Happy Halloween!

Boo! I like Halloween. It seems like it's the only holiday that's purely fun. Sure, a long time ago it had religious meanings, All Hallow's Eve and all that, but nowadays it's just about costumes and candy. Even Christmas, for all we moan about it becoming commercial, is still a religious holiday. Not so with Halloween! No guilt here, except from candy overdoses. Just fun! It's the one time a year I can wear a princess skirt and a flapper wig at the same time without anyone else thinking I'm crazy.

The ongoing saga of Johnny

I was so hoping that by the time Halloween rolled around, I would have definitive answers about my current transportation situation. Alas, 'tis not to be.

I did go to the doctor yesterday, since I still am achy in many places from the car crash. My pain is a two out of ten, there, there, there, there, there, there, there, and *gasp!* SEVEN! Ouch. There's a very tender spot on my ribs, right where my door handle apparently smacked me. Yow. They didn't do any x-rays because even if the ribs are broken or cracked, there's nothing they can do about it. So I am going to tell everyone I have cracked ribs. Why not? The doctor wanted to put me on an anti-inflammatory, but it turns out that I'm allergic to all of them. So it's just me and my good friend Tylenol until these aches and pains go away. They nearly have; every time the doctor asked me how much something hurt, I said "It hurt much more when I made the appointment . . . "

Anyway, back to Johnny. I called the insurance people on Friday, but they hadn't appraised the car yet (or whatever it is they do). So I called back on Monday and asked for an update. Apparently they have towed the car from the tow yard to their storage yard, and have since then moved the car from that place to another place . . . or it may be somewhere in transit between place one and place two.

Yeah. I think they lost my car.

Which bodes well for it being totaled, right? I mean, can't fix it if you can't find it, right? Right?

I couldn't get her to tell me where place one and place two even are (Colorado Springs? Denver?) so it remains a mystery. Time to call in Shaggy and Scooby.

Scary

Okay, so anyone who has known me for more than about a week knows that I am arachnophobic. I hate spiders. I love insects. I think bugs are cool. They're great! I will pick them up and let them crawl all over me.

But I hate spiders. Hate. Haaate. Ick.

On Wednesday, I was at work talking to Chris about how uptight I have been for the last few days. I had to tell the story of my car accident about 20 times that day, and I was very tense - almost shaky - all day. Couldn't relax. While I was talking to her about this, I was preparing to take some Tylenol (my muscles are sore from being clenched for 4 days). We have a drinking fountain in the office, but it's easier to take pills with a cup, so I opened our box of paper cups and got one out. I was standing there, talking to Chris, for about 2-3 minutes with the cup in my hand, when I looked down into the cup before filling it with water. There, in the bottom of the cup, was a HUMONGOUS SPIDER. It was large! It filled the entire bottom of the cup! It looked just like the hobo spiders that have been terrorizing me all over the zoo!

With a shout, I flung the cup away (at Chris, sorry!) and the spider hit the floor. Calm as you please, Chris squashed it to bits while I curled up in the fetal position and hyperventilated a bit. We didn't care to find out whether it was a brown garden spider, or a wolf spider, or a hobo spider - Chris just scraped it off the carpet with the cup and threw it away. After recovering for a moment, I took my Tylenol by using the drinking fountain. No cups for me, thank you very much.

And what's this button for? And what's this button do? And what . . .

So, on the flight home from Denver, I sat in front of a very nice family. A mom, a 13-year-old(ish) girl, and a 9-year-old(ish) girl. They were on their way to California for a vacation, and this was the first airplane ride for either of the two girls. The older one was pretty cool about it, choosing to observe others and figure things out on her own, but the younger girl was really, really excited to be there and had to know everything about everything and apparently had neither watched TV nor movies nor even heard of airplanes before, judging from the question-and-answer session that was going on behind me.

"Is this the seat belt? Do I have to wear it? What seat belt sign? So it goes on and off? But can I stand up? And what's this button? And this one? Volume for what? So it's like a radio? How do I make the seat go back? Like this? Why can't I right now? Oh, did I hit your knees? I'm sorry! What do they mean, air? How do you turn on air? I can't reach. It's cold! A tray! Cool! For like, your drink? Why can't I right now? What safety video? I don't want to watch a safety video. Oh, I do? Air masks? Where do the air masks fall out? What light? I can turn on a light? What if I don't want a light? Why did the other lights go out? She said they're turning off the lights. Did we take off? Oh, we're still not in the air? How will I know when we ta . . . oh. Wow. So I can take my seat belt off now? Yay! Why do I have to put it back on? What's turbulence? I don't feel . . . oh! Why is it bumpy?"

It was cute, in a slightly irritating sort of way. Of course, I was slightly irritated anyway because I was tired and my reading light and the light for the empty seat next to me both weren't working.

She settled down for most of the flight, played Go Fish for a while, and then things got fun again as we were approaching Salt Lake. The mom kept telling the girls that they could see the temple from the air, but didn't have a very good feel for Utah geography, as she thought we would be flying over the Great Salt Lake and that you could see the (Salt Lake) temple from Provo. The older girl was in the window seat, as was I, so as we got lower over the Salt Lake valley I started pointing out landmarks to her and helping her to spot the temple downtown. As you can imagine, this made everyone on the row behind me very happy. They were nothing if not genuinely excited.

As we got very low over the runway, the younger girl began asking questions again, including whether or not we were on the ground yet. I turned around and said, "trust me. You'll know."

She was just about to ask how she'd know, when we hit the runway with the usual thump. It actually was a nice landing. She, caught off guard by it, gave a little scream which made most of the passengers around her laugh. It was pretty funny. "I didn't think it would be like that!"

They were very nice girls and I hope they are having lots of fun in California.

Getting home

Ah, home again. I actually have been home for a few days, but I think I should probably explain how I got here. Since my car is now, essentially, a very expensive tricyle, I was in need of assistance in getting home. AAA has been helpful in the whole insurance area thus far, and were willing to get me a rental car with which to drive home, but I really wasn't looking forward to the 10-hour drive. I loved the drive on the way out, but wasn't feeling good about it any longer - particularly in a rental car. Lots of different scenarios were discussed - Clark and Shannon driving me as far as Green River, my flying from Colorado Springs, etc. - but I ended up finding a $114 flight from Denver to Salt Lake. Since I'd practically be spending that much on gas to drive home (grr, Utah gas prices!) I decided to fly.

Carrie and Clint were very kind and drove me all the way to Denver International Airport - which is practially in Kansas, I think - after Lauren's doctor appointment in Colorado Springs. A quick 62-minute flight later, I was back in Utah. Ahhhhhhh. I now have a rental car, a tiny little Toyota Corolla (from Florida!? This after every car company claimed not to do one-way rentals) which was a total picnic to drive home in last night's blizzard, believe you me.

Thank you very much to Clark and Shannon and Clint and Carrie and Brenda and everyone who helped me out in getting out of Colorado sane and in one piece.

Colorado

9:40 AM, October 20, 2006. Elliott asks the question, "Colorado can't be that desolate, can it?"

9:45 AM, October 20, 2006. I pull the car over and take a picture.

Look at the BABY, Elaine. Come look at the BABY!

I thought since the whole reason I went to Colorado was to visit my sister and her family, maybe I should post a picture of that. It's a bit cheerier than the last few pictures.

Here's little Lauren, and her car-crashingest auntie.

Poor Johnny

This is Johnny on Saturday afternoon at Bishop's Castle.

This is Johnny four hours later, just outside Canon City.

Colorado (Mis)Adventure

This afternoon we didn't have any plans, so Carrie, Clark, Shannon and I all got in my car to go to Florence and visit all of the antique shops (of which there are about 12). I drove along highway 115 from Canon City to Florence and was approaching a bend in the road when a little blue Geo came whipping around the corner, driving in the wrong lane on the two-lane road. My lane.

I was driving kind of slow because I'm not familiar with the area, but she didn't react very quickly. She looked up and saw us, but didn't move over. I slammed on my brakes and tried to pull over onto the shoulder, but she swerved too late and she hit us. All down the driver's side. My entire rear wheel is gone. Gone.

No one was hurt, in our car or hers. The car behind us stopped and waited for police to come, as witnesses to the accident. All of the debris and the spot of impact were all in my lane, so there is no doubt as to who was at fault here.

What remains is that I am in Colorado and my car has essentially been totalled (no official word on that yet) and I have to get home. I do have all my insurance information here with me, and they will reimburse $25 per day for a rental car, so it looks like I will be renting a car to drive home on Monday.

Poor Johnny! My wonderful, beautiful CR-V. I made a payment on it Monday - I had less than 10 months before he was paid off. I just rotated the tires and changed the oil on Monday . . . and now he's gone. I can't see how he's not totalled. Clint drove me to the tow yard and I cleaned him out, got all my possessions - my CDs, my mittens, my Maasai wedding necklace that hung from the rear-view mirror, my maps, and my flashlight. Poor, poor Johnny.

My neck is a little sore and the adrenalin has worn off now. I'm so bummed. When it first happened, all I could do was sob. I hyperventilated and cried until the EMTs came. I think I kept my foot pressed down on the brake for about 10 minutes after I actually came to a stop. I just cried and cried. My poor car, my poor car, it's the only thing I own, really.

I will have pictures up soon, when I can.

Warning!

Warning!
Correctional facility
do not pick up hitchhikers.

This is an actual road sign in Colorado. It struck me as odd.

While it is a good idea to warn travelers against picking up hitchhikers near the prison, I worry about the implications of this sign. Did they have a lot of problems with inmates getting away? Are escapes so common that it's a regular occurrence for escapees to be picked up by cars driving by?

One of Two

So Clark and Shannon and I are in Colorado, visiting Carrie and Clint and their new baby, Lauren. It's lots of fun so far. It was a lot of driving (but I like driving) and some dinky hotels (but I like hotels) but YAY! for babies so we're doing good.

We went out to dinner the first night we were in town, to a local steak place. I so love a nice steak, cooked medium-rare. My order came more medium than rare, but it was still tasty, so that was all right.

When we went in to be seated, the host asked us how many people were in our group. Everyone else said five, and I said six. Hm. Well, six with the baby, but she doesn't really count since she's two months old. So what was I thinking of? Clark and Shannon, Carrie and Clint, me and . . . oh. Just me. Suppose in the last few months I've become used to going places with Elliott and being part of a duo. Being just me is not a problem, but it kind of caught me off guard that I was assuming that I was one of a couple. Particularly since, that night, I wasn't.

It's nice to be one of two.

Traveling

I like traveling. I like going to places I haven't been before. I like getting away from home and seeing different things that I have seen before. I like flying on planes, and driving in the car. I like vacations.

I like airports. Sure, when you go to Kenya and it's an airport followed by an eight-hour flight, followed by another airport and another eight-hour flight, followed by an airport and a three-hour flight and one more airport . . . well, then I don't airports so much. Don't like airplanes so much either, to the point that if swimming home from Greenland were just a little more feasible, I'd jump out of the plane on that second eight-hour flight.

But I digress. I do like to travel.

When I go on vacation, I pack those little travel-size toiletries. They're fun. I always use the same shampoo when I travel, too. It's a shampoo I don't use at home, so when I'm on vacation my hair smells pretty and everything smells like vacation.

Technology

Wow, isn't technology great? We have toasters, and cars, and iPods, and transistor radios, and drill presses, and printing presses, and Diet Coke, and airplanes, and space shuttles. Cool stuff.

And - this is the most amazing part - we also have spellchecker. On this very blog! I just discovered this. How cool is that?

Needless to say, I'm going back and editing my previous posts.

I have the Ebola virus.

It's true. I have Ebola. I got it at the Gateway - the Clark Planetarium, to be precise - and I'm sitting here in my office, staring Ebola in the face. It's a deceptively kind face, not the kind of face you'd expect to find on a virus that kills 50-90% of all those who catch it. Sure, you think it's cute and fuzzy now, but wait 2-20 days and then you'll start bleeding out of unpleasant places and your liver will melt and you kind of turn into soup and die. Then you'll be rethinking your new-found relationship with the Ebola virus.

Sure, right now, you think it's just a fever. "Maybe I have the flu," you think. "Surely this couldn't be something silly like a hemorrhagic fever from equatorial Africa. Surely?" And then - BAM! - out you go. Heading to the big equatorial Africa in the sky.

Or, you recover. You never know. And don't worry about hospitals - they can't help you! Oh, no. Better to stay home. Most cases are nosocomial. That means transmitted through a hospital.

"But wait!" You say. "I am not going to an equatorial African hospital! Surely, surely, they can help me!"

No.

So anyway, I have Ebola. I think it'll be okay. I'm going on vacation today. I've got stuff to do!


For more information, please go to http://www.giantmicrobes.com/.

Testing, testing . . . is this thing on?

Well, eventually we all succumb to fads and trends. Seems like all the cool kids lately have a blog, and even if there are only two people in the world who will bother reading this, it seems like a good idea. If nothing else, I can put stuff out on the interweb and feel that I've contributed to something.

So there you have it.