I’ve done too many things this month and now I’m uninspired and have too much to write about. I guess the first and foremost thing that overrides all is that baseball season is over for us. In case you didn’t hear BASEBALL SEASON IS OVER. Not for MLB, just for us.

It was getting later in the season and we were in between a profit we were happy with and a profit we would have been really happy with so, we decided that for preservation of sanity and bankroll we would stop at either of the two choices. Just days after our pact we had our largest and most impressive one day loss record to date, and ended up happy for the season.

All this went on while I was in Baja Mexico eating bean burritos and drinking tequilla. I decided on a last minute trip with friends from LA so Andy could get some programming work done and watch the Olympics without me hovering over his shoulder. You may or may not know this about me but watching any length of televised sports really harshes my mellow. I think it’s the constant crowd noise that does it. I thought if I went on a short trip Andy could get a healthy dose of Olympic coverage while programming without worrying if he was hurting my head.

There were many interesting Baja stories, but I’m not sure if they were interesting enough to commit to paper. Margaritas, laying around on the beach, a short trip to “Scandalosa” Ensenada’s only gay bar. Since there were zero customers in Scandalosa we went over to Hussongs, Ensenada’s oldest bar where ironically enough, I watched the Olympics.

When we left Mexico, we were sent to secondary screening at the border. I accidentally got into the speed pass lane without a speed pass. It was my first time in secondary. I didn’t have anything illegal in the car, but my mind raced anyway. Thank god I didn’t take up the offer (not that I would) in Puerto Nuevo from the restaurant owner who sold us home made vanilla and cinnamon tequilla and then offered that he owned the farmacia next door. Xanyx, Valium, Ecstasy, Cocaine…..whatever we needed. Caesar said he was our man.

Secondary turned out fine. They didn’t even search our car. They saw the yellow ticket (everyone else had orange tickets) wagged a finger and said, “don’t go through that lane next time”.

I flew back to Vegas for the week and I’m going back to SD on Friday (I left my car there) to meet my mom and help her to find a place to live. The house that I grew up in is sold and in a very short amount of time, my born and bred Midwestern mother is going to become a California resident.

We’re going to be staying at our current place until September 15th while Andy finishes his hockey season then, we’re not quite sure what comes next.

RV,
originally uploaded by cindigodotcom.

I think we’ve decided to sell the RV. We don’t really want to but it’s been baking in the Vegas sun and Vegas is not kind to vehicles. We would love to keep it somewhere in San Diego or anywhere with a more temperate climate. If anyone has any ideas as to how we can do that, please speak up.

Here’s the site I made for it:

http://www.cindigo.com/RV/index.html

If you click on the thumbnails, you can view a bigger picture.

We put alot of work into it and really would like to keep it for future adventures, but the right thing may be to sell it. If we can keep it, I found a place in Mexico that can do the exterior painting for cheap. The exterior looks not great, but the inside is. We told ourselves that it was on purpose, you know, for theft deterrent.

super fly mom,
originally uploaded by cindigodotcom.

Swiped from my cousin’s blog: “Woman” refers to my mom. She basically made a split-second decision to pursue and ultimately catch an intoxicated 20 year-old that ran through our yard, into our garage door pushing the other car through the wall. She heard the noise of the screeching car got up and was watching from the kitchen window. She was furious and jumped into the untouched second car in the driveway.

“‘I was afraid he would ram my car, but he didn’t,’” she said. ‘Some people looked out of their house and I hollered, ‘Call the police,’ and I guess they did.”

It was a pretty exciting night. I think I was five or six when it happened. I still remember being slightly embarrassed about being around all the cops and neighbors outside in my pajamas. My sister slept through the whole thing.

The first time Andy’s and my parent’s re-met, Andy’s mom brought up this very subject while we were having breakfast. She said, “Remember that lady from the neighborhood that chased the drunk driver down with her own car?” We all had a good laugh over that. What are the odds?

For those of you not in the know, Andy and I grew up a few blocks from each other. We met in kindergarten, were friends in grade school but hung out in different circles in high school. We lost touch until I got that life changing note six years ago through classmates.com. Cute? Embarrassing? Awesome? I never quite know how to feel about the classmates story.

alien

Originally uploaded by cindigodotcom

I uploaded my SD pictures. You can see them here I took many more, but I’m picky about what I upload.

I’m back in Vegas and don’t have much to add about it.

nova and cindigo x-sanguine 2008

Originally uploaded by cindigodotcom

I was supposed to be back in Vegas this afternoon. I decided that it is next to impossible for Andy to get any proper programming done while I’m around, so I’m staying for a few more days. I know your all disbelieving my motives, but it’s true. Although I’m not missing Vegas, I am missing Andy. But, if I have to stay in sunny and breezy San Diego to take one for the team, so be it.

The epic X-Sanguine party on Saturday night was, well….epic. The above picture is of me and Nova. The party was sponsored by Red Bull and hosted by the Suicide Girls. I have to add here that photoshop has been very kind to those girls. (Like I’m one to talk. I photoshopped my wedding photos for god’s sake.) Also, they we’re alot more boring than I would have expected. Boring and young. Some of them looked 12 and pretty much sullenly sat around the booth all day texting and slouching. I have to say, it did wonders for my no longer 21 year old self.

We got to the party at nine and didn’t leave until around three. I was just going to write that I wasn’t even tired, but I drank so much Red Bull (there may have been a little vodka thrown in the mix) that I think I’m just now starting to fall asleep.

I didn’t think I was the kind of girl that enjoyed private VIP tables and bottle service but I learned otherwise. How fun was it not to have to stand in line for drinks and actually have a somewhat private table and chairs and not have to lean on a banister or wall for the duration. Not to mention that I got to hang out with the tiki bar tv guys all night. I felt like I was watching their video podcast live. Drunken fools, or genius drunken fools, you decide. I missed the crazy, floaty, blow up rubber suit girl but danced in the midst of the insane doctor clowns on stilts. Damn you cable that I forgot in Las Vegas that would allow me to upload all my pictures.

I heard that Anthrax (the band not the disease) was there and a main character from Torchwood. Not to mention Richard Taylor of Lord of the Rings (and many other films) fame who invited Kevin to New Zealand. I was jokingly (maybe) chastised by Andy for choosing to hang out with the drunken tiki guys and not the Oscar winning special effects guy.

I will be back in Vegas by Wednesday. I think. Maybe. We’ll see.

I am here, back to the land of milk and honey, beaches and right now, comics. This is my second annual Comic Con adventure. I feel like an interloper but at least a benevolent one. I mean yeah, I had a healthy stack of graphic novels in college and I enjoyed Ren and Stimpy but this, this is a world unto itself.

I’m supposed to be there right now. It’s 9:15 am and I was told to be downtown earlier so I could actually park. I’ve garnered a super secret special exhibitor badge that lets me in to the “con” (as we like to say) an hour and a half before the masses. I wasn’t exceptionally motivated this morning because I have two more days to cash in on that particular aspect of my golden ticket. Plus, my mom sent me an email asking me to block out a half an hour to “talk” (read complain and try every which way to meddle) about my sister who is having some pretty nasty medical problems. How could I go out and have fun, knowing that I have to have this important and life changing conversation. Better that I stay here in this fluffy, pink bed and await the call.

Yesterday I flew in to the San Diego airport and took a shuttle to one of the hotels close to the convention center. I shared it with one other guy. He was exceptionally chatty and after a few back and forths I realized a bit touched. He really could have been a crazy, drunk homeless guy. But him on the shuttle from the SD airport staying at the Embassy Suites? It didn’t quite make sense. He was asking me all kinds of questions, where I’m from, what I’m doing in town in a manner that I can only describe as a vacillation between Rainman and Charles Bukowsky. When I finally got to ask him why he was in town, he said that he was here for Comic Con also. He rapidly, Bukowski style, told me about being there in THE beginning, trading comics from under his bed in the 50’s and hanging out with the guy that started Comic Con.

When I asked him if he was here for fun, he told me, Rainman style that he was here for a panel. His panel. “I have a panel, yeah, a panel, my panel. Gonna talk about all this stuff, all this stuff”. I asked him his name, still half believing that he was a crazy homeless guy that was in love with comics.

His name: Ralph Bakshi.

I know for most of you, that big reveal of the name didn’t do much, but in a former life, I did go to art school and the name did impress me. Bakshi is one of the few godfathers of modern animation.

We got out of the van and the small thought that this guy was a crazy impostor vanished as I looked down at his dirty, cartoon colored paint stained once white tennis shoes. He asked me if I had a place to stay, because if I didn’t, I could stay in his room with him. At first I thought he was hitting on me, but then as I politely refused telling him that I was staying with friends, thought that he was honestly asking from a crazy guy perspective. He thought I needed a place to sleep and he had a room, perfect match. Or at least that makes me feel better about the interaction.

His panel discussion is tomorrow at 4:30, I might go.

My little home on the web is still a little rickety and not congruent with my grandiose vision. The spam is flooding in, the page readers are being set up and the broken links and strange browser displays are being dealt with. This will probably out me as a little more disturbed that I usually let on but, moving and redesigning my site stresses me out more than actually packing up my entire real time home and moving.

We’re dog sitting for another friend in Vegas. We’ve been given the run of their house and in a little over a day, have thoroughly trashed it. It will all be perfect by the time they get back, but jesus, we really know how to move right in. I hope we’re not being filmed.

Andy’s three day vacation from baseball, the All Star Break, is over and he’s back to work. We’re coming up to month five of seven-ish. The -ish comes about because we’re never really sure if we’re going to bet the playoffs or not. We’re both pretty over being here and looking forward to the end that is in sight. It’s hot, hot and more hot. The news weather people are really into talking about monsoon season but so far, only one bout of storms and I was in San Diego when it happened. For my tastes, monsoons are the best weather in Vegas. I’m looking forward to some torrential rain and destruction of the city that holds us in it’s evil (but profitable) clutches.

I’m going back to San Diego this week sometime to hang out with friends at Comic Con. I tried to convince Andy to bet online for a few days and come with me, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded. He’s a responsible guy that one. Although, I think responsibility is just a thin cover. He enjoys the time alone more than if I dragged him all over San Diego. I personally like being dragged all over the place, but my better half has a much more centered and calm demeanor. I thought for sure that the invite to the Dexter after party would have gotten him, but no, he stood firm. We’ll have enough time to drag each other around the world when baseball season is over.

I’m not joking about that either. It was my plan all along. I watched so much tv that I…..I can’t think of anything to end that sentence cleverly, but just know, it was an epic day. Abby and Sam, the two pug dogs I’m babysitting couldn’t even hang. At about ten or so they called it quits, moved from the couch into their crate and snored like small motor boats until I went upstairs at 1 am.

My original plan was to do more of the same today, but I think I’ve had enough. After the dogs and I are done hanging out on the couch and checking the internets I’m going to the store to buy a delicious brand of dehydrated soup that is only sold at two grocery stores here in SD. Probably this evening I will continue on with the epic slothness that I normally don’t indulge in.

You might have thought with the switch over to Word Press, I would try to refine and update my content a little. Sorry.

*edit: 8:08 pm, I’m drinking champagne that I bought today and watching this:

This is the best weekend ever.

6:45 am. We went to bed at 2 and were up at 4 to come to the Mac store at Fashion Valley in San Diego. You could probably tell already from the font, I’m in the SD once again. There was an emergency pet sitting crisis that I solved by jumping in the trusty Element. Any excuse to get out of Vegas, really. Pet sitting? Pretty thin, I know.

The store is opening at 8. Kevin is doing a pod/vod or some other type of -od cast linked to other apple stores around the country for Qualcom. I look all official and stuff sitting behind the swanky titanium table surrounded by all things mac doing nothing. Not to mention out of six of the swanky laptops, mine is the swankiest. I’m such a poser. If only they knew I’ve been using a pc for the last six months and it didn’t even really bother me.

Randomly, Eugene Rodenberry, son of, Star Trek creator, Gene Roddenberry just came up to chat and send a video message to the tech guy Leo Laporte. He’s waiting in line for his iphone too.

His famous "mew ball"

Originally uploaded by cindigodotcom

I thought you’d like to see Andy’s *computer wallpaper for the baseball season.

*I had to put “computer” in there because I know if my mom read that she would be confused as to why we we’re wallpapering the room we’re renting with this image.

Will

Originally uploaded by cindigodotcom

One half of “Nicole and Will”. I thought you might be interested to see our colorful roomies. Nicole is here.

These pictures were taken while walking down the street to go to a suspected drunk driver’s house to confront him. We suspected him not only of being drunk (which is not necessarily confrontable on it’s own) but of hitting our other room mate’s car. Well, we pretty much knew since red Honda car parts were strewn down the street from Ben’s car practically leading down the block to a driveway with a red Honda that had it’s whole left front corner smashed in.

Is the entertainment is never going to end?

You would think for the first post on my shiny new blog, I would write something really spectatular. But I’ve got nothing.

I really just wanted to christen it with a few words.

Tomorrow is MY BIRTHDAY! Not actually the day of my birth, but, the day that my brand new bouncing baby computer will be delivered. I don’t know if you can tell, but this is my “excited about my new computer being delivered” font.

It’s way too long after the fact to truly tell the story with any sort of freshness, but I’ll try:

Last week, I walked over to the kitchen sink, put a dish in and turned around and walked five steps. There was an amazing crashing sound of objects falling to the ground and shattering and breaking glass. I turned around. Andy turned around. We were both a little stunned, and then confused. The most obvious thought that we both had was, something that I had just done, caused this. Then the confusion set in with what looked like a small door or cover to an air conditioner or water heater in the middle of broken window glass on the kitchen floor. It didn’t make sense because the window that the metal came through was was blocked by an eight foot wall.

Finally after many theories, we went next door to see if it was the most obvious culprits of all, the neighbor kids. A guy with red watery eyes, corn rows that looked in serious need of maintenance, baggy basketball shorts and a wife beater (slightly stained) opened the door. I thought there might be an argument. I thought this especially since our room mate Will had a few beers and he himself had no shirt on and seemed like he might enjoy starting a fight.

Amazingly enough, the guy was really nice. He came over to see the damage. We told him that the object came over the wall between our houses, and we thought it might have been his kids. He said (I don’t know if this translates in text but it was really funny) “Oh they did it. I knoooowwwwww they did it. I thought they were walking kind of fast when they came in the house”. He asked to have the piece of metal and then offered to pay for the window.

Fifteen minutes later a very red eyed, sniffley, sorry eleven year old came over to apologize. It was so heartbreaking and cute all at the same time. We all related to the poor kid. I don’t think it was malicious. I think they were just screwing around and things went to far.

I don’t know if Nicole and Will, the couple we’re renting from are going to actually fix the damage, but, back here sequestered in our bedroom cave, it doesn’t affect us too much. Although I can’t imagine that the sheets of paper from the DMV that are taped over the hole are doing much for the air conditioning bill.

We have a new pet. A adolescent praying Mantis Nicole found in the bathroom this morning. I’m afraid he may have gotten a healthy dose of roach and ant killer and may not make it. But, we’re all pulling for little Vladito (I’ve named him in honor of this guy). I’m watching him right now in his makeshift vase-home and he’s stumbling around like a little stick drunkard.

Nicole found a place that sold wingless fruit flies but by the time she made it home, they were all cooked and dead from the heat. I fed him a dead fly with tweezers as mother internet suggested. I flew it around his little home making wingless fly-like sounds, or what I imagined them to sound like. It worked, and was pretty cool.

When he got off the tallest of the sticks and went to the bottom of the vase tweezers were not an appropriate feeding tool. I came up with the as of yet un-patented, synthetic hair-pin stabbed wingless fruit fly feeding device. Said fly was attached to said hair with gushy fruit fly guts. I waved that around for a while. Vladito pulled the fly off the hair, but just dropped it to the ground.

Now he’s sitting on the internet suggested wet sponge cleaning his head and antenna with his arms.

Is my life not the most glamorous and interesting thing you’ve every been exposed to? Maybe later I’ll be inspired to write about the big chunk of metal that came flying through our kitchen window last week.

I can’t believe I didn’t tell you sooner…

Kindle.

Under the front seat of the car.

I checked the front seat of my car, apparently not well enough. Andy rocks my world.