mmm, buffet!

Continuing on the annual BJAMN (I just made that up, but I like it. It's like Mad Gab for Blogger. Be Jammin ... you know?) trips, Vegas 08!! We added a couple players, Terri & Joe. I can't change the name of the trip(s) though, because T & J don't add a whole lot to the BJAMN name I've previously devised.

So we're staying in a hotel off the strip, in a time-share that Mia's mom lovingly let us borrow for the week. The hotel offers a free shuttle to Harrah's, where the monorail runs. The monorail is genius. Those hotels all look close together, but believe me, it's a hike to even get through one hotel. We learned our lesson the hard way. We took the monorail to the Hilton, where we were going to see (and hopefully participate in) the $250,000 Game Show Spectacular ... a game show experience combining the Newlywed Game, Name that Tune, the Dating Game, and a variety of other game shows. The plan was to get to the Hilton early, buy tickets, grab some lunch, and then wait in line for the show, where we'd inevitably be chosen to participate and win thousands of dollars. It didn't go exactly as planned.


We arrive at the Hilton, walk inside, and find a listing of all the restaurants. We decide we're going to go to some little cafe there, but when we ask for a table they inform us that their restaurant is having a water problem, so they can't seat us. Walking to the other end of the hotel, we're told by the buffet people that they, too, are having a water problem and cannot seat us either. It would have been nice of the cafe people to tell us that BEFORE we walked through the entire hotel twice, but whatever, right?

So we have about 1 hour before we want to get in line at the Game Show Spectacular. And we're ALL hungry. So we decide to go to the closest hotel for food. And that happens to be the Sahara. Joe decides it'd be faster to walk, as the monorail only comes every 10 minutes or so. And SURELY we can get to the Sahara faster than waiting for the monorail. So we start walking. 25 minutes later we finally get to the Sahara. (have I mentioned that i don't mind walking ... in comfortable shoes, cool weather, with plenty of time to spare? well i had none of those, so I wasn't happy to be walking).


The only thing that even seems edible at the Sahara is the buffet, which we run to, since we have approximately 15 minutes to eat if we're going to get back in time. We run in, pay for our buffet, and get down to business filling our plates with food that now seems less than appetizing. However, we're hungry and it's going to be a while before we get another chance to eat. Plus, we just paid $15 to get in the door. That's about a dollar a minute. Worth it? You decide.

The buffets in Vegas are big. Lots of different places to go for food. We all split up (speed walking) to different parts of the buffet and meet back at a round table to eat. I have seriously never seen 5 people eat so quickly. We had each grabbed 2 plates or so (saving time by not having to go back up for more) and brought them to the table. With no time for conversation, the only thing I can hear is the food review:

Aaron: I got a little of everything, anyone want to try this?
Terri: MMM, this Kraft Singles cheese sandwich on white bread with ketchup is delicious.
Mia: Everything I got is gross. I'm going to get some of what Nat has.
Joe: Mia, don't waste that food, I can't stand to see anyone throwing food away!

OK, so maybe that wasn't it exactly, but it was close. Within 10 minutes we had each made a few trips to the buffet, tried a little of everything (salads, entrees, bread, soup, desserts ... you name it), refilled drinks a couple times to wash everything down, and were walking back out the door.

My favorite part? All 5 of us were drinking on the way out of the buffet, leaving our half-full cups on the last table before we left. I wish I had a video of it.

Group Photos!

Josette read my last post and just didn't want you all to have to just imagine the group shot (or she didn't want you all to think I was lying!) ... so she sent some proof. Very attractive on all parts.

Photogramania

I have a couple posts that I want to write, but I can't do it until I figure out how to pull videos off my camera. So until then, this will have to do.

The game: Nauvoo 2007. The point was to go to Nauvoo, IL before Billy & Josette moved to Utah. Josette hadn't been before and it's really worth at least one trip in your lifetime. More than one might be pushing it.

The roster: Billy, Josette, Mia, Aaron, and me

How you win: Have lots and lots of fun in 3 days

And fun was had by all. We played "do you know where the temple is" (visit back for a dedicated post on this), tried blowing up a bottle of Diet Coke with Mentos (this will make it into it's own post as well), watched Aaron "talk" his way out of a ticket (in the police cruiser, asking about all the electronics, etc), and even met some young friends in the hot tub (who we continued to run into all weeked, as Nauvoo is about the size of my thumb).

We took pictures from just about every angle at the temple, easily the largest structure in Nauvoo, not to mention the most beautiful.

We decided to take some night shots of the front of the temple. And, as usual, there were no serious pictures taken.

It was all fun, seriously. But my favorite part of the picture taking was this night, at the temple. We were trying to fit all of us in one picture, which isn't easy to do when you're doing it "self-portrait" style. Apparently we had the camera on video mode, so while we were waiting for the flash, the camera was recording all of our idiocy. There's no picture, as it was dark outside, but the sound is hilarious.


the first try

the second try

We did, eventually, get a group photo, but of course I don't have it. This is close to what it looked like, just pretend Aaron & Billy were in it too.

All in all, it was a success. So much so, that we decided to make it an annual trip. The trip for the next year was decided at the end. Vegas '08!

Gum Balls of Fire

My family lived in Dillon, Montana for 2 years, plus or minus a few months. I lived in Dillon for 2 summers. The summer of 1999 was filled with work, sorting rock in the washplant at Barrett's Minerals (interesting? yes ... fun? no). I worked 12 hour shifts, from 3:00 to 3:00 (3pm-3am or 3am-3pm, depending on the week). 2 days on, 3 days off, 3 days on, 2 days off. When I wasn't working, I found myself either sleeping, trying to get to sleep, or trying to wake up.


The summer of 2000 was NOT filled with work. In fact, I didn't have any responsibilities at all. So, when the ward camp leader came to me and asked if I'd assist her at Girls Camp 2000, I was thrilled and accepted right away. I poured myself into helping plan meals, activities, lessons, songs, packing lists, skits, sleeping arrangements, etc. Girls Camp in Montana is not the sleep-in-a-cabin-eat-meals-prepared-by-a-cook Girls Camp of Michigan that I was used to. But, I figured the idea was the same: we'd be in a tent rather than a cabin, use an outhouse and a solar shower rather than indoor plumbing, and cook our meals over a fire instead of in a mess hall.

Wanting to be the "fun & cool" leader, I found a simple but fun thing to share with the girls all week ... Double Bubble. Hello, this is hours of entertainment packed in a 2 gallon bucket. How many of us haven't had fun with bubble blowing contests or playing "how many pieces can you fit in your mouth?" at 2:00 in the morning?

So off we went, to the rustic (at least for me) girls camp. Among other things, we always had a fire going at the camp. We had to use it to cook every meal and there was really no point in letting the fire die between meals. This actually worked out well because while the younger campers were off certifying in knot tying, compass reading, outdoor cooking, etc, the older campers (4th year campers who decided they weren't certifying in anything) would tend the fire.

This particular day, I was helping some of the younger campers with their certification in the area set aside for large group gatherings. I had forgotten something from the camp, so I walked back toward the tent. As I'm walking, I hear Stephanie & friends around the fire; telling stories & jokes, laughing, having a good time. Getting closer to the tent (and subsequently the fire), I suddenly feel something burning on my left hand. I bring my hand into view and I see what appears to be a piece of ash. I tried to brush it off with my right hand but, as I swipe at it, the black ashes smear into bright pink. Still burning my hand, I had to brush it harder to get the entire blob off my hand.

As it turns out, Stephanie and the other girls who were not certifying that day had decided to have a contest to see how many pieces of gum they could fit in their mouth at the same time. When this game proved to hurt their jaws, the pyro in them took over and they stuck their wads of gum on roasting sticks and held them over the fire. The gum mostly melted off, but in order to clean the stick off entirely, Stephanie had "roasted" her gum until it was black and dripping off the stick. She then began waving the stick in the air, back and forth so the gum would come off. And a tiny piece of that gum flew 50 yards and landed on my wrist.

Bingo Lingo

I really don't like Bingo. It's not that I mind the game so much (after all, how difficult is it to cover up a bunch of small squares with a piece of candy?), but I dislike winning bingo. Sure, in your head it seems great. All you have to do is listen for the number, cover that number up when it's called, and call out "BINGO!" when you've got 5 in a row. What they don't tell you is that when you do so, everyone else (even your friends) will turn and glare at you, since they were all just one number away from winning themselves. Then they'll watch you go up and claim your prize ... that prize that should have been theirs. And none of them clear their cards, secretly hoping that you covered a number in your winning row that wasn't actually called, meaning they have a chance after all.

And so it was, in March 2003, I found myself in this situation. Stephanie and I had bought a travel package including a week at an all-inclusive "resort" in Cancun, Mexico. We invited Jay & Aaron to go with us. The more the merrier, right? It was spring break time, meaning lots of college kids, lots of drinking, and a pool-side DJ every day ... complete with music, contests, and games. And you guessed it, Bingo. We were relaxing that day, spending a sunny day at the pool. So when the DJ announced that Bingo would be starting in 10 minutes, we went to get our cards.

With so few people playing (this is where the "resort" part starts to make sense, it was tiny and there were maybe 20 people playing), the odds that someone in our group would win were pretty good. They announce the prize (Strawberry Daiquiri in a giant yard glass) and start calling the numbers. I quickly cover a full row on my card but I don't want to announce my win for two reasons. 1: I hate the attention of winning and 2: I didn't want the prize. Jay sees my card, sees the completed winning row, and calls out "BINGO!" for me. (thanks Jay)

I go to claim my prize (or rather, hope to switch my prize for another ... they've been giving away T-shirts all morning long too). I took French in high school, I don't understand Spanish at all. So it comes as no surprise that I don't know what the DJ is saying into the microphone, asking for my name. At the same time, I'm asking him if I can switch the drink for a t-shirt instead. So everyone at the hotel hears:

DJ: "¿Cómo te llamas?"
Me: "t-shirt instead?"
DJ: (laughing, clapping, and in perfect English) "Let's hear it for T-shirt instead!"

The good news? I DID get a t-shirt for all of my embarassment. The bad news? Jay stole it.

Diaper Bed

It's October 2006. Sharla, Natalie, and Mia decide to take a long weekend and go to Provo, Utah for fun. We're staying in the Comfort Inn, Room 202. Since we have so many guests coming and going, we get 2 double beds and a roll away bed. While it's just the 3 of us, Mia and Sharla will each get a bed and Natalie will sleep on the roll away, lovingly named the diaper bed because EVERY time i moved, it sounded like I was wearing a super loud, plastic diaper.


This night, we happened to have 3 guests. Lindsay, Gina, and Brandon. With 6 people and only 1 bathroom in the room, I decide to go directly from the car to the bathroom in the lobby. I walk to the hotel room and am AMBUSHED by at least 4 people: they grab my arms & legs, throw me into the diaper bed, fold it up, and lock it closed.


This is not a new thing for us. Just a few hours earlier we did the same thing to Mia. We threw her in the bed, locked it up, and put her in the hallway. Not 1 minute later, she had wiggled her way out of the bed and come back to the room. Game over.

So I think, hey, this isn't so bad, I'll just let them have their fun. They'll put me in the hallway, and I'll wiggle out. However, as it usually goes, the 2nd time around, there are more genius ideas than the first time. I hear "let's put her in the elevator and press the down button!". I immediately imagine the horror of the elevator door opening in the lobby to some stunned guests, looking in to see me locked in the diaper bed. There is NO WAY I'm going to let that happen.


I start wiggling to get out of the bed. This does not go as well for me as it did for Mia. I tipped the diaper bed right on it's side. Still unable to unlatch the lock myself, I could only lay there laughing while my friends came running out of the room, cameras in hand, asking if it was "picture worthy". And picture-worthy it was.