September 2006 Archives
The time since my last post has been adventure-filled. The Saturday before last I headed up to South Lake Tahoe for my first ride on the infamous Toad's Wild Ride. Rather than starting at Luther Pass we went to the top of Oneidas. The trail climbs quite a bit and then hits the Tahoe Rim Trail. We rode that trail for a bit before finally reaching the actual start of Toad's. It was good to finally complete this ride since it's been conspicuously missing from my list of trails I've ridden. It was fun, but I was disappointed. The erosion was extremely bad, making for a relatively slow ride down. Oh, well. Even with the slow ride I managed to get more bruised-up than on any ride previously.
Last week took me to Henderson and then Glendale. I went to Henderson on Wednesday with my boss for work stuff. After completing the work day, I cruised over to M&M's® World to get Chase some gear to match what we bought him last summer. I then met back up with the guys from work and we went to Wynn Las Vegas and ate at Okada. It was okay. My food was good, but I don't know exactly what it was. It was short ribs with ginger. It was called something...else. Dessert was funny. For $10 I got "fruit soup". It was basically a tiny pellet of chopped fruit - strawberry, kiwi, melon, etc. - with sorbet on top. They then poured something that appeared to be Sprite over it. Weird.
We returned to the hotel (we stayed at the Luxor) and then I headed out on my own to get supplies at Walgreen's. I didn't want to check luggage on the plane, so I had to get some toothpaste, etc. I also took some time looking for a cache, which I never found. After a brief and disappointing search I decided to go find a virtual, which I knew could be found. I lost track of time and ended up stumbling into my hotel room around 12:30a. It wouldn't have been a big deal except that I had to be up by 5:30a the next morning for our flight to Glendale.
Glendale was fairly uneventful except that we went to a place called Gaucho's Village Brazilian Churrascaria "Steak House". The general idea is that you have a thing in front of you on the table that looks loosely like a salt shaker. The top is red and the bottom is green. You turn it over so that green is up and that means that some guy will come to your table every couple of minutes and put meat on your plate. The meat may be sausage, chicken, steak, etc. You don't know what your getting until the guy shows up with meat. It always seems to be different, too. It may be different types of chicken, steak or sausage each time around. Once you've decided that you can't eat any more meat you turn the shaker over so that red is up and the meat stops. It was good, but weird.
I came back Thursday and things have thankfully been fairly uneventful since. Chase continues to be a perfect baby. He's happy and easy-going. The next post should be dedicated to Chase...
We knew it all along - it's just good that Clay is finally being recognized for what he really has to offer.
While everyone seems focused on suicide bombings, nuclear bombs and other tools that terrorists are using, they are overlooking one of the worst forms of terrorism. I'm talking about the barrage of candy bar varieties that assault us at every turn. It's not good enough to have Kit Kat candy bars. They have to have white chocolate, coffee, milkshake and orange creme flavors. There's also the extra crispy kind, the Big Kat and the extra cripsy Big Kat (as if anyone wanted their Kit Kat to have that special "stale" factor). Check out Wikipedia for an alarming list of unnecessary Kit Kat products.
Kit Kat is just one example. Seemingly, every candy bar has endless varieties, which is pushing favorites like the Idaho Spud off the shelves.
The variety is only part of the problem. I don't care if they make whale blubber-flavored Kit Kats. I'll just buy the original and no one gets hurt. But what happens when they start to tread on sacred ground? I can tell you exactly what happens: 100 Grand with Peanuts.
While walking by someone's desk yesterday I grabbed a "fun size" 100 Grand from their candy dish. I thought it was especially good luck to have found such a prize. I quickly pulled the bar from the wrapper and took a bite only to be assaulted by the ubiquitous taste of peanut. It tasted more like a Baby Ruth - a candy bar that I've never purchased, by the way (I've only eaten Baby Ruth bars from Halloween stock when desperate).
The thing that makes this "peanut" development so disappointing is that sans peanuts, the 100 Grand candy bar is perfect. I don't believe anything can be done to make it better. The size, flavor and texture are perfect. Adding peanuts is like writing your name on the back of a wedding dress with a Sharpie. It's like making a burger out of vegetables. It's like making a live-action Simpsons.
I just think we need to worry more about being better, not worse. Mostly, we need to hold the candy companies responsible for their position in the war on terror. If they insist on terrorizing their consumers, then we must fight back by not eating their products of terror.
What a way to ruin the whole week.
After an unintentional delay, I finally made it to United Blood Services to make a blood donation. The "bloodmobile" was at work last week and I scheduled an appointment, but I had to go to the RTO to provide technical support for a meeting that our company was having there. As a result, I ditched my appointment. They were obviously tracking me because I received a call days later to reschedule. This I did and I went in yesterday.
It's been a while since I've done a double-donation, so yesterday I went for the gold. Everything was going along swimmingly until the blood tech started to look distressed. She kept pressing on the needle that was in my arm, which was fun because it helped me to relive the initial stick over and over! She began to look more and more troubled. She brought a hot pack over to put on my wound as she continued to poke at my arm. The placement of the arm cuff and my sleeve prevented me from being able to see what was happening. About halfway through the process, another tech came over to see what was happening. She assured the other girl that everything was okay, but to slow down the machine.
Finally, the donation was done and they pulled the needle out. It was finally explained to me that fluid was leaking in my arm, causing some bruising. I was told that I need to keep heat on my arm and they gave me some extra heat packs to accomplish that. I now have a weird mark on my arm, but I'm alive. For a while I thought I was a goner.
