Gator State Randoms

So Simon and I have moved back to Florida for the winter.  We’re going to be working at Cape Coral Hospital for our third winter in a row.  We’re excited to be back.  Florida is nice in the winter, although since Minnesota seems to be in some sort of freak heat-wave this winter, it’s really not much warmer here than up there...yet.  I have faith that Old Man Winter will remember Minnesota one of these days, although for the sake of my friends and family living there, I can only hope that you can go an entire winter without snow.  Well, maybe some snow for the fields...they need that.  

Simon and I are once again living with Ellen for the winter, our roommate from last year.  Instead of renting a townhouse, we’ve rented an entire house that sits on a boat canal in Cape Coral.  It’s a pretty sweet arrangement, if I do say so myself.  Our house has a pool and hot tub, but since we’re paying the electric bill this time around, we have yet to heat either of them.  We’ve heard that heating a pool/hot tub can run the electric bill upwards of $350, and we’re just too cheap for that...hahaha!  For those of you coming to visit, we can make an exception and heat them while you’re here.  The house itself is all right...it’s not as new or as nice as the townhouse that we rented last year, but that’s okay.  I’m pretty sure the owners of this place are elderly.  If the lightly garish wallpaper didn’t give that one way, the shower chair, commode, and walker certainly did.  Not that a person has to be elderly to use any of those items, but more often than not, being elderly is the case.  And how weird is that?  Were I an elderly/disabled person vacationing in Florida, I wouldn’t feel comfortable using someone else’s shower chair or commode.  That’s kinda gross.  Were I in dire straights and my only two options were to either soil myself or use someone else’s commode, I guess I would use the commode...maybe.  I’m glad that I don’t actually have to make that choice at the moment.  The house also had an elderly smell to it when we moved in...kinda like grandma’s house.  Not necessarily unpleasant, but just old smelling.  Unfortunately now the place just smells like dog.  My little ones are in need of a bath and here I sit, typing about how they stink up the place.  I’m such a responsible pet owner, yes?

Living on a canal in Florida definitely has its benefits.  Just last week we had a manatee and her baby hanging out just off of our dock.  So cool.  It’s amazing how mesmerized a person can get by watching a big, blubbery, moss covered, puggish-looking mammal come up for air.  And then go back down again.  The mom and the baby were taking turns surfacing, and we would squeal with delight every time they surfaced.  We’re pretty sure at point one of them let loose with about a minute-long fart.  As far as I know, there are no oxygen vents in the canal to cause that sort of bubbling.  No stink though, so that was good.  We also see fish, birds, and are hoping to see some dolphins.  Ellen’s boyfriend Fred lives on a canal just south of us, and he sees dolphins every now and then in his canal.  We’ve also heard that alligators, bull sharks, and the occasional salt water crocodile make their way into the canals, but we haven’t seen either of those yet...thank goodness!  Of course now I’m all paranoid about a chance encounter with one of those three scary beasts.  

Being an avid Yelp.com user, I’ve been a little disappointed to see that Yelp hasn’t quite caught on down here in Florida yet.  I don’t know if it’s because there isn’t much of a tech culture here, if the popularity of Yelp hasn’t made it down this way yet, or if it’s true that Yelp is more frequently used by younger people and this part of Florida is populated with mostly old people.  I guess it could be any number of reasons.  So I’ve taken it upon myself to leave reviews on Yelp for all the places that I visit.  Frequently my review is the first.

I’ve decided that there’s something about living in a warm, sunny place that makes a person want to sit out in the sun with a cold alcoholic beverage.  I guess that would explain why we see scores of retirees at the liquor store with carts full of alcohol.  Yes, you read that right...carts.  These people don’t mess around.  The other day Simon and I went to the Total Wine store which has the largest selection of beer, wine, and hard alcohol that I’ve ever seen, and we had to leave without buying anything because the place was so crammed with the AARP crowd stocking up on liquor.  It was absolutely insane.

You know what I find insanely annoying?  When people make a heart symbol with their hands.  I know you’ve seen it, because everyone from 3 years old to 90 years old is doing it these days.  I hate it.  I want to punch the TV, the computer screen, and the magazine when I see people doing it.  I have no idea why...it’s just one of those temper triggers.  First of all, if it’s not done correctly, it doesn’t even look like a heart, thereby making the offending finger puppet person look like an idiot (of course, I think they look like an idiot anyway just for attempting).  I get even more irate about when I see adults doing it.  It’s childish.  I about threw a Victoria’s Secret catalogue across the room the other day because a bunch of the models were doing it.  Again, I have no explanation for why it bothers me...it’s not hurting anyone, and it’s a purely innocent gesture.  I just don’t like it.  

Back in November Simon and I finally made the upgrade to iphones.  I know I had said that I was going to wait until Ol‘ Pink died before I got a new phone, but dangit that phone just would not die.  It still works, and it probably feels abandoned and neglected all sealed up in a ziplock bag, cast into a junk drawer in Minnesota.  Sorry Ol‘ Pink, I know that’s no way to treat something that’s actually worked longer than anyone ever thought.  So the iphone.  Part of our motivation for getting new phones before our old ones had died was for convenience.  Kind of like how we held off on getting a GPS for so long and were completely reliant on Mapquest, getting lost, and asking for directions.  Who knew a GPS could have made life easier (although our current GPS is borderline retarded).  Since we move around all the time, we frequently find ourselves in strange cities without the faintest clue where the nearest grocery store, gas station, Trader Joe’s, or LuluLemon happen to be (these are important).  Now we don’t get lost as much anymore...wish I could say we never get lost anymore, but that would be wishful thinking.  It’s nice to have an address book at my fingertips all the time...makes going to the post office a little less stressful.  That’s a lie, the post office is always stressful and it has nothing to do with an address book or a smartphone.  I think part of the reason I was holding off on getting a smart phone for so long is because I honestly didn’t think I needed one.  That and I have this thing about being self-reliant, and feel as though giving myself over to the iphone puts me in a vulnerable position.  It really doesn’t since I’m the one running the thing, and I have control over how much I rely on it.  And let’s be honest, I’m not getting any younger and my memory’s not getting any sharper...in fact, it’s quite the opposite.  It’s kind of nice to not have to try to remember every little thing.  I just have to remember to make the iphone remember.  Hmmm.  There’s been a little bit of a learning curve with it also.  Owning a Mac has helped with the transition, but every now and again I catch myself going into PC mode, which usually ends in frustration.  With the addition of the Mac, the iphone, and the ipad, I think it’s safe to say that I’ve made a full Apple transition.  I have joined the flock, I have drunk the kool-aid, I’m wearing the white sneakers, etc and so on.  

I spent the better part of an hour last night watching videos of parrots swearing on youtube.  I want a bird.  I want to teach it swear words.  Simon says that I’m not allowed to get a bird, even after all my dogs die.  He would rather I have a pug than a bird.  He would actually prefer that I have no pets at all, but I don’t see that happening.  I have decided though that if Simon ever lets me get a bird, it will either be an African Grey or an Indian Ringneck.  :)

Within the last few years I feel like it’s impossible to go anywhere without seeing red velvet cake.  And you know, I got sucked into the red velvet cake thing for a bit there too.  Until I actually sat down and ate the cake independently of the cream cheese frosting and realized that it has about as much taste as plain yellow cake.  How disappointing.  Here I thought I was getting some kind of decadent dessert, and it turns out I was just paying extra for red food coloring.  It was almost like finding out that Santa isn’t real.  Terrible.

Don’t call it a New Year’s resolution, but I’ve been going to the gym.  I know, it’s hard to believe that with all my disdain for exercising that I would even set foot in a gym, but I have.  And you know all that stuff that people are always saying about how exercise makes you feel good, gives you more energy, helps you sleep better, etc?  It’s true.  Part of me wishes that it wasn’t so I could tell all those exercising people that they were full of crap, and thereby give me an excuse not to exercise, but unfortunately, they were right.  So I continue to exercise.  And I’m actually starting to like it.  And it’s not like I hate all forms of exercise, just most forms of exercise...running, in particular.  I like to paddle board, I like to kayak, I like to play volleyball, I like to bike (but only on bike paths...I don’t like dealing with cars, and I don’t like lots of hills), and I like to go on long walks.  Unfortunately, I can’t have paddle boarding as my main source of exercising because I have to be near a calmish body of water, and it has to be somewhat warm.  The same thing goes for kayaking, although it doesn’t have to be quite as warm, and doesn’t have to be as calm.  Walking I can do anywhere (but I don’t), and volleyball...well...I’ve never had much of a competitive spirit, and that doesn’t really bode well for competitive sports.  That and I’m really not all that good at it.  And you can’t play volleyball without at least 4-6 other people.  Of course, those are all excuses.  If I really want to be serious about exercising for my overall well-being, I need to suck it up, join a gym, and get to it.  So I did.  With the encouragement of Ellen, Simon and I joined the Wellness Center that is affiliated with our hospital.  I go to spinning classes about 3 times a week, and go to the gym at least one other day to do machines and lift weights.  I think that from here on out, I’m going to have to join a gym in whatever city I end up in, because it’s been really nice and I’m really happy with my accomplishments thus far.  And our gym is really nice.  It’s kind of new, and it seems to cater to the AARP sect (there’s lots of those down here...and at least half of them at the gym are in better shape at 60 than I am at 32).  The trainers and instructors know almost everyone by name, and if not by name then by face.  What’s also nice about it is that there’s no competitive air to the place...there’s no dudes strutting around like the cock on the walk and there’s no women putting make-up on before hitting the machines (at least not that I’ve seen).  Not that I should care since what they’re doing has no effect on what I’m doing, I just don’t care to see it.  I had a membership to Lifetime Fitness back when I lived in St. Paul, and it felt like speed dating with treadmills...it was uncomfortable.  Again, being intimidated by women in make-up and men flexing their muscles shouldn’t be reason enough for me to not exercise.  So when I find myself in a different city with a membership to a different gym, I’ll just need to get over it.  I hope I’m able to maintain the motivation to continue to exercise.  We’ll see where I am in a month.

A few weeks ago I bought my first pair of leggings.  Yes, I told everyone that I would never do it, but then I went ahead and did it anyway.  And I like them.  They’re comfortable and they’re actually more flattering than I would have thought.  I’m still coming to grips with having so much of me exposed though...it’s weird.  It almost feels like I’m not wearing any pants, even though I am wearing pants...if you can call them that.  What is going on?  I’m exercising, I’m wearing leggings, what’s next?  This is all so bizarre.

For those of you who like to read memoirs, I recommend Adam Carolla’s.  Hear me out now, I know he’s kind of a douche, but his book was really good.  It’s interesting to read about how he grew up, where he came from, and how his career became what it is today.  Well, I think he’s still doing stuff today, I guess I don’t really follow him and haven’t kept tabs on him since the Man Show.  I was a the library and grabbed his book on a whim, and I honestly really enjoyed it.  He seems unexpectedly intelligent, and seems to have a good head on his shoulders.  Who knew the man who showed clips of Juggies jumping on trampolines had it in him?  I certainly didn’t.

There was one day a while back that Simon and I were riding along in silence in the car, and I was thinking about the way people talk.  Having lived in so many different places in the country, I’ve found that people have very different ways for saying essentially the same thing.  At first I used to think that everyone else said things wrong, and that I was saying everything right.  But then I got to thinking, just because I learned it one way, and they learned it another way, is either of us wrong?  Are we both right?  For example, in the South I notice that people generally say “I’ve not been...” instead of “I haven’t been.”  I used to assume that they were using improper grammar.  But then I broke down the phrases without the contractions.  Both phrases are essentially the same: I have not been.  The contraction is just different.  So which one is right?  Are they both right?  I have no idea.  Maybe those of you with some English education backgrounds could help me out on that one.  And then there’s the soda vs. pop argument.  Granted, everyone knows what pop is, and everyone knows what soda is.  Doesn’t matter where you’re from, they’re both shortened versions of soda pop.  Why some areas of the country use one instead of the other is a mystery.  I used to be a pop girl.  I hated hearing the word soda and scowled every time I heard someone use it.  However, after moving all over the country, I have to admit that soda is more widespread than pop.  In fact, saying pop gets me more weird looks than saying soda does.  So over the years I’ve adopted soda.  It still sounds weird to me, but I avoid confusing people.  I think that’s a big reason why people pick up accents and local dialects when they move from one part of the country to another.  If you say things the way the locals say things, you avoid confusion.  After a while it just becomes second nature.  See what happens when Simon and I don’t have anything to talk about in car?  I start thinking about things, and nothing good can come from that!  ;)

I’m also kind of a grammar and spelling nitpicker.  People who incorrectly use their/they’re/there or you’re/your incorrectly drive me up the wall.  And I see intelligent people making these same mistakes all the time.  How does that happen?  Seriously!  So I was ranting away one day about people and their errors, and Simon sheepishly pointed out that I use the phrase “Me and Simon” all the time.  Unfortunately, I’m aware that I do this, and in fact, I do it on purpose.  I don’t know why, but the phrase “Simon and I” sounds so stuffy and formal, even though I know it’s correct.  “Me and Simon” sounds cute and laid back, if not a little juvenile...it’s also a little closer to how I sound when I talk, and I like the feeling of bringing my speaking personality to my written word...even if makes me sound kind of stupid, which I’m sure it does.  I know I should switch to referring to myself as “I” instead of “Me,” but I just don’t like how it sounds.  So for those of you grammar nitpickers such as myself who have noticed my indiscretions, I’m doing it on purpose.  Sorry for that.  And Adam, I have to apologize to you specifically because I’m double spacing between all my sentences.  I’m trying really, really hard to quit doing that, but almost 20 years of double spacing is a hard habit to break.  I’m working on it.

And finally (yes, finally), for those of you wondering about my choice to switch from Facebook to Blogspot for my blogs (if you were, in fact, wondering at all).  I’m not all that thrilled with Facebook as of late.  They’ve made a lot of changes that I don’t really like, and when Simon and I compare News Feeds, we see very different things, despite having a lot of the same friends.  I feel like a lot is getting missed, and I don’t like the idea of Facebook deciding which friends to show more updates from, and which to show less.  They should let me decide that, since after all, these people are my friends and I have my reasons for wanting to see more from one person and less from another.  I know they have those filters and you can label people as acquaintances, top friends, etc., but I didn’t really find those to be all that useful.  I do like what they’ve done with Timeline...that looks really nice, but it’s just not enough.  Part of me also wanted a blog with which I had more control over customization.

So there’s that.  I’m hoping that with the new blog site I’ll be more likely to blog more often so the entries will be shorter!  Yay!  Everyone wins!  :)                          

California Recap

Okay, so I’m REALLY behind.  I don’t even remember the last time I actually sat down and wrote something so I’ve got a lot to catch up on.  And to deviate from my regular format, I’m going to TRY to keep things short.  We’ll see how that goes.  ;)

When Simon and I were living out in California, it’s safe to say that we were living near some of the most beautiful scenery in the country.  Now I’m not getting up on a high horse and saying that California is more beautiful than other places in the country...I didn’t turn into one of those people who thinks that there’s California, and then there’s everywhere else.  In fact, as I was leaving Minnesota for the California assignment, my mom said to me, “Don’t turn into one of those California girls.”  She could have meant a number of things, but I think what she meant was “Don’t forget where you came from.”  And I’ll be honest, my opinion of California, prior to actually living there, was very poor.  I thought California was nothing but a materialistic cesspool filled with nothing but plastic surgery, fast cars, designer handbags, bumper to bumper traffic, and celebrities thinking their poo doesn’t stink.  That is still my opinion of LA.  Again, having never spent more time than a few hours in LA, I’m probably way off base, but maybe not as far as I think.  As I’ve put in other posts, the San Francisco Bay area is chill, unassuming, and humble.  I loved it.  *Getting off the soapbox*  Okay, so back to the scenery.  So while we were in California, we had the pleasure of visiting Yosemite National Park, which was hands-down one of the coolest places I’ve ever been.  In my entire life.  I could have spent a whole week there rather than just an overnight.  From the giant sequoias to the waterfalls, there was just so much to see.  We also went to the Big Sur area, which I learned is not actually a national or state park, but is an area of the coastline.  The hiking trails here were harder to find because they‘re not marked very well.  Basically you just drive along the Pacific Coast Highway until you see a bunch of cars pulled over on the side of the road.  Usually you’ll find yourself a trail-head.  The water along the coast is so beautiful.  I used to think that the color seafoam green was something made up in a color lab, but I saw that exact color in the water along the California coast.  As the waves were breaking along the rocky shore, the water color ranged from deep deep blue to caribbean blue to seafoam green.  Gorgeous.  And mesmerizing.  To the north of where we were living was Muir Woods, home to some of the giant coastal redwoods.  Trees just don’t grow like that back home.  Tall and straight and multiple feet in diameter.  It’s easy to see why these trees were practically logged into extinction...the amount of lumber you could get from one tree has to be multitudes to what you get from your average oak or pine in Minnesota.  So those were a few of the places we visited while we were out in California.  

Going that direction, we had a coworker at Stanford who was picking our brains one night while we were at work.  At that point, we had only been to Muir Woods and San Francisco.  He sat there expectantly as I told him those places, and then waited a beat before he realized I was done.  “That’s it?  Those places aren’t even an hour away.  You haven’t been to LA or Yosemite or or or...” The list of places we apparently should have visited by then went on and on.  And it got me to thinking.  Simon and I travel across the country multiple times a year for work, and usually we end up living in some pretty cool places.  But when it comes to taking a trip for the sake of taking a trip...we don’t really do that.  Our trips consist of visiting places that usually fall within a 100 mile radius of where we live.  The last “trip” we took for the sake of taking a trip was our shortie cruise to the Bahamas...we were gone all of four days, and only had to drive 2 hours from where we lived to catch the boat.  And I don’t even really count that.  Had we not been living in Florida at the time, we would never have taken that cruise.  With us, it all seems to be about proximity.  And I’m okay with that, I just had never thought about it before.

I was once told by a friend in Minnesota that if a person ever lives in California, it would be irresponsible for them not to learn about wine (he was born and raised in California).  And prior to going out to California, my palate for wine was very small.  I knew that I liked reds better than whites, but the reds vary so much from bottle to bottle that I frequently was left with a ‘take it or leave it‘ opinion on it.  So, since we were out in California, where they grow tons of grapes for wine, I figured we should probably learn a little bit about wine.  And that learning mostly consisted of trying different glasses of wine at the restaurants that we frequented.  It was there that I found the red wine for me.  It is called Pinot Noir, and some might recognize it as the wine that Paul Giatmatti’s character was obsessed with in the movie Sideways.  Pinot Noir (sometimes just referred to as Pinot, which can be confusing because there’s also Pino Griggio, which is a sweet white wine) is a smooth red with very little dryness, making it perfect for me because I hate dry wines.  I don’t understand the palates that do like dry wines...it’s like purposely giving yourself cotton-mouth.  Anyway, so I’ve decided that Pinot Noir is my go-to wine from here on out.  Enter Sonoma Valley.  Sonoma Valley was about an hour and a half drive from where we were living in California.  Sonoma Valley is the lesser known cousin to the famous Napa Valley, and being that these two places are known as producing some of the best American wines, I figured we should probably pay them a visit since we were out there (it would have been irresponsible not to, right?).  Some people argue that wines are better in Sonoma.  I don’t get involved because either I like a wine, or I don’t.  Location (at that point) didn’t seem to play much of a part into whether or not I like a wine.  So Simon and I went to Sonoma to visit the Benziger winery, an estate that I had been to in the past and had really liked.  They do this type of farming called Bio-dynamic, which I understood to mean that they take their farming one step further than organic.  They don’t use pesticides or commercial fertilizers, and any waste products from their harvests are put back out in the vineyards as fertilizers.  They also have little ‘bug gardens‘ where they grow specific flowers to bring in “good” bugs who then fly out into the vineyards to eat the “bad” bugs.  It actually seems pretty cool.  So we went there and took the tour and got to have a private tasting in the wine cave.  Everyone there was very nice and friendly.  We made a few other stops at some other vineyards, tasting all the while.  We happened upon another winery called Ty Caton, and I had had one of his wines previously and had really enjoyed it.  So we swung in there and had some tastings there.  We even got to meet Ty, which was pretty cool.  It was there that one of the guys behind the counter told me that we needed to “work on my palate” since Pinot Noir was just unacceptable to him.  He didn’t come right out and say it, but I got the impression that he regards Pinot Noir about the same way one would regard Arbor Mist...wine for beer drinkers, not wine drinkers.  And what does he care what I like anyway?  I’m obviously not the only person that likes to drink Pinot Noir or they wouldn’t make it.  I had heard about wine snobs loitering about in California, but I hadn’t actually encountered one until that day in Sonoma.  It was then and there that I decided that a $10 bottle of wine is just as good as a $100 bottle of wine.  And here’s the thing I learned about wine...it does make a difference where the grapes are grown.  I might like one Pinot from California, and not like another grown in Oregon (for reference, the Pinot Noir that I seem to like the best is grown in the Santa Lucia Highlands in California...how's that for specific?).  Location matters, and the only way to find out what region you like your wine from, is by trial and error.  I’d rather make errors with $10 bottles than $100 bottles.  Just because a wine is expensive, doesn’t mean it’s going to taste good. 

When living in California, I noticed a little habit I had developed somewhere along the line in this traveling life of mine.  Whenever Simon and I were going on a day trip, I would always post a little status update on Facebook saying where we were going.  I figure that if something bad were to happen to us while we’re out and about, knowing where we were going is a good place to start to try to put the pieces together.  I know, it’s weird, and it’s only a facet of this “fear of death” thing that I’ve got going on.  So, if you see status updates detailing where I’m going for whatever reason, it’s a clue to where to start looking should I disappear off the face of the earth. 

I know I’ve talked about the dogs in California before, but I just have to mention how weird they were.  They’re incredibly aloof.  All of them.  I’ve never encountered dogs before who didn’t want to meet strangers.  If not for a little pat on the head, then for a swift nose to the crotch.  I didn’t get crotched by a single dog in California...not that I minded, of course, but I thought it was odd that these dogs had so much self control.  Maybe people in California do a better job of training their dogs to be good canine citizens, and that it’s impolite to shove one’s face in someone else’s crotch.  I have no idea.  All I know is that there were a ton of dogs living in our neighborhood in California, yet I had little to no interaction with any of them because they ignored me.  It wasn’t that they were well aware of my presence and held back to watch, they ignored me as if I wasn’t even there.  Some of the dogs even ignored my dogs, and how they managed to do that while my dogs were practically hanging themselves at the end of their leashes is still a mystery to me.

While living out in California, I noticed that my pants had gotten tight.  Yes, I probably gained weight while I was out there because the food was so good and the physical activity was uninspiring, at best.  I found it weird that when I was living in Florida, I went for 3-6 mile walks at 3-4 times a week, sometimes more.  Then I get out to California and all I want to do is sit around, go out to eat, and...yeah, I have no idea what else I did.  A lot of the roads in Palo Alto were very straight, and they all went through neighborhoods, and maybe I just got bored with walking by them.  Although, I really like looking at houses, so I don’t think that was it.  Maybe it’s because it was so flat, although Florida is really flat too.  I loved wandering around San Francisco when Simon and I would go there for the day.  The hills there are so steep, it’s a good work-out.  Maybe if we had lived in San Francisco I would have gone out and walked around more.  It’s weird how in some places I’m really inspired to get out and exercise, and other places I’m just not.  It shouldn’t matter, really.  I wish I liked to exercise, that would make this whole thing a lot easier.  And my pants would fit better.  :)

Simon and I were watching and episode of How I Met Your Mother, and the characters were talking about the phenomenon known as “graduation goggles,” the feeling of nostalgia you get when you’re leaving something familiar, even if that something familiar wasn’t all that pleasant.  For example, the name graduation goggles comes from that wistful feeling you might have had when graduating high school...even if high school really wasn’t all that pleasant, it was still familiar and something you had gotten used to.  The fear of the unknown causes graduation goggles to appear, and make it seem as though high school really wasn’t that bad after all.  I feel like graduation goggles are most frequently applied when in a relationship with someone you really don’t want to be in a relationship with.  Suddenly memories of all the good times come flooding back in, and you think to yourself that maybe staying with that person won’t be so bad after all.  Months later the relationship is on the skids, and even the graduation goggles can’t save the train wreck that is your relationship/job/family member/etc.  Simon and I had graduation goggles as our last days of Stanford drew close.  I remember one day, one of my last days, Simon and I were in the staff lounge at the end of our shift, and one of us (I don’t remember who) made the comment, “I’m actually going to miss it here.”  It was then that we realized we had graduation goggles on.  There’s no way I was going to miss working there, and in fact, would have to think long and hard about ever going back.  Being aware of the goggles is the half the battle.  

One funny thing I noticed about people in California is footwear.  Well, I notice footwear everywhere, but I was frequently perplexed by some of the footwear I saw in California, particularly by what people were wearing in Big Sur, Yosemite, and Muir Woods.  Keep in mind that there is hiking, sometimes strenuous hiking, to be done in all of these places.  We saw all manner of flip flops, Converse, Uggs, and even one man in loafers on the hiking trails.  How does one hike in those kinds of shoes?  I would have had to turn back after the first half hour...maybe even sooner than that...especially in the flip flops...or the loafers.  But I don’t own any loafers, so I guess I wouldn’t have been out there in loafers in the first place.  Maybe other people don’t have feet issues.  Maybe people like hiking in flip flops.  There were a lot of people in California that wear those barefoot shoes, both with the individual toes and without.  Those are weird too.  I want to try on a pair but so far I haven’t.  I believe those shoes are designed for running, and since I abhor running, there seems to be little point to even bothering with them.  

I guess that’s it for my California recap.  I do miss it out there, and lucky for me, I have a job that’ll most likely take me back there again someday.  :)