October 2008 Archives

I tried to figure out how to go home to Texas for the week of Christmas, really I did.  But it was just excessively expensive, and I thought a nice quiet Christmas in Seattle actually sounded really nice.  (Note: my family's big holiday gathering is at Thanksgiving, and we do presents and everything at the end of November so we don't have to fuck with it in December. It hasn't been required to go home for Christmas Proper in about 10-15 years.)

I planted the seed in my sister's mind that she should consider coming up to visit me, seeing as she has the whole week off, too.  She is smarter than me, and was able to find a decently priced plane ticket.  And I suggested that maybe, just maybe...she and I could spend a couple of days in Vancouver while she was here.  Vancouver holds a special place in both our hearts.  For no apparent reason.  Once we played one of our dumb list-making games during a long trip in the car.  One particular round's list was our top 3 vacation spots, and we both chose...Vancouver?

Staci and I have been on vacation to Canada together once before.  It was 2002, aka Wrestlemania XXIII.  We bought a WWF Travel Club package to go see Wrestlemania at the SkyDome in Toronto, and spent 3 days immersed in total WWF-itude.  It seemed appropriate to try to incorporate something wrestling-related into this trip to Vancouver, too, so that Staci could have the privilege and honor of saying that she attended wrestling matches every single time she ever set foot in Canada.  I set to work finding a regional wrestling alliance in the Vancouver area.

And lo and behold, I found Extreme Canadian Championship Wrestling!  And fortuitously, there are wrestling matches on December 26 when Staci will be here!  Tickets were only about $12, but of course I sprang for the $15 "FRONT ROW" seats.  No crappy Canadian wrestling match seats are too good for my sister!

Epilogue:

When I was buying the tickets, there was a typo in the PayPal checkout and "Extreme Canadian Championship Wrestling" was transformed into "Extremely Canadian Championship Wrestling."  I think I prefer that name.

I tend to have extracurricular activities that would probably be more appropriate for an 8 year old girl.  The tap dancing, the hula hooping, the roller skating...

And now I can add piano lessons to that list!  There is a fancy Sherman Clay piano shop right across the street from my office, and they have secret lessons up on the upper floors where students get to play on Steinways!  I met the instructor yesterday to talk about my goals and desires (basically to play "Linus and Lucy" and the theme to "Entertainment Tonight" flawlessly, from memory).

The next round of classes start in the next few weeks, so I have been on a mission to find an affordably priced, yet still radical digital piano with weighted hammer action.  I found something amazing.  The price is definitely right at $54.99...



Although I suspect I probably need about 80 more keys to be able to play anything properly.

Back in August, I bought 2 tickets to the big Dallas/Ewing/Southfork celebration that's coming up in November.  (One for me, one for my sister.)  A few weeks ago, I ended up getting a third ticket for my friend Shashana...and spent two days on the phone trying to get a hold of someone who could answer some questions about seating so that I could be sure that the 3 of us could sit together even if our tickets weren't purchased in the same bundle.  No one could give me a straight answer, so I just took a chance and trusted we could work it all out when we arrived at Southfork Ranch on night of the event.

Today, almost 3 full weeks later, I finally get my call returned.  (!?)  And it was the strangest voicemail message I think I have ever received.  The voice had creepily perfect diction, and the message started like this:

"Hi Halee, my name is Brad Stevens and I'm the co-producer of an event.  Called the Dallas 30th Anniversary Cast Reunion.  And Ewing Barbeque.  At Southfork."

Brad Stevens talks weird.  He puts full stops.  Where there should just be pauses.  Maybe Brad Stevens.  Is a recording?

"I'm noticing that you have a question about seat-ing.  For three of you.  And whether your third friend who may be joining you will be available to sit.  Together.  Or will be allowed to."

I'm pretty sure my friend is available to sit, Brad.

"The general answer, Halee, is: I think so...but I would like to visit with you a little bit.  BRIEFLY.  If you get a chance.  You can call me.  We'll have a BRIEF chat."

What are you trying to tell me, Brad?  You don't want to have a nice long whispery talk with me for hours and hours, where we both fall asleep on the phone together?  Okay.  I think I can keep our conversation BRIEF.  Unlike your voicemail. 

P.S. Listen for yourself...

My mom used to be in club that had progressive dinners.  This didn't mean that the food options were extremely forward-thinking, it meant that it was a multi-course meal spread across multiple locations.  They would have appetizers at Neysa's, entrees at Maggie's, dessert at Janice's, and coffee at Ruby's.  Last week when I was in Austin, I accidentally had a progressive dinner.  A white trash progressive dinner.

Entrees were at Torchy's Tacos, a trailer selling tacos:



Then dessert at Hey Cupcake, a trailer selling cupcakes:

We didn't really have concrete plans for my second night in LA, so we did what seemed most logical: to head down to the neighborhood of THE Church of Scientology International Celebrity Centre and snoop around.

1. We walked up to the center, fully knowing every move we made would be videotaped, and every word we uttered would be recorded. I took that opportunity to loudly reiterate my confusion between "dianetics" and "diuretics."
   
   
   
   
2. As we walked around to a dimly lit side street alongside the complex, a bicycle cop / security guard / Scientology Overlord stopped in his tracks, turned around, and started slowly trailing us.  I still managed to snap off this shot of both the parking dungeon and the castle where they keep the snails or Xenu's ashes or whatever.
   
   
   
   
3. There was a set of apartments directly next to (maybe even physically connected to) the compound.  We wondered if that was just an unfortunate location for some tenants...or if this was some sort of safehouse for wayward thetans.  Then we came across the most exciting find of the evening.  What appeared to be an actual E-meter machine sitting on a cart just inside the apartment gate!!
   
   
   
   
4. Then suddenly, a real, live Scientologist shuffled past us!  I'm not sure if I'm remembering correctly, but I think he had on a tuxedo.  (For some reason, in my mind all Scientologists always wear tuxedos.)  He hurried by, and did not offer to audit us although he was clearly making a beeline for that E-meter.
   
   
   

The next day we watched this documentary on a disillusioned (and highly vocal) ex-Scientologist, but...it put us to sleep.  No one could stay awake through this thing.  I looked over at Kris when we both woke up and realized we had both nodded off and she said, "Shit.  I think I'm a Scientologist now."