Bar(r)e Nekkid

I’ve been sorta in denial about this business trip. I booked it late enough that I got yelled at by Corporate for not booking at least 8 days in advance. So after rubbing elbows* on the plane with highly important people, I was even less skeptical about how much fun this trip was going to be. As my final flight is landing I pull out my itinerary again and this time look at the hotel page.

As I mentioned, I booked my travel myself. But other than the flight being into the right city and at times I prefer (given that I have to go at all) I didn’t really pay much attention to picking out the rental car or the hotel. I called the 2 hotels recommended by the client I’m visiting and found out they were booked, so I did a zip code search. But there were no hotels in the zip code my client is in, so I chose one about 10 miles from the office address. At this moment I notice I am staying in the town of Barre.

Barre? Like as in ‘Bare’ without the extra ‘R’? Is it worth examining my feelings to determine how I feel about a business trip to a town named after being nekkid? I am pro-nekkid, for sure, but haven’t I heard that one should “never mix business and pleasure”?

I get to Bar(r)e and take a right, as per my instructions, on what looks to be the only major street. I am feeling pretty good as I see this is N Main Street and my directions also say to find the hotel at 173 S Main Street. I see couples out strolling and eating ice cream cones. I glance at the clock on the car, but it confirms what I already know – it’s almost midnight. Then I wonder what time zone my car is from (since it clearly wasn’t cleaned on the inside – gross, gross, gross – they probably didn’t reset the clock). But my cell phone (which has decided to jump back in with the “in crowd” and auto-update it’s time zone when it changes on) says it’s 11:52pm as well.

Wait, what the? This is Washington Street! I was clearly on N Main Street and I didn’t make a turn. I wonder if I am going north instead of south.

I have no idea since it’s pitch black and I gather there are trees everywhere and no one believes in leaving store signs on or putting street lights on streets here. So I make a U-turn and drive all the way back to where I started and a little further. But that side of N Main Street has a different street name as well. So I stop at a gas station for directions. (Finally! Something open after midnight is this place!) I instantly love the woman cashier purely because she knows where the glorious Days Inn Barre is. Her directions are priceless and I think I love her even more:
- Go back the way you came
- At the statue of the naked man veer right (if you keep going straight you fall off Main Street)
- Go through 3 lights and up a hill
- When you run into a brick wall, turn right – that’s the Days Inn.

Check -– naked guy, uphill, brick wall, motel! How fitting that the town of Bar(r)e has a naked man statue for a landmark. (For the record I saw the statue, but didn’t realize it was nekkid until she pointed it out.)

I find the motel with no issues (really, how could I not with those directions?). But since I’ve had the audacity to arrive after 11pm at night, when clearly all good people are strolling around outside eating ice cream, my room keys are taped to the office door. Holy Moley! In any other place I’ve been I think there’d be either
.....(a) a serial killer in my room
.....(b) a dead body in my room
.....(c) cameras hidden in my room
Or at least
.....(d) a party in my room
by now. I am vaguely amazed to find none of these, but to be honest, I didn’t even check for (c) so if you see nekkid pix of me on the web that’s where they come from.

Today as I was leaving the office, I asked my client, “So how do you say this?” and show them the name of the town.

“Bear-ee.”

As in White? Manilow? Rasp-? That pronunciation never even occurred to me. I am sure this says something embarrassing about my psyche…sigh.


* Why do I never get seated next to women? Why is it that the men I seem to sit next to assume that because their shoulders are broader they have the rights to the armrests? Why did I not remember that I find it creepy when the shirt of the random guy next to me tickles my arm? Why did I not wear long sleeves? Why am I so grumpy?

Memory Rocks but Diamonds Suck

Iggy and I went stayed a night at The Stanley Hotel last weekend. It's supposedly the inspiration for Stephen King's book The Shining (even though the intro in the book expressly says it isn't) and the indoor hotel scenes from Dumb and Dumber were filmed there. It's a nifty old hotel, and I would recommend staying if you like that sort of thing.

While you're there, if you want to watch the movie version with Jack Nicholson, The Shining plays in a continuous loop on channel 42 (I think). So apparently I am not the first person with the idea of staying there and watching the movie to see if it creeps me out...and made bringing along the portable DVD player superfluous.

We arrived at the hotel just as the last ghost tour was leaving for the day. We had the option (at 5x the price) to go on the nightly ghost hunt, but alas, we had dinner reservations. So we opted for the ghost tour after a leisurely brunch the next morning.

I learned some interesting things:

• There are different kinds of hauntings. Residual hauntings are like movies played back and don't interact with you. Interactive hauntings can...well...interact with you.


• Ghosts show up as orbs of light on pictures.


• Certain rocks or geologic formations are conducive to residual hauntings. Of course, The Stanley sits on 4 of the best rocks for this. And it has no formal foundation to get in the way, so the rocks touch the building giving the building even more ... receptiveness? ... to residual replays.


• Certain energy (notably magnetic fields) increase the ability of hauntings to present themselves. This is why when F.O. Stanley built his own generator, the place was double primed to receive paranormal activity.


• Lucky for the current owners, The Stanley was a vacation spot. Thus, there are only happy ghosts there because the people who were staying there were rich, happy, and banished the kids to the 4th floor for their entire stay. What better way to relax and party? If I were the current owners, I would blame everything that went wrong on the happy ghosts playing a prank and charge you more for the experience.
  
  You only have cold water? That must be Matilda! She used to do that to the governor when he stayed just to get a rise out of him. I'll check with maintenance, but I bet there's plenty of hot water still for everyone.
  
  You kept hearing knocking on your window? Really?!? Aren't you lucky! That's our most elusive ghost - Hank! He was one of the summer help and he loved to do that on the night of the summer bonfire after all the guests had gone to sleep -- of course he told his ghost story at the bonfire so the guests were subconsciously thinking of ghosts! Isn't that funny -- a ghost of a young lad pretending to be a ghost?

I made up the Matilda and Hank stories, but that rest of that is the truth! If I got some of the other (more serious) details wrong, I apologize; I wasn't taking notes. I was just along for the ride and now can't get the idea of rocks with memories of ghosts out of my head. This made me remember way, way, way back when I was a poor undergrad with no cash and working part-time at a book store. I came across a book that actually said diamonds attract negative feelings. I remember thinking "I knew there was a reason I didn't like diamonds" -- which, if nothing else, sets me apart from 90% of all my female contemporaries. (And 76% of statistics are made up on the spot, right?)

I tried to find that folk lore about diamonds attracting negative energy on the web too. But wouldn't you know that most stuff on the web says that diamonds have good qualities??? But I did find this:

The Hindus believed that a flawed diamond, or one containing specks or spots, was so unlucky that it could even deprive Indra of his highest heaven. The original shape of the stone was also considered of great importance, more especially in early times, when but few, if any, diamonds, were cut. A triangular stone was said to cause quarrels, a square diamond inspired the wearer with vague terrors; a five-cornered stone had the worst effect of all, for it brought death; only the six-cornered diamond was productive of good.

~ The Curious Lore of Precious Stones, George Fredrick Kunz

So at least certain shapes of diamonds are bad luck (be careful when you pick out your engagement ring - no one wants to be deprived of heaven or inherit quarrels, terrors, or gasp! death)! Then I hit pay-dirt on Amazon.com -- this is actually from that book I found back in the early 1990s!

When you hold a diamond, it can feel cold to your touch. This is because of the high thermal conductivity, whereupon it can suck into itself the warmth of your body. It possesses a high psychic energy as well and can easily magnetize into it radiant fields thoughts and actions. Due to this great absorption power, you should clean your diamonds often to rid them of any negative energies that they might have taken in. Soak your diamond for at least an hour in an ionic solution of a teaspoon of salt and a teaspoon of baking soda, dissolved in eight ounces of water. Rinse well. Your diamond will feel better and shine brighter.

~ Stone Power, Dorothee Mella, p.84

But how often do I need to clean my diamonds? I also like the use of big words like "conductivity" and "whereupon" followed closely by the ultra-technical "suck into itself".

Anyways...I want to believe in ghosts and rocks with memory and that certain minerals/gems/items have power to help me through my day. Or that, like Patrick Roy, stepping over the red and blue lines on the ice helps me play better. Really, I do.


~~~~~
I did some other web surfing on the interesting things I heard on the tour. In case you're interested:
o Orbs are just dust spots on your camera lens Personally I am disappointed with that article. While I don't want to be like the fanatical guy on our tour who kept talking about all the ghost tours he'd been on and the strange things he personally had experienced, I like the idea of ghosts being orbs of light. And even better if they show up on pictures that way. (Admittedly, the fanatical guy did make me interested in going on a ghost tour next time I'm in Las Vegas.)
o Stanley Hotel - Ghost Hunters video
o Geology and Ghosts

Hyjacked Lyrics

I got gnats in my cleavage
what am I gonna do
I'm gonna get those gnats
That's wot I'm gonna do

I LOVE that UB40 song!

~ from an email from Calle that made me laugh out loud

How Many Calories in a Gnat?

I'm wondering because I think I might've consumed half the Gnat Population in the State of Colorado on my bike ride today. Before you scold me for breathing through my mouth, let me just say I really do try to remember to use my nose. It's just that for, say, 30 years before I figured out that daily prescription allergy medication actually let me breathe like "normal" people I had developed this habit. It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, I tell you!

I also remembered why I like to zip up my bike jersey to the very tippy-toppy zipper tooth today too. If I had done that, a small colony of the remaining Gnats of Colorado wouldn't have set up residence in that little valley on my upper front torso (you know -- between the ...cough! er, ahem, well, the ta-ta's). You would think I would remember this lesson after last summer's wasp incident.

Let me digress for a moment. Indulge me, please. As much as I like to pretend that I am a tomboy, truthfully I am a girly-girl. I used to have the honor of living with two Alaskan Malamutes. One was quite the mighty huntress. Once she dove through the snow while we were snowshoeing and came up with a live chipmunk/pika/small-moutain-squirrel thing. Another time she came in from the back yard with her very own deceased ground hog (apparently the TOY groundhog I bought her was insufficient for entertainment). Both times I instinctively let out this high-pitched shriek and both times the dog dropped what was in her mouth and looked at me like "what? you don't like what I brought you for dinner?" She was very put out with me and gave me the cold shoulder for a while each time. These aren't the only times it happened, but for some reason I remember those the best.

Back to last summer. I was mountain biking with a friend up Waterton Canyon. He was behind me on the trail as we were descending back to the start/parking lot. I saw a wasp just as it got sucked into that valley I mentioned earlier. Here's how I remember that incident:

Ohmigod! A Wasp!
Maybe it will fly out! No! Oh NO! Oh @#$#$-@*^%$!!! It's stuck in my sportsbra! WHAT IF IT STINGS ME THERE? Ewwww! Get it out!
EEE-ee-EEEEE-E-E-eeeeeeee! All while gently slamming on the brakes because I was aware I was on a gravel patch and I didn't want both a wasp sting and road rash. After a decent stop where the bike falls to the ground as I leap off and simultaneously rip my jersey off, I start tugging at my sportsbra unconcerned if anyone gets a free show. Luckily before I'm done with this little strip-tease move the wasp manages to fly out before dislodging his stinger. My virtue (if not my dignity) remains intact.

Here's how my friend remembers that incident:

You did make a rather sudden stop and ripped off your shirt like that soccer chick. But I didn't hear you scream. You seemed very calm and methodical. Like "oh, so hey, there's this little bug in my shirt." Not like "YIKES! THERE'S SOMETHING WITH A STINGER NEXT TO MY BOOBS!"

So, from this I must conclude that only dogs can hear me scream. I knew my voice was high. Remember that I have a job where I work from home? Most people ever only talk to me on the phone. There's usually a point where they figure out that I'm almost 40 and are surprised. I assume this is because I sound younger (and not because I act immature)... But I had no idea that when I revert to that primeval girly reaction it went out of human hearing range.

But wouldn't you think that after that trauma I would remember to zip up my jersey? I'm a slow learner.

And at any rate -- how do I count the gnats in my diet? I am sure they're a delicacy somewhere. Or for iguanas or frogs.

I Bring the Sunshine!

Over Memorial Day weekend Iggy and I went out to Seattle - our first trip together. It went really well. Thankfully he's a bit like me, or at least he's willing to humor me in terms of travel. I like to have three things when I travel:

1. plane tickets to/from home/destination
2. hotel while at destination
3. (optional) a car -- if you can get by without this, so much for the better, IMHO

So a week of winging it on vacation! I love it!

We did some touristy stuff:

• walked around the Space Needle
• saw the International Fountain (very cool)
• browsed the festival near the fountain and Space Needle -- and subjected ourselves to some odd campaign about "Free Hugs" (some girl won a bet because we both hugged her)
• bought salmon at the Pike Market and had it grilled for dinner
• rode the Monorail (which required Iggy to sing the Simpson's Monorail song -- I need to see that episode)
• went on the Underground tour took a ferry to Bainbrigde Island for brunch
  

Space Needle


Buying Salmon at Pike Market


International Fountain

And we met up with some friends: (1) an old work colleague of mine who showed us the MicroSoft Visitor's Center (very cool even if you're not an MS Corp fan -- I really want that surface computing technology on my laptop) and her fiance, (2) a friend of Iggy's from college and (3) a friend of Iggy's from high school.

We also went to Unicorn Crepes and had a Chili Cheese Dog Crepe and a Pizza Crepe! Bet you've never had one of those! (They were quite tasty, if a bit messy.)

I could totally live in Seattle. However, it may be an unfair judgement since the 5 days I was there were sunny. In fact, the 10 days I was in NZ were sunny too. The day I left it rained in NZ. And continued raining for 2 weeks. So My new theory is that I bring the sunshine! heehee