Category Archives: Travel

California. No doubt about it.

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Will and I went on vacation last week and I came back with this conclusion:

I love California.

(I almost said “I heart California” but I’m getting really tired of that phrase. Are we done with that yet?)

We stayed for a few nights at Terranea Resort on the coast and were forced to look at this scenery all day, every day:

It was pretty rough.

Then we moved on to L.A. and pretty much dominated the 405 and Pacific Coast Highway in our sweet Rolls Royce convertible.*

*All Rolls Royce convertibles referred to in this post are actually Chevy Impalas.

In an effort to be brief, I’ll describe the trip the way I most likely would have described it in my 1st grade journal:

“We went on vacation. It was very fun. I saw the ocean and a ferris wheel. I got sunburned on my head because it was sunny.”

Succinct and to the point.

(Sidenote: I actually did go on vacation to California with my family when I was in 1st grade. Half of it was spent watching All My Children in the lobby of the Children’s Hospital of Orange County because my little sister was sick and got dehydrated. It was the best! Seriously. You know how when you were a kid, little emergencies like that are exciting? Or was that just me? I would secretly hope for tornadoes or alien invasions to bring excitement to my mundane suburban life. Also, that kind of catastrophe would be a prime opportunity for me to pretend like I was the star of a disaster movie. I always imagined I’d react with the strength and poise of the blonde chick from Jurassic Park.)

So much for being brief.

And now… some retro-looking photos. Enjoy!

What happened in Vegas

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Over 6 weeks ago, Will and I went to Las Vegas. Around that same time, I told you there would be a post about it coming soon. Relatively speaking, 6 weeks can be considered “soon.” So get off my back, Mom.

Ah Vegas…

We decided to go there because it was pretty much the best option when booking a last minute trip at the height of spring break season. We thought it would be a good place to relax by the pool and get some sun. I even brought a book.

We didn’t think it would be cloudy and 50 degrees the whole time. But, surprise! If I were a gambling woman, I would have lost money on that bet. And that would have been a real shame, since it would cancel out the $2.75 I won at the nickel slots while we were there (big money!).

But despite the weather, we still had a good time.

Here I am a few hours after we arrived somewhere in between the Bellagio and Caesar’s Palace. You know, just hanging out by a hand rail.

The suave gentleman in this photo is my husband getting ready to consume a delicious lunch of sliders and sweet potato fries. This was our only outdoor meal of the trip. <sad face>

The Mirage – serene and peaceful and the outside, scene of a gruesome tiger attack on the inside.

This is inside our hotel, the Bellagio. I liked hanging out in here. If I didn’t look up, I could pretend that we were actually outside and not freezing.

Here’s the pool area where we were planning on hanging out for most of the trip. Completely deserted. Except for one crazy family we saw walking by with towels. They must have been from Siberia or something.

Here’s Will peacefully skipping through a quiet garden. I don’t ask questions. I just let him do his thing. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

After all that skipping, Will felt like he needed to reclaim his manhood, so he made me stop and watch college basketball for a bit.

This is the casino at Aria. I liked the trippy, sleek Alice and Wonderland vibe.

Will was thrilled to come so close to his lifelong dream of draping himself in crystals.

Paris! Just like the real thing. Or at least maybe that’s what I’d say if I’d never actually been to Paris. But as far as plastic-y fake recreations of foreign cities go, it was pretty nice.

More Bellagio.

Num num!

Sun on our last day! (Accompanied by even colder temps.) I was so excited, I had to take a picture from our hotel room.

The streets of New York, New York. Will and I helped to make it even more authentic by mugging a few people.

And one last glamor shot.

So there you have it! Even without the warm weather, a good time was had by all. Viva Las Vegas. Baby.

Oktoberfest, Hermann style

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So last Friday, we drove down to the cute little town of Hermann, MO with our friends Erin and Brent to partake in a weekend of revelry, merriment and general Oktoberfesting.

Hermann’s German roots are still alive and well and there’s a brewery and six different wineries within just a few miles of the downtown area. It was awesome.

I think the fun we had on our trip can best be expressed in a monologue from the 2006 major motion picture Beerfest.  And also by the following photo montage:

Here we all are at dinner on Friday night. I think this was right after a very nice local man came up to us and asked if we wanted to buy some of his “Pro-Life” raffle tickets. The prize? A hunting rifle. Welcome to Hermann.

The next series of shots effectively depicts me getting annoyed at Will because he kept taking the picture before I was ready. He subsequently redeemed himself by finally getting a pretty decent shot of me and Erin.

We found this Oktoberfest hat at another bar we went to, so of course one of us had to put it on.

Turns out it belonged to our server and by the end of the night we had used our impressive skills of persuasion to convince her to give it to us. Did I mention that I was the only non-lawyer on this trip? But then we felt bad and decided to let her keep it.

Tin Mill is the local brewery in Hermann. I highly recommend their Oktoberfest. Although, I have yet to meet an Oktoberfest beer I didn’t like.

Can I tell you how annoying it is to type “Oktoberfest” so many times!? My fingers keep wanting to spell it with a “c” – the correct way. I think I’ve wasted about 10 minutes so far hitting the backspace key.

Moving on…

Here’s a shot of charming downtown Hermann.

The bed & breakfast we stayed at was in the top floor of the building on the far right.

This was our first B&B experience. Let’s just say it was…interesting.

Linda and Olan were our hosts. Linda was a nice woman and expert maker of French toast who made an effort to hide her look of disdain when the four of us showed up for breakfast hungover, unshowered and in our pajamas. Olan was a chatty fellow with conservative leanings and a penchant for leather vests. Our rooms were festooned with American flags and patriotic decor and we had to pray with everyone before we ate.

So pretty standard for small-town rural Missouri.

Before heading to the wineries on Saturday, we decided to check some of the antique shops downtown. Also, we had no idea where to find the winery trolley, so we were pretty much just wandering around aimlessly with nothing better to do.

The antique stores all smelled like the garbage bag full of my mom’s old toys that my grandma used to drag out of the basementwhenever we went to visit her and my grandpa when I was little. Also, they had some pretty cool stuff!

Here we are at the first winery.

“Look, lederhosen!”

I put that exclamation in quotes because I actually yelled that when I saw these guys. Well, I didn’t mean to yell it, but that building was very echo-y.

We drank a bottle of wine, walked up and down a big hill and listened to some polka music. All before noon.

After lunch, we hopped aboard the winery trolley (convenient, right??) and headed to our second stop: Stone Hill Winery.

Deciding on a bottle here was an intense process. It required many, many tastings. Many tastings.

Ohhh, this is why I don’t get carded anymore! Apparently people 7 years younger than me can now drink alcohol. Mere babies, I tell you.

After our tasting we bought a bottle and proceeded to take pictures of our heads on cardboard German people’s bodies, roll down hills, and jump around wildly. You know, the usual.

Our final stop was Oak Glenn winery.

It was a lot less thought-provoking than one my assume by looking at that picture.

The view was good, but the wine…well let’s just focus on the view.

The view!

The trolley ride back to town was good, if only for the fact that we made it back alive. It was standing room only, and I think Def Leppard was blaring on the speakers and some girl next to me told me that I should “grind up on that guy.” Grind. On a trolley. Who did she think I was, some contestant on The Bachelor??

Once we got back to town, we headed to our B&B to watch the Mizzou game and find out that it’s really hard to take naps on antique apholstered benches.

And that about sums up the trip!

So what is everyone being for Halloween?? I’m going as Audrey Hepburn a la Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Mooooooon riiiiiiiverrr…

Iowa you big time

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Couldn’t resist the pun. I think I might have made it up! Or have you heard that one before…? I’m also a big fan of Idaho? No YOU-da-ho! But that’s completely irrelevent to this post.

I just realized that I took a bunch of pictures at my cousin’s wedding in Iowa over Labor Day weekend just so I could put them up on my blog, and I completely forgot to do that! So I owe you some pics. Or Iowa you, as I like to say.

Ok, I’ll stop.

Here’s a pre-ceremony shot in the church. The wedding and reception were in Farnhamville, Iowa. We stayed in Fort Dodge, which incidentally is home to a lovely Applebee’s where men walk around sporting ties with illustrations of Jesus on them under the words “Jesus Saves” in huge white letters. Yep.

This is Will and my bro-in-law Mark. It appears that Will is tenderly stroking Mark’s shoulder with his finger while his other hand clutches my purse. This may or may not be an illusion. I’ll let you decide. But know this: when these two are together, things get weird.

Like my shoes? They had me on the verge of tears by the end of the night, but I got a lot of compliments on them and that’s really what’s important, right? Ask me again when I’m wearing orthopedic shoes at the age of 40, but right now I have no regrets.

The bride was beautiful and the groom was my cousin.

Ha, just kidding Ben, you looked pretty good too!

Here they are leaving the church and trying to not catch on fire due to some of us who may or may not have tried to light several sparklers at once creating large fireballs and momentary terror. I’m guessing the experience of running through flames and trying to avoid smoke inhalation brought these two even closer together. You’re welcome, guys.

After the ceremony, they rode off into the ominous underbelly of a violent storm. On a tractor. Just kidding – it didn’t even rain on them, I just like to bring the drama. I’m serious about the tractor, though. It was Iowa, so it was awesome.

The decorations at the reception were super cute. Leave it to my family to turn them into some sort of competitve sport. Approximately 1 hour (and several drinks) after this picture was taken, we were having a table-wide hard core grudge match, the object of which was to see how many of those little sparkly things we could throw into various people’s wine glasses. Let me tell you, there were some great shots. Some of us delivered under pressure. Some of us nearly choked on the sparkly plastic things that we didn’t realize were in our wine glasses afterwards. It was great.

Once that the whole “getting married” thing was over, my cousin Ben set his sights on his next lifetime achievement: drinking that ginormous beer.

Just to prove we were in Iowa, we had to get gratuitous shots of cornfields and countryside.

And what’s a wedding without champagne?

Seriously, what is a wedding without champagne? NOT a wedding, in my opinion. Weddings = love, and I love champagne. It makes sense.

This is my favorite shot of the night. I love the array of colorful dresses and the flash of light. It happened completely by accident, but I’ll take it.

Here’s when the night got interesting:

I learned one thing about that Enrique Iglesias song “Baby I Like It” – my dad really likes it.

It was an awesome wedding. The entire weekend was a blast. Congrats Ben and Stephanie!!

Crossing off #13 on the Baby Bucket List

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Item #13 on my Baby Bucket List is as follows, and I quote:

“Go on a loooong road trip. Not one of those 5-hour dealies, like the St. Louis to Chicago trip we do every other weekend.”

A couple of weekends ago, we coaxed the Stratus into rumbling all the way up to Michigan, a 7.5 hour drive, and this weekend we are somehow hoping she’ll be able to bump and grind her way to the middle of Iowa for my cousin’s wedding, another 7.5 hour (or longer) drive.

You guys, I’m just going to go ahead and cross this road trip goal off the list:

CHECK!

Both trips are over 5 hours, and honestly, I don’t really enjoy driving much longer than that.

Road trips can be fun, but I seem to have major issues with butt comfort (or lack thereof) when I’m driving. Also, I get stressed easily on the highway and in the presence of roaring metal monsters of death trucks, so I’m constantly tense and can’t relax, which consequently seems to be a good workout for my hamstrings, but still.

I also have a major issue with the audio portion of road trips. The Stratus (bless her heart) hails from a time (2002) when non-luxury cars did not come equipped with iPod docks. I have a handy little hookup thingy that looks like a thermometer on a wire that I can plug into my cigarette lighter (do new cars still come with those?), but it’s kind of a pain.

Also, if there is any sort of sporting event on a station that gets any sort of reception, Will insists on listening to that while I try to not have a seizure caused by the incessant buzzing that accompanies AM radio broadcasts picked up in the cornfields of middle America.

And no, books on tape are not an option. The voice of the reader always starts to annoy me after about 5 minutes. It helps if the person is British, but I still have a problem with it.

If there’s rain, snow, wind, fog, an excessive amount of sunshine, darkness, construction, bumpy roads, traffic jams or two-lane highways, I become a defeated, stressed-out puddle of “I can’t do this,” “This sucks,” and “We’re never going to get there.” It’s not pleasant.

So now that it’s crossed off the Baby Bucket List, I’m officially not planning on going on any more road trips in the near future. Well, after this weekend I guess.

I’m going to go stock up on Red Bull and Twizzlers so I can self-medicate when I start to feel a meltdown coming on. Wish me luck!

Two words: Pure Michigan

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If the title of this post isn’t clear or you’re somewhat dense, I’m in Michigan right now.

Actually, assuming this will be posted at 10 a.m. like I instructed WordPress to do, I will technically be en route to Michigan, cruising down the highway in our sleek 2002 Dodge Stratus.

(That’s also assuming the Stratus hasn’t crapped out on us. She gets a little cranky when I try to go over 60 mph. That’s when I hit the gas even harder and bark that oil changes are for sissies!)

But soon I’ll no doubt be relaxing on the beach in a Great Lake State of mind. (Michigan is called the Great Lake State if you didn’t know. I think it’s also called the Wolverine State, but I don’t have a pun for that, and I’m also hoping wolverines are not involved in any of my plans for the weekend.)

If you haven’t realized it by now, this post is pretty pointless. Its sole purpose is just to announce the following:

I AM IN MICHIGAN.

And you’re (probably) not. Although I can’t be entirely sure about that.

Also, this will be my view as I lay out on the beach, reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which has gotten a lot of hype lately, but 150 pages in, my review so far is “meh.”

Hopefully I’m not as red as that lighthouse when I get back.

Ciao! Or, as they say in Michigan…

Bye!

Trippin’ out

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One of my favorite things to do is go on vacation.

This makes a lot of sense because some of my other favorite things to do are relax, go out to eat, and not work.

Traveling is a priority in life right now because it’s probably going to become a lot more difficult and less frequent once we have kids. Will and I haven’t done our big trip to Europe yet (it’s on the baby bucket list!), but we have gone to a lot of cool places since we got married three years ago.

Today, I’m putting on my “travel guide” hat and giving you my own special take on some of the top places we’ve been to.

San Francisco

3 phrases that best describe our experience: mojitos, sore calves, food poisoning

Best anagram:  No ass can firc

Theme song: “Gonna Be” by the Proclaimers (aka, And I would walk 500 miles…because you will. Walk. 500 miles.)

Ideal outfit: Skinny jeans, flats, tank top, short sleeve shirt, long sleeve shirt, sweater, jacket, scarf (layers are key – it’s literally 10 degrees colder in the shade). Also, I think you could get away with wearing a beret here. If you want to.

Make sure to bring: A cool indifference to homeless people

Boston

3 phrases that best describe our experience: Sam Adams, nausea on a T train, the Redcoats are coming!

Best anagram: Snot bo

Theme song: “Revolution” by The Beatles

Ideal outfit: Know this: nothing is worse than a pair of Uggs. Except for a pair of smelly, sweaty Uggs. It can be 80 degrees there in September. I’m just saying.

Make sure to bring: A dictionary. There are a lot of smarties running around that city. You don’t want to look a fool.

Costa Rica

3 phrases that best describe our experience: pura vida, ATVs are scary, monkeys!!!

Best anagram: A rat coc is

Theme song: “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses

Ideal outfit: Nothing. It’s hot there.

Make sure to bring: Various blunt instruments to fight off large lizards. And Frizz-ease.

Charleston, SC

3 phrases that best describe my experience (this was a girls-only trip): pineapples, heavy accents, I want that house

Best anagram: La rot sneach

Theme song: Dixie

Ideal outfit: Just wrap yourself in a confederate flag. You’ll fit right in.

Make sure to bring: Alligator repellent

Miami

3 phrases that best describe our experience: speedos, GTL, habla ingles?

Best anagram: I am mi (didn’t have a lot to work with there, ok?)

Theme song: “Livin’ la Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin

Ideal outfit: Skimpy bikini with metallic heels, flashy earrings and huge sunglasses. This works for both men and women.

Make sure to bring: Lots of money and those glow sticks you can put in your mouth.

I know, my anagrams suck. That was a lot harder than I thought.

Next up on the travel docket: Michigan! Thanks to those “Pure Michigan” commercials. It’s not that the wistful music and Tim Allen’s soothing voice made me cry or anything. Wait. What?

I went to San Antonio and all I got was this lousy cold.

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Sorry about the negative title of this blog post. I did, in fact, get a lousy cold or some other type of ailment that makes me feel like I swallowed sand paper and my head is full of wet sponges and the mere act of picking up my purse is likely to make me collapse from exhaustion.

I’m blaming the Alamo. Or the plane that brought me back from the Alamo last Monday and the sick person riding on it with me who probably needs to be reminded to wash his/her hands more often.

So here I am, with some exotic Southwestern Tex-Mex illness (sounds like it would go well with chips and salsa and a splash of lime if it weren’t for the illness part), and I just realized that I promised I would tell you about our trip to San Antonio. Well I’m not one to make empty promises.

Let’s hearken back to the good ol’ days of one week and three days ago when Will and I arrived in lovely San Antonio and before I was struggling to free myself from the death grip of the Ol’ Western Texas Black Plague.

First of all, the best thing about this trip was that we got to spend three solid days with our good friends Sarah and Anthony! Shout out to the Florentines! Sarah and Anthony live in Del Rio (scenic backdrop for the movie No Country for Old Men. If you’ve seen the movie, you know that I am using the word scenic loosely), where Anthony is an instructor pilot in the Air Force. It was only a couple years ago that he was deployed in Iraq running dangerous intelligence missions while I was comforting Sarah back in St. Louis by graciously escorting her to every wine bar and nail salon in the area. (Hey, when your man is at war on the other side of the world, alcohol and manicures are entirely necessary, and I was happy to oblige.)

What better way to spend Memorial Day weekend than with a veteran!? Thanks to Anthony and all of the other military people who are way less wussy than me!

Anyway, our trip with Sarah and Anthony can be summed up as follows:

Check into the Westin River Walk – great view of the parking garage!

Take a stroll down the River Walk (a really fun place to hang out with friends if you’ve never been there).

Zero in on the Mexican restaurant that looks like it has the best margaritas. Target acquired!

…3 pitchers later…let’s go play cards!

Will, Sarah and Anthony attempt to teach me how to play Euchre while I demonstrate my limited mental capacity after drinking frozen margaritas for 2 hours (not sure if it was the brain freeze or alcohol that was the problem).

Head to this bar:

We aren’t ones to ignore signs, and we did as we were told.

Bed.

Wake up. At 10:30 am.

I suppress my jealousy as Sarah and Anthony use their awesome iPhone apps to find a place to go to breakfast. My Blackberry Yelp! app didn’t stand a chance.

IHOP it is.

We get there, and apparently, IHOP it isn’t. It’s an IHOP Café – not the same thing. The more you learn…

Hit the pool. And the pool bar.

5 hours later…shower.

Dinner.

Cards.

Bed.

Repeat.

Ok, that was a really condensed summary, but I’ll just say this – it was a great time! I think we all left with a newfound appreciation for the card game “Golf” and a deepening suspicion for all servers named Joshua (inside joke alert!).

Due to the evil San Antonio Fajita Fever and lack of oxygen flow to my brain, I tire easily. Hence, these photos can probably sum up the trip better than my words right now.

And don’t forget the Alamo! Or remember it! Whatever. Where’s the Dayquil?

Ode to Miami Beach

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Want to hear about our trip to Miami last weekend?

Hopefully you do because I just spent 20 minutes of my life composing a song about it. Or, I took a song that was already composed and made up new words.

I present to you a little ditty entitled Party in Miami Beach. Please sing to the tune of Party in the U.S.A. by the always classy Miley Cyrus, because I intuitively knew getting that song stuck in your head is exactly what you needed right now.

If you want, you can picture me singing it to you (a serenade, if you will). My voice sounds a lot like Christina Aguilera’s. Maybe a little bit more soulful. Enjoy.

I hopped off the plane in Miami

With bleary eyes and a need for sun.

Welcome to the land of overpriced drinks – and where can I get one?

Jumped in the cab, here I am for the first time

Look to my right and I see a drag show sign

This is all so crazy, he really looks like a lady!

 

We get to South Beach and see all the Art Deco

And a cute little gecko

That’s when we changed our clothes and we hit the beach

 

And saw an old guy in a thong.

An old guy in a thong.

An old guy in a THONG!

 

So I put my hands up

To cover my face

And make that nastiness go away

Skin folds galore like yeah

Butt floss, no more like yeah

 

I put my hands up

My eyes, my eyes!

I know I probably uttered a screech

Yeeeaa-aa-aah it’s a party in Miami Beach!

 

Walking to the club down Collins Ave.

Everybody’s speaking Spanish now

Like “Hola chica, que paso?”

Are we sure this is an American town?

 

So hard with these juice heads all around me

Definitely like a Jersey Shore party

‘Cause there’s a TV crew and JWOWW

And no, I’m not joking with you now

 

My tummy’s turnin’ and I see The Situation

What an awesome vacation!

That’s when I almost got to take a cell phone pic

 

But MTV guy yelled at me

The MTV guy yelled at me

The MTV guy yelled at ME!

 

So I put my hands up

They’re leaving us now

My chance at fame flies away

I’m all nonchalant like yeah

Idiotic smile on my face like yeah

 

I put my hands up

Let’s go get a drink

A mojito must be within reach

Yeeeaa-aa-aah it’s a party in Miami Beach!

 

Yes, we really saw JWOWW and The Situation filming a Jersey Shore episode. And I made eye contact with Mr. Situation himself! For those venturing to South Beach in the near future, they appear to be working at a yogurt place on Collins Ave. Don’t be surprised if you see Will and me milling about in the background in one of the Season 2 episodes…

Adventures in Charleston: The scenic and the scary

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Sometimes (lots of times) I ask myself, “Why do I live in St. Louis?” I guess the answer is that Will makes more money than I do and has a really good job there. So here I am.

Usually I ask myself that question after returning from a vacation to somewhere really cool. Last Wednesday I got back from a trip to Charleston, SC. I left the beach, the palmettos, the cobblestone streets, the beautiful houses and the history and came back to…the Mississppi River. And the Arch. Eh.

I went with my mom, my sister, and MK and Vicki, two longtime family friends. We were visiting MK’s daughter Becca, also a lifelong friend.

Sidebar: I can’t begin to explain the grief Becca caused the 13-year-old me when I was trying to direct my very first music video (to Mariah Carey’s “Dreamlover”) and she wanted to quit because she was hungry. I don’t think it had anything to do with the idiotic dance moves I was forcing her to perform. She told me last week that she is actually hyperglycemic. A sorry excuse that has very likely cost me a career as an Oscar-winning director. But we’ve moved on from that.

Here are some highlights from the trip:

We went to brunch the first day we got there. Here Bec and I are with our unlimited mimosas. And my love affair with Charleston begins…

 

Next up was a carriage ride. Pretty cool way to see the city.

 

Probably not so cool for the locals who got stuck behind us. But they get to live in houses like this by the ocean, so suck it, locals.

 

Here we are at Magnolia Plantation where we saw flowers, alligators, and lots of Spanish Moss. Good times all around.

 

We toured several cool old houses like these:

 

And we got really tired of posing for my mom’s pictures. Here I am protesting. She got the shot anyway.

 

My sister, mom and MK all went on a late night tour of a haunted, creepy jail. I was too scared to go. My wussy-ness is epic and possibly a topic for another blog post. I hate being scared. But here’s a pic of the jail anyway. Apparently the camera lens is a little dusty. Or are those orbs…?? Crap I’m scared now. Deep breaths.

 

The last night we were there, we went on a tour of the”dark side” of Charleston. Prostitution, slavery, and murder galore!

Fun fact: the prostitutes in Charleston used to put a lemon wedge in their “cooch” to keep from getting pregnant. Sorry if that language offends you, but that is exactly what the tour guide said – I’m trying to give you an authentic experience here. At least I think that’s what he said. He had the thickest Southern accent I’ve ever heard and overused the dramatic pause when telling his stories. MK thought he was having a stroke one time. No worries – he’s ok.

The lemon birth control method proved to be somewhat ineffective (surprise!), as our guide informed us that the parking lot we were standing in used to be full of dead babies. That were aborted using knitting needles. Does anyone have a bag I can hyperventilate and /or puke in?

Here I am with my sister at the end of the tour in a dark, scary, old graveyard that I couldn’t leave fast enough, but of course my mom wanted a picture. I think this was after I soiled myself. Umm…are those orbs again??