The Places You'll Go: Day Four

In the spirit of going places, remembering Aunt Debbie's legacy and putting some positive memory to end our trip we decided to stop for a couple of days in Gatlinburg on our way home. Nothing says "We're in Gatlinburg" like posing with a great big ass bear statue I think.

My husband and I were chased out of our hot tub during our honeymoon by a bear here in Gatlinburg. Maybe that's why I'm amused by taking photos of bears with my children.

I feel like it was probably more along the size of this latter one. I can't tell you, however, as our naked butts were busy running and carrying our booze as fast as we could back into our cabin. Stupid bear.

Besides taking pictures with bears we did the requisite touristy things. We went to the aquarium where I decided I wanted to touch a jellyfish as much as the kids did. It was REALLY kind of neat to touch them. They feel quite lovely and smooth. Little bastards of pain of suffering in disguise is what they are.

There were also stingrays to pet - a lot has changed here since we came on our honeymoon. Or maybe it hasn't and we were just in "we just got married" shock at the time. I can't even say.

The kids always love aquariums but I think I love them most of all. I still have this intense desire to get in the water with these beasts and know them, like some Aquatic Dr. Doolittle.

Oh my god - it just OCCURRED TO ME THAT THIS IS WHAT AQUAMAN IS - he's AQUATIC Dr. DOOLITTLE. How odd. Anyway...

I don't have a lot of profound take aways from our trip to the aquarium. It was a nice decompression from the stress and sadness that came before.

Maybe it was just a respite from the world. It served us well if so.

The Places You'll Go: Day Four

In the spirit of going places, remembering Aunt Debbie's legacy and putting some positive memory to end our trip we decided to stop for a couple of days in Gatlinburg on our way home. Nothing says "We're in Gatlinburg" like posing with a great big ass bear statue I think.

My husband and I were chased out of our hot tub during our honeymoon by a bear here in Gatlinburg. Maybe that's why I'm amused by taking photos of bears with my children.

I feel like it was probably more along the size of this latter one. I can't tell you, however, as our naked butts were busy running and carrying our booze as fast as we could back into our cabin. Stupid bear.

Besides taking pictures with bears we did the requisite touristy things. We went to the aquarium where I decided I wanted to touch a jellyfish as much as the kids did. It was REALLY kind of neat to touch them. They feel quite lovely and smooth. Little bastards of pain of suffering in disguise is what they are.

There were also stingrays to pet - a lot has changed here since we came on our honeymoon. Or maybe it hasn't and we were just in "we just got married" shock at the time. I can't even say.

The kids always love aquariums but I think I love them most of all. I still have this intense desire to get in the water with these beasts and know them, like some Aquatic Dr. Doolittle.

Oh my god - it just OCCURRED TO ME THAT THIS IS WHAT AQUAMAN IS - he's AQUATIC Dr. DOOLITTLE. How odd. Anyway...

I don't have a lot of profound take aways from our trip to the aquarium. It was a nice decompression from the stress and sadness that came before.

Maybe it was just a respite from the world. It served us well if so.

The Places You'll Go: Day Three

Once upon a time a married couple with a very young daughter bought their first house. They bought a fixer-upper that needed a LOT of fixing-uping. That was okay as the man built houses for a living, and his brother owned a brick mason company and between them they had both the tools and the talent for turning any house into a lovely place. The home they bought was pretty large, possibly too large for a couple with one child and no more to come, but still they got it cheap because it was in such disrepair.
In their large detached two car garage were many pianos. It seemed to be storage for a couple dozen pianos made at the Starr-Gennett piano factory. Many were water damaged, or had other damage and were hauled away. One though was kept and cleaned up. A lovely upright of deep mahogany, with real ebony and ivory keys.
When I was about 3 or 4, the man - whom I called Grandpa because he was mine, told me that if I learned to play it I could have it.
It's one of those pieces that a person hauls around with them. I once broke into my grandmas house when her house was being auctioned off by some evil lawyers (which is a story for a different time) and with some friends made off with as much as I could in the way of family keepsakes - foremost being my piano. I've dragged it across the country from state to state.
I don't think I've had it tuned in 20 years.

The factory burned down, they stopped making pianos and focused on recording for a time - first as Starr-Gennett then as Gennett records. What's left now are just the shells of the buildings that manufactured one of the great "material possession" loves of my life, my piano.

After Aunt Debbie's funeral we drove over there and I wandered through the graveyard of this great place, wishing I had seen it sooner but glad I got the chance to finally walk around at this place.
It's lovely, they've made it a park.

There is a greenway people run on and bike on, and apparently they rent the building out for events. We met a lady who told us they held her prom there. I kind of like the idea of that, the music lives on in the shell of the building now.

Some of my favorite things around the little park at the factory were the many murals.There are murals all over Richmond and I have to kind of love a little town who embraces color and art in this way.

It was a fun walk down memory lane, to a place I had never been. I guess that's how you know you're home.

The Places You'll Go: Day Three

Once upon a time a married couple with a very young daughter bought their first house. They bought a fixer-upper that needed a LOT of fixing-uping. That was okay as the man built houses for a living, and his brother owned a brick mason company and between them they had both the tools and the talent for turning any house into a lovely place. The home they bought was pretty large, possibly too large for a couple with one child and no more to come, but still they got it cheap because it was in such disrepair.
In their large detached two car garage were many pianos. It seemed to be storage for a couple dozen pianos made at the Starr-Gennett piano factory. Many were water damaged, or had other damage and were hauled away. One though was kept and cleaned up. A lovely upright of deep mahogany, with real ebony and ivory keys.
When I was about 3 or 4, the man - whom I called Grandpa because he was mine, told me that if I learned to play it I could have it.
It's one of those pieces that a person hauls around with them. I once broke into my grandmas house when her house was being auctioned off by some evil lawyers (which is a story for a different time) and with some friends made off with as much as I could in the way of family keepsakes - foremost being my piano. I've dragged it across the country from state to state.
I don't think I've had it tuned in 20 years.

The factory burned down, they stopped making pianos and focused on recording for a time - first as Starr-Gennett then as Gennett records. What's left now are just the shells of the buildings that manufactured one of the great "material possession" loves of my life, my piano.

After Aunt Debbie's funeral we drove over there and I wandered through the graveyard of this great place, wishing I had seen it sooner but glad I got the chance to finally walk around at this place.
It's lovely, they've made it a park.

There is a greenway people run on and bike on, and apparently they rent the building out for events. We met a lady who told us they held her prom there. I kind of like the idea of that, the music lives on in the shell of the building now.

Some of my favorite things around the little park at the factory were the many murals.There are murals all over Richmond and I have to kind of love a little town who embraces color and art in this way.

It was a fun walk down memory lane, to a place I had never been. I guess that's how you know you're home.

The Places You'll Go: Day Two

It seems like the places we've gone have been too much for sad reasons lately. It isn't entirely true, but you know how harsh words loom larger than kind ones? Sad trips loom larger than happy ones as well.
We rolled north, returning to our homeland to say goodbye to someone we loved and with it came all the stress of travel, the joy of reunion and the heartbreak of death.
Pretty typical trip to Indiana lately, I must say.

We rolled into the church right at 10 am on the dot, running late as is our usual in a family with two special needs children, and I was directed into an ante room where we barged straight in on the whole family and Aunt Debbie's casket. The worshipers in the sanctuary were praying, and the processional inside had not begun. As we stumbled in, the twins, Julia and I, I gave Aunt Suzie a hug and right at that moment Miles chose to shout "Poop! I need diaper!"

Well if that's just not a circle of life moment I don't know what is.

I abandoned two of three children with Aunt Suzie and IN HEELS tore back out of the church to find my husband and oldest coming in, deposit Miles with them "He's pooped!" and run BACK into the church just in time to direct my own children to the back of the church. It's always better to be close to an exit when you have two severely autistic children, you never know when someone is going to begin shouting about poop, obviously.

The funny part is, I wasn't embarrassed. I've lived this life long enough that I can't be embarrassed by autism anymore. I felt bad that other people had to be part of the crazy at such a sad and stressful time but, that's also LIFE STUFF and life isn't always tidy and reverent.

I also happen to know Aunt Debbie would've laughed.

The little town where the girls lived (we called them the girls, grown ass almost 70 year old women and we called them the girls, I don't know why) is a little sleepy town on it's way to really damn hip. After the funeral we decided to go wander a bit and see what we could find to see and do, and to let the kids relax a little bit.

We found what might actually be the very worst ice cream shop in the world. I mean, there might be worse, but one usually expects a certain LEVEL of ice cream at these sort of artisan little creamery places right? First see how GRAINY that ice cream is? OMG IT IS TERRIBLE RIGHT? It tasted worse than it looks. It was GRAINY. As though it were Ice Milk which is something you probably never had unless you diet or grew up poor. My grandmother wasn't poor but had a weird thing for it.
It's garbage.

My kids however, thought it was amazeballs.

Trying to use hip words. Go with me.

Here was the really amazing part of our day, however, the moment of meaning in the sorrow that happened as we said goodbye to someone we loved. Julia said "We're just like Aunt Debbie like that man said." That man was the preacher at the funeral and he had talked about the way she loved to travel, and how she was always going places, seeing the world, and visiting he friends along the way. "We like to go lots of places and see the world too," Julia told me. "We are just like Aunt Debbie."

Really, that's one of the best things I've ever heard. And I know she would approve.

The Places You'll Go: Day Two

It seems like the places we've gone have been too much for sad reasons lately. It isn't entirely true, but you know how harsh words loom larger than kind ones? Sad trips loom larger than happy ones as well.
We rolled north, returning to our homeland to say goodbye to someone we loved and with it came all the stress of travel, the joy of reunion and the heartbreak of death.
Pretty typical trip to Indiana lately, I must say.

We rolled into the church right at 10 am on the dot, running late as is our usual in a family with two special needs children, and I was directed into an ante room where we barged straight in on the whole family and Aunt Debbie's casket. The worshipers in the sanctuary were praying, and the processional inside had not begun. As we stumbled in, the twins, Julia and I, I gave Aunt Suzie a hug and right at that moment Miles chose to shout "Poop! I need diaper!"

Well if that's just not a circle of life moment I don't know what is.

I abandoned two of three children with Aunt Suzie and IN HEELS tore back out of the church to find my husband and oldest coming in, deposit Miles with them "He's pooped!" and run BACK into the church just in time to direct my own children to the back of the church. It's always better to be close to an exit when you have two severely autistic children, you never know when someone is going to begin shouting about poop, obviously.

The funny part is, I wasn't embarrassed. I've lived this life long enough that I can't be embarrassed by autism anymore. I felt bad that other people had to be part of the crazy at such a sad and stressful time but, that's also LIFE STUFF and life isn't always tidy and reverent.

I also happen to know Aunt Debbie would've laughed.

The little town where the girls lived (we called them the girls, grown ass almost 70 year old women and we called them the girls, I don't know why) is a little sleepy town on it's way to really damn hip. After the funeral we decided to go wander a bit and see what we could find to see and do, and to let the kids relax a little bit.

We found what might actually be the very worst ice cream shop in the world. I mean, there might be worse, but one usually expects a certain LEVEL of ice cream at these sort of artisan little creamery places right? First see how GRAINY that ice cream is? OMG IT IS TERRIBLE RIGHT? It tasted worse than it looks. It was GRAINY. As though it were Ice Milk which is something you probably never had unless you diet or grew up poor. My grandmother wasn't poor but had a weird thing for it.
It's garbage.

My kids however, thought it was amazeballs.

Trying to use hip words. Go with me.

Here was the really amazing part of our day, however, the moment of meaning in the sorrow that happened as we said goodbye to someone we loved. Julia said "We're just like Aunt Debbie like that man said." That man was the preacher at the funeral and he had talked about the way she loved to travel, and how she was always going places, seeing the world, and visiting he friends along the way. "We like to go lots of places and see the world too," Julia told me. "We are just like Aunt Debbie."

Really, that's one of the best things I've ever heard. And I know she would approve.

Mini Pretzels and Man Hands

My mini rant today is about the in flight snacks on airlines, specifically Delta. I told a close friend of mine that in Atlanta we're insanely brand loyal. We drink Coke, we fly Delta. So it's Delta on which I fly and Delta is the warm bosom of familiarity to me when I take to the skies.

Knowing their routines, their banter and chatter is comforting when you're racing through the skies at insane speeds and at 35k feet. I like knowing the DRILL.

But I find it annoying that on shorter hops their snacks are ABSOLUTE SHIT.

Once upon a time you got peanuts and a beverage. These were the dark, ancient times of air travel. It's possible these medieval times exist on other airlines but I don't know about it - as I'm from Atlanta and we fly DELTA.

In a perfect world, one just short of them serving you food, they offer the perfect accompaniment to their quite excellent coffee - BISCOFF cookies.

These cookies are so damned good they are almost a sin. They're like some delicious variation of what a pecan sandy aspires to be. Slightly caramelized, they are amazing both as an accompaniment to the delicious Starbucks coffee served or just dunked straight the hell in some black coffee.

On shorter hops,less than 90 minutes is the magic line in the sand based on my own travel experience, you get...MINI PRETZELS.

These are possibly the stupidest snack in the world. While you do have the option of getting a soda, water, juice or some more PRETZEL APPROPRIATE beverage with it - do you SEE how small this thing is? I think an adult doesn't actually have to chew them.

Additionally all the do is make you angry you didn't actually have a snack. Here's your pop, here's your  mini-pretzels for your giant man hands. Take it easy there GIGANTOR, don't eat them all at once!

I was thinking about this on the way home from Indy, about how this is one of the stupidest refreshment services I ever encounter. People might argue that they're free but I just paid a fortune in airfare no they aren't free they're calculated into the cost I can guarantee you that. So I'm PAYING for micro-pretzels. Nano-pretzels, if you will.

I think a huge problem with my level of dismay would be best stated as the complete lack of satisfaction they provide AS a snack. If someone had set out a huge tray of cheese and sliced a cheese cube in half and gave that to you, that's what eating these pretzels is like. It could be good, but it's just....eh.

Part of this whole "these don't satisfy anyone" may simply be due to the huge calorie deficit they represent.

Delta Airlines - Biscoff Cookies (2-pack)

Calories	120	Sodium
Total Fat	5 g	Potassium
Saturated	2 g	Total Carbs
Polyunsaturated	0 g	Dietary Fiber
Monounsaturated	0 g	Sugars

Biscoff cookies come to the table with 120 calories and a bit of fat. They aren't a meal but generally I land after a couple of hours and I'm not going to die if I don't eat soon. In fact there were plenty of instances where I didn't get to eat for hours (mostly due to other people being quite rude) and Biscoff cookies kept me alive, like some sweet delicious foreign hard-tack . 

Mini-Pretzels though? 

Calories	45	Sodium
Total Fat	1 g	Potassium
Saturated	0 g	Total Carbs
Polyunsaturated	0 g	Dietary Fiber
Monounsaturated	0 g	Sugars

This is the sort of snack that people who say things like "Oh dear I forgot to eat today" might consider a real snack. This is the devil's work, in snack form.

It's complete bullshit. That's what it is.

Luckily I was wise on my outgoing flight and ingested a chicken biscuit and a sweet tea because it's Atlanta, so when I landed in Indy I wasn't ready to eat the entire city. But on my return flight there were delays, there was so much WALKING, there was construction, there was nothing but annoyance on my sojourn north and I had no choice but to slam a bunch of popcorn chicken, fries and a peanut butter and chocolate shake from Sonic.

I hope you are happy with yourself, Delta.

Mini Pretzels and Man Hands

My mini rant today is about the in flight snacks on airlines, specifically Delta. I told a close friend of mine that in Atlanta we're insanely brand loyal. We drink Coke, we fly Delta. So it's Delta on which I fly and Delta is the warm bosom of familiarity to me when I take to the skies.

Knowing their routines, their banter and chatter is comforting when you're racing through the skies at insane speeds and at 35k feet. I like knowing the DRILL.

But I find it annoying that on shorter hops their snacks are ABSOLUTE SHIT.

Once upon a time you got peanuts and a beverage. These were the dark, ancient times of air travel. It's possible these medieval times exist on other airlines but I don't know about it - as I'm from Atlanta and we fly DELTA.

In a perfect world, one just short of them serving you food, they offer the perfect accompaniment to their quite excellent coffee - BISCOFF cookies.

These cookies are so damned good they are almost a sin. They're like some delicious variation of what a pecan sandy aspires to be. Slightly caramelized, they are amazing both as an accompaniment to the delicious Starbucks coffee served or just dunked straight the hell in some black coffee.

On shorter hops,less than 90 minutes is the magic line in the sand based on my own travel experience, you get...MINI PRETZELS.

These are possibly the stupidest snack in the world. While you do have the option of getting a soda, water, juice or some more PRETZEL APPROPRIATE beverage with it - do you SEE how small this thing is? I think an adult doesn't actually have to chew them.

Additionally all the do is make you angry you didn't actually have a snack. Here's your pop, here's your  mini-pretzels for your giant man hands. Take it easy there GIGANTOR, don't eat them all at once!

I was thinking about this on the way home from Indy, about how this is one of the stupidest refreshment services I ever encounter. People might argue that they're free but I just paid a fortune in airfare no they aren't free they're calculated into the cost I can guarantee you that. So I'm PAYING for micro-pretzels. Nano-pretzels, if you will.

I think a huge problem with my level of dismay would be best stated as the complete lack of satisfaction they provide AS a snack. If someone had set out a huge tray of cheese and sliced a cheese cube in half and gave that to you, that's what eating these pretzels is like. It could be good, but it's just....eh.

Part of this whole "these don't satisfy anyone" may simply be due to the huge calorie deficit they represent.

Delta Airlines - Biscoff Cookies (2-pack)

Calories	120	Sodium
Total Fat	5 g	Potassium
Saturated	2 g	Total Carbs
Polyunsaturated	0 g	Dietary Fiber
Monounsaturated	0 g	Sugars

Biscoff cookies come to the table with 120 calories and a bit of fat. They aren't a meal but generally I land after a couple of hours and I'm not going to die if I don't eat soon. In fact there were plenty of instances where I didn't get to eat for hours (mostly due to other people being quite rude) and Biscoff cookies kept me alive, like some sweet delicious foreign hard-tack . 

Mini-Pretzels though? 

Calories	45	Sodium
Total Fat	1 g	Potassium
Saturated	0 g	Total Carbs
Polyunsaturated	0 g	Dietary Fiber
Monounsaturated	0 g	Sugars

This is the sort of snack that people who say things like "Oh dear I forgot to eat today" might consider a real snack. This is the devil's work, in snack form.

It's complete bullshit. That's what it is.

Luckily I was wise on my outgoing flight and ingested a chicken biscuit and a sweet tea because it's Atlanta, so when I landed in Indy I wasn't ready to eat the entire city. But on my return flight there were delays, there was so much WALKING, there was construction, there was nothing but annoyance on my sojourn north and I had no choice but to slam a bunch of popcorn chicken, fries and a peanut butter and chocolate shake from Sonic.

I hope you are happy with yourself, Delta.

The True Story of How I Ate My Way Through Las Vegas...or 8 Pounds Later

I think the fact that we started off with a chocolate tasting pretty much set the tone for our trip. "Would like you to have a chocolate tasting while we get your table ready?" Despite the fact that this was an OBVIOUS stall tactic as the place was mostly empty, so clearly the servers were just bickering over who was taking us but REGARDLESS - CHOCOLATE TASTING!!

It was Michele's birthday and who were we mortals to turn down a chocolate tasting? NO one, that's who! So we started off with a chocolate tasting of single source local friendly whatever else I'm supposed to say that indicates that no indigenous people were deprived of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness to obtain it. After that we floated, high on whatever it is in chocolate that makes all right with your world, to our table for various appetizers and drinks to celebrate my arrival and Michele's birthday. Her friend Candy joined us and it was a lovely evening of calories and visiting.

The next day was a fancy lunch at a buffet featuring foods from the regions of France. The food was delicious. The dessert was divine.

I always wanted to try macarons. I've never seen them anywhere that they weren't about $3 A PIECE and honestly I hated the idea of wasting that much money on something so small. Now of course I have learned that it wouldn't have been a waste. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INVESTMENT IN HAPPINESS.

Because wow were they good. The creme brulee wasn't carmelized enough. I give it a B.

For dinner we tried Gordon Ramsay's Steak and I have to admit I'm far too unsophisticated of a palette to really appreciate food that costs that much money. This is a wheel of steak choices. Each one is more expensive than the next. It's all still made of cow, however.

This was my steak. It was pretty good. I mean, it was steak. It was tender and juicy and good. I'm not sure it was the demi-god of steaks, however. I'm not even sure it had super powers.

But based on the bill - it should have. That's all I'm saying.

Lunch the next day was at a place called Mon Ami Gabi and once again, French food. I can tell you it was amazing and delicious and, so cheese, so meat, so good. It was like dinner and a show however thanks to these guys.

This guy had a bullhorn and really had a lot to say but I personally found that he lacked passion. I didn't see the crazy in his eyes. He was just sort of blathering as he walked. It was entertaining, however.

That evening was cocktails and appetizers at one of THE destinations in Vegas, it was a work event so we had to behave.

I had to grab a picture from Google just to show you how amazing this location was.

It looks out over the strip and as the sun set the show of lights was AMAZING. They served cocktails and appetizers, which included lots of things but my favorites were the peanut chicken AND - the braised beef spareribs, served in thimbles.

I only had two of them. That can't be THAT many calories, right?

After we wrapped up that event however it was time to actually go out and eat, so I met up with my brother and work friends and we hit the town.

Harley Davidson on the strip does NOT have the best barbecue in Vegas THAT was a lie. They do have good blue drinks however, so it evens out in my book. Of course after dinner we needed to get dessert. I'd promised Scott we'd go Holstein's because according to YELP they have the best milkshakes in Vegas.

I had a birthday cake shake and I do admit, it was pretty good. I feel like it was an A in shake world but I also think Steak N Shake is an A in the shake world so this isn't necessarily a huge upgrade from my normal shakes available in life. It was fun though. We also got to see a dude with the drawers down to his knees hitting on a pro. I didn't get a clear picture of it. But it was funny.

My trip started the way it ended, with my friend Michele which honestly was awesome. She was going to take me to the airport but first we headed down to Fremont to show me old Vegas and get some lunch. We went to that classic, the Golden Nugget and had some buffet which was not as fancy as the French one but I'm positive no less calories. We toasted our friend Renee, who was the third of our lunch bunch. She is sadly missed by us, it was one of those times she should've been with us, laughing and eating and gossiping. That won't ever happen again, but I'm glad we were able to toast to her together and remember her.

We were having mimosas, and toasting our friend who drank herself to death. She'd actually have probably thought that was funny. We had the thought, "this is probably in bad taste" but we quickly gave it the meh, whatever because that's how we roll.

Like it or lump it, Renee. If you don't like it, you shoulda been there to tell us so.

This story doesn't include breakfast, which occurred each day. It was at the boulangerie and it was so damn good.

It doesn't include snacks on the plane each way. It doesn't include cocktails. There were cocktails Many many many cocktails.

The end result despite WAY over 10 k steps walked every day was pretty frustrating. I wasn't keeping track of what I ate, so even though I KNEW there was no way I was even close to making up my intake well, let's face it - I didn't stop because I didn't care.

So here I am. It's 8 pound heavier and now I have to take it off. Which is fine, because honestly when in Rome (or Paris). I'm a little annoyed at myself and yet, I'm mostly not. It was fun. I hate the way in I look in the photos but I don't know that I ever will like the way I look so I've decided not to care and to crop out the bits I hate the most (above, totally did).

And now I'm muscle sore from the total gym and requesting curly fries for dinner.

You can take the fat girl out of the....oh wait.

No, you just can't.

Oh well, I'll get there.
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