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The last day of the trip, but not the last day of break.  There will probably also be a post with random anecdotes/comments that didn’t make it into the corpus, but that will have to wait until tomorrow later today, because I am also supposed to tidy my room.  Right.

Day 4: On the road again

(That’s from a song.  I think.)

First order of the day, Jon is cranky, because he couldn’t sleep the night before.  Family unrest.  Soothed by brunch buffet.  Oh dear.  The little boy at the next table blows bubbles in his milk, then stabs them with his knife.    When I laugh, the mom says, “Look, the lady is crying because you’re making a mess!”  And he responded, “No!  She’s laughing!”  So, I told her he was cute, and she instructed him to thank me.  Which he did.  Awww.  “It’s hard when you’re outnumbered,” she said (there was also an older brother, probably in middle school).

Today, Cindy is a driving beast.  Oh!  Made liberal use of the cruise control, which I only just discovered yesterday.  Hurray!

While I doubt anyone has this on RSS feed (none of my musings are really worth it…particularly that Yahoo! 360° experiment that is probably still flying in Justin’s radar), these are really coming out fast, huh?  Chalk it up to avoidance of room-tidying.  Yes, tidying.  I maintain that my room/its contents are in disarray, not dirt.

Day 3: Vomitar

Trouble in paradise.  Lee Mama is ill.  Sadly, we must adventure without her.  So, Lee Mama stays in the car by the Shrine of the Ages, and Lee Papa, Jon, and I catch the Blue Shuttle from Yavapai Observation Point, from which we transfer to the Red Shuttle.  PS, all these shuttles run on cleaner-burning fuels.  It says so, right on the side, as well as on the map, which also served up this informative little factoid: most of Arizona does not do Daylight Savings Time, so during this part of the year, it’s on the same clock as California and Nevada.  So, although I traveled over 1,000 miles (I think.  I’ll return with more specific numbers.) and crossed two state lines twice each, I never once had to change my watch–and my phone did not reset itself (WHICH IT CAN DO!  Isn’t technology amazing?  Although it didn’t do so until about 7:00 this most recent Spring Forward event.  Oh, something else it can do…ring an alarm without being on!  CRAZY!) during the entire voyage.

We go to Hermit’s Rest.  I sit in the very chair that might have once also welcomed Theodore Roosevelt’s behind.  Maybe.  It wasn’t labeled.  So I won’t libel.  (Ha.)  Why are there no descriptions of the beautiful scenery?  Because, again, my verbosity pales in view of the Grand Canyon experience.  I hope someday to wend my way around the globe, but every now and then, there are these reminders that within our own vast borders, beauty– that knock-out-anvil-on-my-heart-wind-at-my-back kind of spectacle– is.

After sleeping in the car all morning, Lee Mama feels better.  Hurray!  I use the facilities before we set off.  Um.  The little girl in the stall before me did.  not.  flush.  And, because you asked (not), it was #2.  I’m not talking about a freakin’ pencil!

Drive back to Las Vegas.  No debauchery.  So, I make further nuisance of myself by watching “Dancing with the Stars.”  Hurray!  Successful in recognizing only a few of the stars, but that’s okay.  Am unfortunately inconsiderate of Jon’s feelings by watching The Wedding Planner late into the night.  Don’t judge.

Shall we?

Day 2: Who needs the Internet when you’ve got nature?

There were free prints I wanted to use on Shutterfly.  Alas, there is no Internet.  What does the American Southwest use, then?  Who knows.  Probably pixie dust.  (While we’re linking to Sports Illustrated, here is something completely unrelated, but much more important.)

And so, onwards we drive.  Williams, AZ.  There’s a Safeway across from our lodgings.  Yes, Safeway.  Not Von’s, some of which we passed by in soCal.  Oh, and not Albertson’s, either, which has reverted to Lucky here in the Yay, but apparently not so in Santa Barbara and Las Vegas.  The Lee family chooses not to heed Cindy’s food advisements in purchasing provisions here, paving the way to further unhealthy eating (post, again, to come.  Yes, it merits its own post.  No joke.) throughout the remainder of the trip.

What can be said about the Grand Canyon?  As MTME (Marquardt-the-male, elder) pointed out, pictures are inadequate.  And because I haven’t uploaded them yet, (relax!  I got home five hours ago, and there have been other pressing issues) my even more insufficient words will have to do for now.  We drove in through the South Entrance, and serendipitously stumbled upon the perfect launching point for a foray during the half-day we had left.

We parked by Mather Point, took in the sight, then proceeded to the Visitor Center and caught the Green Shuttle to Yaki Point.  Wow.  Yes.  There was walking.  (Unfortunately, the 1 mile that was trekked in no way excuses the unhealthy eating.  Still gorgeous.)  As we left, our heads were full of plans for the next day.

Upon our return to Williams, I made a nuisance of myself and watched the latter part of Love and Basketball.  It’s love!  And basketball!  What could be better?

Upcoming: Debauchery!  Well, no.  Not really.  But, keep reading for details about Sin City.

For the first time since I started college, my spring break week coincided with both that of my best friend and my brother.  All the other UCs have spring break after their Winter Quarter finals, but because we’re on the semester system, we jump on the bandwagon and have ours when they do.  Why, then, is this the first time Allie and I have had the same break?  Davis does things differently…but they’re changing.  And why do I have the same break as Jon?  Our high school, as with many across the nation, sets spring break to be Good Friday and the subsequent week, which happened this year to be the end of Winter Quarter finals.  Spectacular.  And so, the Lee family set off on an excursion to the Grand Canyon.

Day 1: Why I want to be fabulously wealthy

Having planned to leave at 9, we actually depart at 10.  I had more time than expected to pack, though, because I didn’t go to the city for the Pop Candy meet-up the night before.  But, because I didn’t go to the city, I was cranky.  Should have escaped to New York, I thought.

Much driving.  580 -> I-5.  Partway down I-5, I took over the driving duties.  Then, I missed the exit for HWY 46.  Never you mind, the next several exits all offer paths to Las Vegas, our destination for the day.  Drive drive drive.  Geez, it’s dry down south.  (Har dee har har.  Did inappropriate thoughts just flood your mind?  Mine, too.)

Arrive in Las Vegas.  It’s incredible, n’est-ce pas, that such a bouquet of fantastical creations would arise in the middle of the desert?  It’s difficult to turn into the driveway for the hotel, as crowds stream by on both sides of the Strip.  Really, the scene is like Saturday night in Berkeley, but with warmer weather: unabashed jaywalking (no, Pri, not walking like an Egyptian), girls swathed in flashy bits of fabric (or was it the fabric that was flashing the bits?), guys really bro-ing it up, &c.  Finally, some gentle pedestrians let us through (I bet they were Midwestern–you can ho it up, but you can’t conceal the wholesome!), I parked the behemoth (not really, but Sandra Bullock’s comment kept running through my head), we checked in, and I explored the hotel room.  There were separate face and body soaps, a shower cap, shampoo, conditioner, and lotion, all of which I ought to have contributed to a worthy cause, but did not, because I had not packed my own.  Je m’excuse

On to the reading material.  Blah blah blah.  Food?  No.  All buffets.  (Stay tuned for the full run-down of unhealthy eating!)  Hm.  Matt Damon is featured on the cover of one of the publications.  Oookay.  Fine actor, upstanding citizen, but you know, I’ve always found Ben Affleck much more attractive.  *shrug*  Oh hey, the two of them played in a Celebrity Poker Tournament.  Possibly to raise money for Darfur.  But that’s kind of George Clooney’s cause.  Why wasn’t he in it?  Oh, because he can’t gamble.  Amusing anecdote about how he fails at poker, blackjack, &c., that reiterates just how fun it must be to kick it with them.

 And, without further ado, my aspirations…

Someday, I hope to make a lot of money.  Why?  So that, when George Clooney is persuaded to partake in a suitably liberal function, I can buy dinner with him.  Is that so wrong?