I have never been one who is shy about packing up my weekend into travel-size test-tubes and the agonizing deliberations on how many pairs of shoes I can squeeze into my carry-on (answer: at least four.) A few weeks ago I watched Up in the Air–George Clooney’s character is on the road 300-and-something days a year–I couldn’t help but think “Wow, I would love that job.” I don’t have pets or plants or kids and the idea of getting the hell out of Dodge whenever the fancy strikes is one of my more favorite daydreams. It is also one of the few things in which I have a real advantage over my married-with-kids friends and siblings. And yes, I collect these things in lists because I am pathetic.
(If you’re reading “between the lines” that is code for “no, I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks for playing”.)
I love traveling. I don’t mind living out of a suitcase and I have never really been bothered by airports or even airport security. I love road trips and as long as I don’t have to eat at McDonald’s or Chili’s more than once I can drive for hours and hours without getting bored or too restless. One of my all-time favorite periods of my life was when I was catching a plane three weekends of every four to go somewhere fabulous. Admittedly, tickets were much cheaper then and I had considerably more discretionary funds so jetting off all the time was actually feasible. Even so, I loved it then and I love it now, discretionary funds or no. I have done my fair share of traveling around lately and while it hasn’t been as consistent, it has been fabulous.
Enter Spring/Summer 2010.
It’s hardly started yet (meaning Salt Lake got dumped with six inches of snow just last week) but I already have a fairly full schedule of travel goodness including a more-or-less spontaneous trip to Washington D.C. that was dreamt up, planned, and purchased in less than 4 hours. That was yesterday afternoon, and I am still giddy over the excitement, and imagine the giddiness will continue right up to take-off. The following is a list of destinations that will be visited between now (or, rather, 2 weeks from now) and the middle of July.
Washington, D.C.
San Francisco, CA
Moab, UT
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
New York City, NY
Mt. Rushmore, SD
Cedar City, UT (Utah Shakespearean Festival)
(It should go without saying that if you happen to reside in or near any of the above-mentioned cities, and are mostly normal, and can provide documentation proving your normality, I would love to meet you! Crazies and Psycho’s need not apply. Send me an email to begin the coordination effort, heidikinsblog[at]gmail[dot]com.)
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go rearrange my closet. Carry-on suitcases for 5 days don’t pack themselves, you know. These things must be carefully planned and packed to maximize utility. And I must try and find a single book that will last me for five days–I’m thinking “The Brothers Karamazov”.
I don’t know how you go to Vegas, but chances are more than likely that when pitted against your standards, my Vegas excursions are ridiculously tame.
- No drinking.
- No gambling.
- No Thunder Down Under show.
- No spontaneous wedding.
Don’t I just sound like a party? That’s what I thought–it’s okay, you can plan your Vegas getaway with someone less square. I won’t feel badly. I really only go to Vegas for one thing, well, okay, two things. Shopping and the Bellagio Fountains. I do love me an hour or so at the Bellagio Fountains. After a long-but-delightful day of trying on shoes, I met up with Bulldog and we headed to The Bellagio for a little gelato and some fountain viewing, it is one of my Favorite Things.
(Photo credit: Bulldog A. McGunsmoke)
Waiting the fifteen or twenty minutes for the next show to start has never bothered me. Besides, there are a million things to do on the streets in Vegas. There are wandering Elvis impersonaters (is more than one Elvis “Elvisi”?), street magicians, and thousands of people to watch.
On Saturday Bulldog & I had tickets to go see the stage-version of The Lion King. Last time I went to New York I went to see Mary Poppins instead of The Lion King, and while it was lovely, I feel like I missed out and have been kicking myself ever since. When I decided to go to Vegas I immediately purchased tickets–good tickets–to see this show. It was absolutely fantastic. Really amazing. I am still not over the costumes. Or the artistry. Or any of it.
(Photo credit here)
If you have the chance to see The Lion King on tour I highly recommend it. The artistry, the costumes, the music, the imagination, the story…it’s breathtaking.
I have been to Vegas several times (I’d venture to guess six or seven) but this was the first time I had seen the famous “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign; Bulldog was kind enough to humor me. The weather was lovely and we managed to be there in-between tour buses, it was perfect.
The rest of the Vegas adventure will be kept off the Internet. (Don’t worry about missing any juicy details–did you see the list at the beginning of this post? Be thankful I’m not boring you with details of my 3-hours delayed flight, or my slightly snuffly nose, or the 6-hour drive home. Really, it’s better this way, cross my heart and kiss my elbow.)
I have another crush. My last crush was on a vast expanse of salt, and while I still have strong feelings for the Salt Flats, at this point they have been momentarily moved aside for a 400-pound bundle of joy.
Zuri, the baby elephant at Utah’s Hogle Zoo was born almost 3 months ago and is perhaps the cutest thing I have ever seen in my entire life (she’s not really pink, lest you were confused by the title). She will melt your heart in about 3 seconds and can wrap you around her (proverbial) little finger and keep you there forever. Don’t believe me? Spend the next 3-minutes of your life falling in love. Seriously. I’ll wait.
Did you watch it? Do you have warm fuzzies? Did you hear me squealing laughing in the background? I apologize for the squeals, but she is just so stinkin’ cute! Do you agree?
Britt went to see go baby elephant peeping a month ago and I’ve been wanting to see Zuri ever since. My friend Fred needed to interview a zoo worker for a class project, and I jumped at the chance to go check it out. And, if you’ve been a good boy/girl like I told you and watched the video clip, you will want to immediately jump in your car, on your scooter, on your bike, or strap on your rollerblades and go see Zuri.
(I was there in the early afternoon, about 1:30-2:30 or so, and she was super playful. Just do it.)
Filed under: AwesomeSauce, Favorite Things, Proof that I'm a Nerd, Revvin' Red Roxy, Utah: Life Elevated
People, I have a crush. A really big one. There are times when you just can’t get someone out of your head, you think about them all the time. Thinking about them gives you butterflies and you are constantly reliving the last moments you spent together. You secretly hoard any shred of evidence you have of your time together and make grandiose announcements like “This will change my life!” You feel like doing cartwheels and are perpetually googly.
I’m totally there.
Did you see my crush? Frankly, I don’t know how you can miss it. You know how I get nerdy-obsessed with things like bridges and buildings and dams, right? Well, you can now add “vast expanse of salt” to that list.
Isn’t it beautiful? I’m afraid I’m falling in love.
The Bonneville Salt Flats are about 120 miles west of Salt Lake City and I can’t believe, as a Utah native, I had never been there before. Kind of on a whim, HRH and I woke up early on Sunday morning and headed toward Nevada. By 9:00 am we were on the vast expanse of sparkling white salt, a place so flat you can actually see the curvature of the earth and my crush hit me full force.
The Salt Flats are really left overs from an sea bed from Lake Bonneville, an ancient lake the size of Lake Michigan that covered the bulk of western Utah and small bits of Nevada and Idaho. Over time the lake mostly disappeared–the Great Salt Lake is the only remaining puddle–creating the Salt Flats of the West Desert, which is the best place in the world for land speed records.
I seriously considered taking Miss Roxy out for a spin on the Salt Flats. Their dry and flat nature makes them perfect for breaking speeding records. My next trip I’ll detour over to the speedway and see what she can do without speed limits and cops and the like.
I am already planning my next trip west, I would love in the evening and watch the sun set behind those mountains. I would love to lie in the middle of the flats and watch the stars come out. People, I’m seriously crushing.
The Golden Gate Bridge, one of my favorite sites in the country. I could actually hang out on Baker Beach all day, listening to the ocean and admiring the bridge. Especially when it is sunny and beautiful and just, amazing.
Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. I don’t have a thousand words, just pictures.
Pictures that make me happy. Hope you have a lovely weekend.
I love San Francisco.
Let me reiterate: I am in-love with San Francisco.
I was reading a post the other day where my favorite Fraulein, Viviane, described her year living abroad in Oklahoma and it was so interesting and even endearing to read about her fascination with all things Americana. Football, grocery store shopping, college life, flip flops from Old Navy, french fries and drive-thru burgers, Mexican food. Hearing her wax poetic about things that are so familiar to me was both refreshing and surprising. I hadn’t ever thought of football (Touchdown! football, not Goal! football), or Old Navy as poetic subjects, but to hear Viv describe it, I got all sentimental about America.
I kind of feel about San Francisco the way Viviane feels about Oklahoma; it is romanticized in my head–and my heart–and can do no wrong. The lights, the sights, the street-vendors, the smells and even the crazies are dear to me in a way my own hometown has never been and may never be. My sentiments about San Francisco are certifiably irrational and quite possibly illogical, as I’m sure disillusioned locals would tell me. I am aware. The thing is, I just don’t care that I am acting irrational or illogical–and those of you in-love with something or someone will understand.
I am not a Hemingway, or Longfellow, or Neruda–laws, I have such a big crush on Neruda right now–I am not naturally poetic. I am more snarky. Or sarcastic. Eh, maybe I’m a bit poetic about shoes, but that’s a very specific type of poetry that is generally small in scope. Describing a pair of velvety black stilettos can be accomplished in a paragraph, to describe a whole city will take volumes and volumes. I believe it has been attempted, although I’m not sure of the success.
What do you love? What experience, or person, or thing absolutely takes your breath away? It is a sound? Or a breath-taking view? Or someone who inspires you? How do you describe that feeling?
There are some things that never happen to me.
Things like winning the lottery, or finding $100 on the street, or something.
Although, one time I did win a shopping spree at a shoe store. 35 pairs of shoes went home with me without any monies being exchanged. It was AWESOME!
This is kind of like that.
Last week, on Wednesday to be exact, I had a sort-of-friend text me at 11:00 pm asking me if I wanted a free plane ticket to anywhere in the continental United States.
Um…..hell yeah!
The catch was that I had to complete all travel by Sunday. Which meant I had 4 days to choose a city, plane a trip, complete the trip and be back home in Salt Lake. That’s a lot of stuff! So, I quickly decided that with the condensed timing I should stay somewhere in the Western half of the country. San Francisco! I miss my adopted home town and I have a lovely friend, Steph, who has volunteered her couch any time I feel the urge to jump on a plane.
So, I booked my ticket, made some arrangements, and schlepped myself out to the airport to wait.
And wait.
And wait, and wait.
And for the first time in Salt Lake history the airport was closed down due to fog. Fog, people. In the middle of the friggin’ desert. So we sat on the runway, and sat and sat and sat. (I realize I am sounding like a Dr. Seuss book here, stay with me.)
After sitting in the airport for a couple of hours, and on the airplane for a couple of hours, I knew two things.
1–I was tired of sitting.
2–My knitting is getting quite good! (#1 on The List!)
So when the Customer Service guy came over on the plane and said that in order for the plane to be able to take off, or land, or something fuzzy like that, 19 people needed to get off the plane. Nineteen. On a flight of 50. That’s a lotta people! However, when United offered to rebook my flight to San Francisco and throw in another, round-trip ticket for FREE.
[This means that in two days I have been offered two round-trip tickets for FREE. Yeah, I just thought you should take a minute and let that settle.]
My hand popped up, I grabbed my carry-on, walked off the plane, called Steph to let her know the situation, re-booked my ticket to San Francisco for next weekend and pocketed my voucher for another free flight and went my merry little way. And I haven’t stopped smiling since. Who knew spending 6 hours delayed in the airport/on an airplane would make me smile for three days straight.
So, the real question is where should I go with my other free ticket? Florida? Chicago? New York? Boston? D.C.? (Yes, most of these are East Coast…I want to get the biggest bang for my free-buck, people.) Thoughts?
Filed under: Favorite Things, Handsome V, Proof that I'm a Nerd, There and Back Again
You remember how I am a sucker for architectural stuff? Bridges on the East Coast, bridges on the West Coast, cathedrals, towers, dams, classic architecture…ya know, nerdy I-used-to-be-a-declared-architecture-major stuff. I’ve been to Seattle twice now and have yet to go to her most iconic monument. (Ok, I’ll stop with the obsessive linkage..see “Proof that I’m a Nerd–with a capital “N”.) I’ll save you the history on the Space Needle, but it was built in the 1960′s for the World Fair with deliciously mod-ish architecture.
I begged Handsome to walk around the entire base taking pictures with me, the sun wasn’t right from this side, the stairs make for cooler angles from that side. I figure since it took him a third trip to his hometown before I got a trip to the Space Needle, he can deal with wandering around the base for an hour.
We did not go up to the top of the Space Needle, because despite the blue-ness of the sky in these photos (Thank you, Photoshop), it was really quite gray and with very limited visibility. What? I like the overcast thing, but I’d rather my archived memories had a bit more color. It should be noted, my scarf was a bright blue to start with, thank you Handsome. If I’m going to spend $18 dollars on an elevator ride, I’d like to see more than 3 blocks; which means that I get to go back on another trip to Seattle, which means you–dear Internets–get yet another rambling post about how much I love architecture (see obsessive linking at the beginning of the post).
I wish I could write something more that is entertaining, or give you fodder to make fun of nerdtasticness…but I can’t help but just look at the forty dozen or so pictures from the Space Needle and just, be happy. So, I’ll just leave it at that. Fifty-year old monuments that bear a striking resemblance to a UFO stuck on top of a tripod somehow make me happy. Shrug.
Merry Christmas from The Emerald City! (That would be Seattle, not Oz. I haven’t had that much eggnog.)
Imagine that you are sitting next to your Christmas Tree and I am handing you a present with a big shiny bow. Open/download it and turn up the volume.
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
My oldest brother and my youngest sister happen to be musical prodigies and a few weeks ago they decided that they’d record a song for Christmas, and I think it is absolutely beautiful. A couple of hours in my brother’s non-recording-studio-basement and this is what you get. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Merry Christmas
Not that kind of eight inches, you sicko’s. Sheesh! Get your collective minds out of the gutter so mine can pass through, will ya?
Ahem. Moving on.
I am twenty-five years old, and only a couple of months away from turning twenty-six, and last night I did something that I believe propels me into real life “Adulthood.” For the first time I went to a salon to get my hair cut. This was not a trim, this was a chop. Eight inches of chopping and there was a pile–a BIG pile–of blondness on the floor. Eight inches. That’s a lotta hair, ladies and a certain Handsome gentleman who is getting his first preview of the new cut via the internet.
I can be very high maintenance when ordering in a restaurant–sauce on the side, extra tomatoes, switch this for that–but when it comes to my hair I am a bit, well, um, challenged. I have naturally platinum-ish hair, so I have never colored it and don’t have to worry about keeping up with highlights or lowlights or whatever. I have naturally straight hair, so I wash it at night, go to sleep with wet hair and in the morning all I have to do is give it a good shake, a smidge of a curl and call it good. I don’t use product, I don’t use hot curlers, I don’t own a straightening iron…I am lazy. L-A-Z-Y. I need a cut that is super low-maintenance but somehow makes me look like I am no longer 17. P.S. I still look exactly the same as I did when I was in high school…and until tonight I had the exact same hair cut. I don’t know why I was shocked that I looked the same. Exactly the same.
Last week there was a What Not To Wear marathon on TLC…and I TiVo’ed about a dozen episodes. As I watched Nick Arojo transform these women with a simple haircut I started to feel like I needed a new ‘do myself. So, I called up my cousin Jessica, who just opened a brand new hair salon and begged her to accept my split ends (read: frayed ends) and hasn’t-been-trimmed-in-8-months hair (what? I told you I was lazy!) and turn my locks into something respectable. Jess reassured me that she would not lecture me for my lack of trimming and I booked an appointment. Olivia Jade Hair Studios is in Saratoga Springs, and before you tell me Saratoga is a hundred miles away on the other side of the lake in Utah County, let me just tell you that it only took me 12 minutes to get there from IKEA. Seriously. Check them out. They are amazing and have lots of options for those slightly higher maintenance and mid-maintenance hair people, Olivia Jade will take care of anything you’ve got.
Would you like to see pics? Well, if you’re anything like me–and I like to think you are–of COURSE you want pictures! Admittedly, I forgot to take a “before” picture, so I’m gonna have to borrow one from several months ago…my hair pre-chop was actually a few inches longer than in this pic from my New York adventure back in June. June! That was six months ago! Holy crap my hair was long! “Was”, being the operative word.
I miss New York. I do not, however, miss all of that hair, it was down past the middle of my back and definitely time for a change. I have a picture of the pile of blonde clippings that Jess chopped off my hair…but it seems a little creepy to post a picture of my own hair clippings. I think serial killers and psychopaths are the only ones who post pictures of their own hair clippings; and serial killers and psychopaths do weirdo google searches for pictures of other people’s hair clippings, so I’ll just skip to the final product.
Ta-daaa! I’m an adult! With an adult hair-cut! CUTE adult-hair! It’s actually a bit shorter in the back–Handsome, don’t freak out, there is still plenty for you to play with–there are layers and choppy pieces and something called “textured ends” and I can’t stop touching it. I can’t stop shaking my head. I can’t stop just LOVING it! This is my first real hair cut and it is shorter than it has been in a decade. And I love it.
Did I mention I love it? Jess, you are fabulous! Everyone else, call her immediately for a follicle transformation!
