in tears at one point so finally hubby and the kids relented and kept their distance from the edges.
And I changed my mind from a year ago and walked the Skywalk. I was wrong - the view is infinitely better from there. Holy Daughter was so brave, she circled that thing straight down the middle glass part (that feels like you're walking on air) no less that 14 times. She's a daredevil. Some people were shuffling along the side where it appears like there's a proper walkway as opposed to glass, and they were holding onto the rail for dear life.
The Skywalk folks boast that it can support the weight of something like 6 or 7 Boeing 747s, which is what I pointed out to one timid woman. It didn't get her away from the edge but she did begin to walk a bit faster thereafter.
We rented a black Nissan Armada SUV, so we cruised in style and perhaps best of all, we were able to separate the kids with their own back seat bench, which is important when you're taking a road trip with tired children. We barely managed to get them out of the vehicle for our Hoover Dam stop - "awwwhhh, do we have to!?" The security stops and Checkpoint Charlies reminded me of our travels through the nuclear zone areas of Pakistan...which is a sad twist of irony that speaks volumes to the state of this late great nation in this post-terrorist era.
Other highlights of our week included:
I'm already plotting our next canyon trip though - I'm checking into a Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park camping vacation through southern Utah. Can't wait.
Don't get me wrong. It was gigantic fun but it also ranks up there as pretty much the only place on the planet I've travelled to from a destination vacation perspective, where I don't feel a compelling need to want to pack up and move there.
It's changed tenfold since I was last there 15 years ago. The hotels are just enormous. Beyond enormous. I know big hotels or thought I did, having spent a good chunk of my career working for Fairmont Hotels & Resorts, who have a few monster properties like the Banff Springs Hotel to brag about. But these properties make the Springs look like a small boutique inn.
We stayed at The Excalibur in a renovated room, which the kids loved. I think it has something like 4,000 rooms. We lucked out in that we were on a quiet floor and not too close or too far from the elevator. But of course everywhere you go when you stay on the Strip, you have to walk through a smoke-filled casino to get where you're going to. Unless you're going to the casino then you're in luck, (or so one is led to believe).
Even getting to the monorail, which takes you up and down the Strip entails a mile+ walking each way.
But the themed hotels - OMG, they were amazing. New York New York was by far my fave, although the Luxor lobby area was pretty cool, too. We spent time in the Caesar's Palace, Treasure Island, The Venetian, MGM Grand, Harrah's, The Flamingo, The Hilton, The Luxor and the Bellagio. Most are an attraction in and of themselves.
The best part of our week was going to the Grand Canyon. Wow, double wow, triple wow - what a view and we were only at the West Rim of the GC - I can't even imagine what the South Rim must look like. I was a very nervous Nelly on the paths near the cliffs' edges (and that's putting it mildly - my son tells it as, "Mom was like totally freaking out on us!") - I was almost in tears at one point so finally hubby and the kids relented and kept their distance from the edges.
And I changed my mind from a year ago and walked the Skywalk. I was wrong - the view is infinitely better from there. Holy Daughter was so brave, she circled that thing straight down the middle glass part (that feels like you're walking on air) no less that 14 times. She's a daredevil. Some people were shuffling along the side where it appears like there's a proper walkway as opposed to glass, and they were holding onto the rail for dear life.
The Skywalk folks boast that it can support the weight of something like 6 or 7 Boeing 747s, which is what I pointed out to one timid woman. It didn't get her away from the edge but she did begin to walk a bit faster thereafter.
We rented a black Nissan Armada SUV, so we cruised in style and perhaps best of all, we were able to separate the kids with their own back seat bench, which is important when you're taking a road trip with tired children. We barely managed to get them out of the vehicle for our Hoover Dam stop - "awwwhhh, do we have to!?" The security stops and Checkpoint Charlies reminded me of our travels through the nuclear zone areas of Pakistan...which is a sad twist of irony that speaks volumes to the state of this late great nation in this post-terrorist era.
Other highlights of our week included:
- going to Mystere, Cirque de Soleil's amazing show - it was our first Cirque show but definitely not our last
- sneaking our 53-inch tall, 8 year old daughter on the 54-inch tall height restriction, giant roller coaster at New York New York - she slipped her shoes off and stood on the tops of her heel backs so as to look the height but they didn't care anyways. I held onto her leg for dear life and didn't let go the entire ride, whereas she kindly restrained herself (for my benefit, as she recounted to me later) from flailing her arms above her head the entire ride, as she is wont to do on any and all roller coaster rides.
- doing the rides at Circus Circus Adventuredome which is really lame and doesn't even begin to hold a candle to the indoor rides and triple loop roller coaster of Galaxyland at West Edmonton Mall. But it wasn't busy so that was a bonus.
- going on the Star Trek Experience 4D ride and attraction at the Hilton - I'm not a Trekky but it was fun to meet and speak with a Borg and experience these virtual reality trips to outer space.
- walking down the street or through the lobby with a drink in our hand - that was cool. Very liberal liquor laws
- having a late dinner with the kids at Margaritaville - the kids had fun interacting with the dudes on giant stilts and hanging out in a bar with live music at 11pm
- messing with the guys handing out girlie show cards with pictures of naked women on them - these dudes are all over the Strip but aren't allowed to hand cards to men (or women) who are walking with kids. I bet my son $3 bucks that I could play with buddy the card dude's mind. So the kids watched and giggled from afar as I grabbed a card from the outstretched hand of a very surprised Mexican, and innocently inquired in my best dumb tourist voice what the card was. (I didn't look at it - I maintained eye contact and my wide-eyed innocent look). He said, girlie show, and I said, girls? oh excellent, what do they do? dance? he mumbled something about stripping and I acted confused....and by this point, his buddies were laughing hysterically at him, he was blushing and I was still relentlessly curious. Holy Son and Daughter were busting a gut. Holy Hub was pretending he didn't know me and/or wishing he could sneak off to one of these girlie shows.
- hanging out at M&M World - cool store - we came home with 5 lbs of colored M&Ms and a couple of M&M dispensers
- slothing by the pool at our hotel drinking Rum Runners and catching some rays on an 80 degree day while the kids frolicked in the pool
- attending the cheesy Tournament of Kings jousting show at our hotel - kids loved it...
- finally making Holy Hub blow $5 at the slots at the airport while waiting for our flight home - it took him less than 3 minutes to lose it but he wanted to show Holy Son how quickly the slots eat money
- checking out the dancing fountain show at the Bellagio, watching the sky turn from daylight to dusk at the Forum and the Venetian shops, and watching a lion sleep on a glass walkway above my head for 20 minutes or so
I'm already plotting our next canyon trip though - I'm checking into a Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park camping vacation through southern Utah. Can't wait.
4/1/08
Life on Mars
I SO got sucked into this. I suppose that's payback for waking my daughter up this morning under the premise that there was a giant spider in her hair. And then, in turn, waking my son up in a panic that his cherished pet guinea pig was lying around looking sickly, on account of the toxic flea spray we had doused him with last night. Holy Son bolted out of bed like his butt was on fire. He was right some pissed when he heard his sister giggling, "April Fool's!" at the guinea pig cage.Anyways, I took some time filling out the questionnaire - which is linked and listed just below the search box on the Google home page, presumably until midnight PST. But alas, I submitted my answers, they tallied the results and as it turns out, I am apparently exceedingly normal, boring, and not exactly Mars material.
Hubby told me after I went through the motions that it was an April Fools joke. It never even occurred to me. It's late. I'm tired and need to go to bed. And as if I'd go live on Mars anyways. I've moved enough already.
But good one, Richard and Google gang. Can you imagine working at Google and writing Virgle April Fool's copy for a living? Sah.weet gig if you can get it.
Viva Lost Wages!
So we're Vegas bound next week.
I had resisted booking this Spring Break trip for months, in part because I was feeling the urge to travel to a more natural and pristine locale versus ~ how shall I say, supernatural environment such as Vegas, baby.
I fantasized about driving to Yosemite or maybe Zion National Park but alas, the romance and mystique of those road trips would inevitably have given away to the reality of bored kids trapped in a vehicle that likes to suck gas like it's going out of style. Which, by the way, it is.
So we're back to square one. Vegas ~ family style. Which means no party like a rock star, excessive gambling, late-night burlesque shows and stripping on the Strip. Not that we would ever do any of those things, of course.
No siree. Our trip will be decidedly more tame - (pffft, right). We'll be staying at The Excalibur, doing all the thrill rides, gawking at all the hotels and their larger-than-life circus of exhibits and attractions, taking in some family-friendly dinner shows like the Tournament of Kings medieval jousting show; and The Blue Man Group, which I've heard is amazing; and the creme de la creme ~ taking a day-trip excursion to the Grand Canyon. Can't wait for that. Except that I'm horrifically scared that Hub and the kids will get too close to the edge. That frightens me beyond imagination - especially Holy Hub - whose motto in life has always been, "if you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space."
While at the Grand Canyon, we're considering the option of taking a helicopter to the bottom of the canyon and doing a little boat excursion down the Colorado River. It would be a very cool, once in a lifetime way to experience the third of Seven Natural Wonders of the World, but also very extravagant.If we do, we will certainly justify it as a more enjoyable way to piss money away rather than gambling in a casino - which neither Holy Hub or I have ever felt inclined to do. I've plugged a sum total of $25.00 in change in slot machines in Reno, Vegas, and Atlantic City, and only then out of a vague sense of vicarious obligation. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
Anyways, come next week's end, I'm sure we'll have had enough fun, feast, frolic, frenzy and rude tourist line-up jostling to last us a fantastically long time. But I'll save that inevitable epiphany for next week's blogging.
3/22/08
Peep Show
Check out the peeps I made today (courtesy of Ma Schmidt and her yummy Easter basket shipment of goodies to the kids, from which I took the liberty of stealing a few peeps).
The Seattle Times features an annual Peeps contest. I so wish I had got on this earlier - (procrastination is a....ummm, I'll get back to you on that) ~ I woulda, coulda, shoulda entered the contest. If it weren't for my abysmal photography. If you want to see real photography, click here.
Rub a Dub Dub, Two Peeps in a Tub
Playpeep Bunnies
Peeptacular Bouquet
Peeping Tom
Heap of Peeps
Jeepers Peepers
The Seattle Times features an annual Peeps contest. I so wish I had got on this earlier - (procrastination is a....ummm, I'll get back to you on that) ~ I woulda, coulda, shoulda entered the contest. If it weren't for my abysmal photography. If you want to see real photography, click here.
Rub a Dub Dub, Two Peeps in a Tub
Playpeep Bunnies
Peeptacular Bouquet
Peeping Tom
Heap of Peeps
Jeepers Peepers3/18/08
Sissy Girl
OK, I am SO the demographic of this blog post, except that he directs his blog post at a mostly male audience.Acually, I was about to qualify it further by noting that I am so the demographic except that I wasn't really embarrassed to be listening to these tunes back then ~ or even now. But that's not entirely true.
You see, back in the day, I actually did pretend to identify more acutely with the punkier, edgier, Iggyer punk rockers, or the headbangier, stonier Judas Priestlier metal rockers, rather than just admit reality: I was a Cindi wannabe and a Pet Shop girl in the making.
Not much has changed. Case in point, what tune, pray tell, have I been listening to on my car CD player?
Track 16 off the same "Vital collection of Canadian Music" disk, of 2-3 blog posts ago fame, which sports the Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft song. But that was like so yesterday, she says, smacking her bubble gum and blowing a big grape double-bubble.
This week I've been grooving to the Safety Dance by Men Without Hats. But I make sure my windows are rolled down and that no one knows this. It's embarrassing to be listening to such....well, sissy music.
But what can I say? I've even been secretly looking into buying tickets to the Duran Duran concert coming up in May. I wouldn't dream of admitting this to anyone I know in real life - Holy Hub included - he'd have a few choice words for such loserville lurking. I even went so far as to think, well maybe I could take Holy Son, but then I thought, what if someone he knew saw him at the concert - wouldn't that be embarrassing for him, too? Being seen in public at the Duran Duran concert, and with his mother to boot (or his mother the boot)? Or however that goes.
Oh well, I don't know much and I certainly haven't learned a heck of a lot since high school, I feel like I've ran so far away since then, but I do know that about the only sage and prophetic bit of gloppity-goo I gleaned from those years are words I imparted in my high school yearbook (thinking I was all being all thespian wise and wonderful): "this above all, to thine own self be True."
So there, I'll admit it. I'm an 80s sissy girl. Always was, always will be.
Save a prayer for me, won't you?
3/12/08
Luck of the Draw
I love this story.
Mostly because I adore both the randomness and synchronicity of prosperity and luck. Law of attraction proponents will have a field day with winning tales such as this. Life is a lottery that is your's for the winning.
I'm convinced, as of this weekend, that the trick to turning luck from random to fated is to be the ritual. Saturday night, I tried this curious thought on for size.
Since I had been attending a long day's journey into night retreat program all weekend, I arrived home late that night to find Chinese food leftovers and my very own fortune cookie as the remains of the day from Holy Hub and Holy Daughter's dinner out. Holy Son did not dine with them, as he had a different dinner date, but he immediately cautioned me, upon discovering that I was opening and reading my fortune cookie, that if I really wanted it to come true, I should eat the paper fortune.
This was a major paradigm shift in auspicious thinking and ritualizing for me. Eat the words.
It was diamond path brilliant in its "walk the talk" and "words have no inherent meaning" sensibility, and thus, made huge sense to me. Sense as in big-picture, embodied awareness and smells right sense.
So I impulsively did just that, while spurring Holy Daughter to do the same with hers. She was less than impressed with how chewy the paper was, and how it got stuck to her teeth and wedged between them so that her tongue had to dig into the grooves and fell groovy, forcing her to then toothpick flick the remnant bits to clear them, or she would keep obsessing over it. Fortune in mouth syndrome. I thought to myself, yeah, thoughts I allow to become things are much like that, too.
Now, I have to be honest. I have no idea if the words on our collective fortunes will come true ~ I don't much care. They were vague enough fortunes for each one of us (the usual health, wealth and harmonic suspects), ranging from ~
Holy Hub: Something unexpected will come in the mail.
Holy Son: Good heatlh will come to you for a long time.
Holy Daughter: You will enjoy peace and harmony in your home.
Holy: You may have to be patient, think, listen and heed signs.
~ that I'm guessing in the immediacy, inevitability and infinity of space/time boundaries, will be bound to come to fruition somehow, somewhere, sometime. For the lucky lotto winners above, that sometime was now.
As above, so below ~ for that sometime was also now for me. I'm beginning to slowly realize that someday fortunes and happily ever after hopes and dreams are lived in the moment, not the future. This has been a hard one for me to grasp. So, that night, I ate my fortune with my Kung Pao chicken and felt as though my belly and self were both very full and satisfied.
And when that full to the brim satisfaction dissipated, (as it invariably does in matters of Chinese food digestion), it was yet further reminder to me that I had digressed to the past - oh there I go again, why did I eat Chinese food instead of something heartier? I know better. Blah blah blah, monkey mind chatter. And to the future - I wonder if I should let this digest and then have a bedtime snack later? It gave me pause to remember that happiness and fullness come only from within, and these are moment-by-moment choices.
Luck comes in threes, as did fortune cookie messages for me this weekend. After putting the finished touches to the campaign poster above for oh Holy Son on Sunday night after my spiritual retreat had ended, I paused to reflect on my own grace and good fortune of having such a wise son and teacher, who instinctively knows what it means to walk one's talk, eat words and be humble. He can barely walk, chew gum and talk on his cell without tripping, but he can trip along on a higher spiritual plane - figure that one out. To this, I bow auspiciously.
Stay with me now, though as I Orient the face of luck from Asia and leap over to Ireland, in these, the penultimate days leading up to St. Patrick's Day.
Holy Daughter is fast and furiously preparing for her Irish dances that she will perform on-stage in downtown Seattle this Saturday. And I'm stoked because on my 32 squares list of lifelong dreams, I finally get to realize one of my biggest dreams alongside her, by strutting in the St. Patrick's Day parade. OK, so maybe my dream square only specified "be in a parade" but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Or ass end, as it were, should I find myself behind any ponies or Irish rugby players.
So I'm very excited. I'm practicing and preparing my royal wave to the masses of adoring fans and lovers of all things Irish and OK, more than a few drunken partyers who will be literally littering the sidewalks that parallel our parade route. I myself am not Irish per se, although I come by it honestly from an environmental perspective. My maiden name is Quinn so I have a leg up on most, I guess. But as it relates to the parade, I have been given strict instructions by a friend to do at least one spontaneous act or gesture during the parade. Perhaps it will involve that same leg up - who knows. My intent is to see his sage advice and raise it a notch. We'll see where all that Irishnish leads.
Holy Hub sincerely hopes it leads us to the nearest pub. Truth be told, I think he's only doing this parade schtick in hopes of a pot of beer at the end of the parade rainbow. I hear him. And I sincerely applaud those lucky Irish who have life figured out and who lend themselves to the lore of their great nation. Sing bawdy ballads with a lilt and a wink, dance jigs with all of your closest neighbors, down pints til you burp, and zigzag home in the dark of the night. Life if probably not meant to be any more complicated than that.
So why oh why do I make it so?
I feel very much like a brewery these days actually. There is so much stuff fermenting and distilling and swirling inside me. Hops and yeast and barley and water don't even begin to cover it. My keg runneth over and is in need of a tap to keep it contained. And I know that if I drink too much from this primordial alcohol, I am bound to belch profusely and echo Ben Franklin's words about beer being proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
And there you go - I've worked my way back, albeit circuitously, to the notions of love and happiness. Altruisms worth raising the glass of life in toast to, to be sure.
That said, I will leave you on this note - the note of good fortune. Click here if you're feeling lucky. Click here if you're not. And finally, click here if you don't give a schmidt either way.
Irish you health, wealth and harmony. Cheers and bottoms up, blogland mateys.
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