I’ve had these recurring nightmares throughout my life:
- Showing up to school on a holiday and having the teacher make me stay – sometimes I show up without clothes, but that’s always on a regular school day, when I can feel the utter horror.
- Sailing off the end of a bridge or cliff.
- Showing up a day too late for a flight.
All the self-help gurus talk about making your dreams a reality. So maybe I got this half right …
Pretty much the only thing keeping us on a schedule has been that I booked a flight for my daughter to meet us in L.A. during her semester break. We have been basing all our decisions on getting to Anaheim to check in to our campground on the 25th and then pick her up on the 26th.
Yesterday she called me. “Dad says my flight is leaving on Friday, not Saturday. I know he’s wrong, but can you double check?”
I laughed, “I am so sure …” (Famous last words of the foolish) “…that it’s Saturday, but I’ll check.”
Lalala … logging in …. dadada … bringing up the itinerary … “Yep, there it is, you’re leaving on the 25th … wait … Friday the 25th! ohmygawd!”
“WHAT?!” she responded, aghast. “I have to work tomorrow! I have to wash my clothes! I have to pack! What am I gonna do?”
“Ummm I don’t know. Call your work, wash your clothes, pack?” my sarcasm sliding in “Well, honestly, wow, I’m so sorry I messed that up. Man, we’re so lucky your father caught that.”
I can just imagine how horrible it would have been to figure out this evening when I went to check in, to find out I’d made her miss her flight. I’ve never done that before. I even re-checked the booking the other day, and didn’t notice it at all. It would have cost me a lot more to rebook her, and I don’t want to think about the stress it would have caused. *phew* That was a close one.
We’re sitting in a big gravel lot behind the Fantasy Springs Casino in Indio. We moved here on Wednesday, so we’d be closer to Palm Springs. That night we went into the Casino to get a players card. They gave us $10 off at the restaurants, $10 free slot play, and a T-shirt! Exciting! Harold is dancing around in the trailer wearing his, right as I type this.
We spent our $10 at the buffet, where I was so happy to see so many Pescatarian options, then went off to use our $10 free slot play. In this casino, you have to play $10 in order to get your free play, you can’t use your free play on video poker, and while you can play video poker to get the free play, you have to spend more because VP gives less points per dollar put through.
So we wandered the casino looking for a slot machine that looked fun, but all the fun machines were progressives – where the value of the jackpot increases a small amount each game until it’s won by someone – and of course, we also couldn’t play the progressives to get our free play. We eventually just shrugged our shoulders, sat down at the closest machine and played our money. At the end of the night, I was down $10, and Harold was up $12.45, so we made over 2 bucks! Woohoo! But we don’t have a clue how … the stupid slot machines have so many lines and so many ways to win, it’s a real pain to see how you’re gonna win or lose. We really don’t like slots.
Thursday night we drove up to Palm Springs. I’ve been here twice before. Harold has never been. I purposely planned to be there on Thursday as that’s the night of VillageFest, a street fair featuring arts, crafts, food, and entertainment. It runs about 4 long blocks and is made up of food stalls, produce and bread stands, and artisan products as well as on-street entertainment, spread out nicely so they don’t interfere with each other’s sounds.
The entertainment was diverse. Up outside the Hyatt Palm Springs, there is a bar, with lounge singers. On the way in, there was a Dean Martin style singer and when we came back he was paired up with a Patti Labelle style singer. It seemed very obvious they’d never sung together before. They both had good voices, but they were at odds with eachother. It was a train wreck. I was surprised the audience stayed to listen.
A block down there was a John Mayer type of singer. His songs were all of the angsty type. On our way back, there was a group of young girls dancing and swaying in front of him, all googoo eyed for him.
There was a steel drum band, with a singer with a beautiful voice. I kept scanning all their faces to find the singer before realizing he was on the video. The music was real, the voice was taped. Weird. The last guy was playing an electric guitar Flamenco-style. He was quite talented and attracted a large group.
We didn’t see anything we wanted to buy except for these big, beautiful, tasty strawberries, and some Medjool dates. The date palms can be seen all over Indio and I have been meaning to buy some the last few days. I love them in salads. When it came to the bread, we couldn’t believe how much of it was Gluten free, to a ridiculous degree. We had to really look to find a loaf WITH Gluten. Celiacs rejoice! You’ve won Palm Springs!
When it came time to find a restaurant, we had a huge selection, but settled on Lulu California Bistro. It not only had a cool, interesting vibe, but a great vegetarian and seafood menu, with at least three items that interested me. They also have a nice looking Gluten-free menu, but we’re all about the Gluten! I ordered Lobster Ravioli and Harold had the Ahi Tuna Tartar. In hindsight, I wish I’d had the Quinoa Stuffed Acorn Squash (filled with quinoa, spinach, roasted peppers, corn, figs, almonds and orange fig sauce). My ravioli was okay, and I really didn’t like Harold’s tuna. He liked it more than I did. I’m pretty particular about Ahi Tuna, and really just enjoy it seared, not tartared.
The waiter kept touching us. I know it’s a technique used by people to connect with others, but Harold and I are kinda uncomfortable with strangers touching us so much. He was a very good looking and personable young man — but still, don’t touch me, please!
After dinner, we wandered into a pet store where the proprietor forced us to take some samples of raw food. She wouldn’t listen to us when we told her one of our dogs has a real problem with foods that are too nutrient dense.
“Our dog can’t handle high protein.” I said.
“Our raw food is unlike all the others. It has much lower protein and lots of vegetables.” She responded.
“Oh no, our dog can’t eat vegetables.” I explained.
“But you can’t see them, they’re all chopped up!”
They’re what? Chopped up? We don’t have a picky dog who won’t eat his greens. We have a dog who gets ill when he’s fed vegetables or too much protein. What sort of dog goes by food looks? Obviously, going by this woman’s diatribe, the Palm Springs kind.
“Oh you have him on prescription food I’m sure! Horrible vet stuff!”
It just ended up being easier to take the samples. We’ll feed them to Toonie who can eat anything. Teddy needs his fillers.