Drew put it well: southern California isn’t so bad once you realize all it has to offer. I used to hate it down here; now I kinda like it.
After 17 grueling hours in my truck, Tom and I arrived in Loma Linda at 2 am Saturday morning. Wait, let’s back up. I turned in my brief on Friday morning. I was expecting it to be a more of a celebratory, burden-off-my-shoulders experience. I guess I had the wind taken out of my sails when I picked it up at the printers, and right there, smack dab in the middle, was a glaringly obvious typo: “REIVER” instead of “RIVER.” It was too late to make changes, so I had to turn it in. I’m guessing a model would have the same feeling when she has to turn in a headshot which has her with glaringly obvious zit right smack dab on the tip of her nose. Yeah, not cool. Not cool at all. That little slip-up vexxed me the whole drive down. I’m sure Tom wondered why I would suddenly pound the steering wheel for seemingly no reason. I guess it keeps me humble.
After 17 grueling, vexxed hours in my truck, Tom and I arrived in Loma Linda. Drew had sent us on this “shortcut” that looped us way out into the Mojave Desert before dropping back into the urban sprawl that is the Greater L.A. Mess. Along the way we were delayed by an exploded truck and super dense fog. The next day we were too tired to get up early enough to go skiing, so we went shopping instead. I think we bought everything except the things for which we were looking. I still need shorts. Tom still needs (“needs”) shoes.
On Sunday, we drove up to Bear Mountain for some skiing and snowboarding. I was pretty skeptical that there would be any snow, but I was wrong. There was plenty of snow. In fact there was so much snow that people made big piles of it all over the mountains. Others then used these piles of snow to launch themselves into the air and do fancy tricks. We did the same. I’ll have a couple of pics of that uploaded later. It was a good day of skiing over all. Not too cold, some sun, good snow, short lines.
Today, while Drew went to work, Tom and I went to the local Six Flags where we met up with 4 of Tom’s college friends. It was good to ride some serious rollercoasters. Last time I road rollercoasters was all the way back in 2002. Today Six Flags was swamped with high schoolers, and for a brief moment I thought no self-respecting twenty-something goes to theme parks. However, after the thrill of the first ride, I stopping thinking about my image. There were no hot babes around anyway, which was pretty disappointing. One of the last coasters we rode had the stupid name of “X.” The coolness of the ride had an inverse relationship with the stupidity of its name. It was by far the best rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, and I’ve been on quite a few. It had this interesting set up where the seats were on pivots, so that the entire seat racks could be rotated any which way they pleased. The way this worked out was you could be facing the ground, hanging upside down, riding backwards, or being back-flipped as the ride twisted around. It was the only rollercoaster that ever had me screaming in pure exhilaration and surprise. Probably the most memorable part is the intial drop. The ride takes you up facing backwards, slightly tilted up. By the time you reach the apex, you are lying flat on your back, and you can’t see where you’re going at all. Then you start falling. Just as you start falling, the chair rotates around so that you’re literally hanging from the straps facing the ground as you plunge down, only to be swooped away at the last minute and hurled into more twists.
Tomorrow, I’m looking forward to another day of shopping and hopefully going to this. Pretty creepy huh? I’m pretty wiped out, so I’m going to proof this in the morning.