Arizona

I am off to Phoenix tomorrow. This has potential to be the worst trip ever:

• I am traveling to the Southwest.
• Arizona is a racist, Republican, hate-filled state where people play golf on purpose.
• The weather looks to be over 105 degrees.
• There are scorpions and deadly spiders all over.
• I am traveling with my boss and dozens of other old white people.
• I am staying at some ridiculous place called the Cameltoe Inn.
• I have to fly coach.

I can't really wrap my brain around this. Remember the old days when a business trip was to New York or Miami with an expense account? How the mighty have fallen....

Actually, what am I talking about? I hate Miami. And I had to go to Tex-Ass a lot, which is actually worse than Arizona. And I almost always flew coach -- even to London!

I need to quit whining. At least I am going to get some Air France miles for this trip. OK, off to clean the house and pack.

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I was expecting a miracle.

I totally thought that if I logged onto the stupid Christian Alaska Airlines web site at exactly 24 hours before my flight I could buy an upgrade to first class. It did not happen. It was not mean to be. I am so fucked.

So I spent the morning cleaning and doing laundry. Then it was time to get some lunch and go to the gym. I went to pick up Mark and to go get some Teriyaki. I should have known better since everyone else knows that of the 83 Seattle restaurants with Teriyaki in their name, all of them are closed on Sundays.


As we pulled out of the parking lot of the 83rd closed place, a man pulled up in a pickup, honked, rolled down his window, held up a bloody hand and asked if we knew where the nearest hospital was. I told him to just follow us and we drove up to Swedish and to the emergency room.


Good karma right?

Why the hell couldn't he have cut his hand off an hour before so that I could have had the good karma then and gotten an upgrade? Stupid universe.


Anyway, since we were up on the hill we decided to blow off the gym and have a proper lunch. Anchovies and Olives was not open. Who knew that was a Teriyaki restaurant? Boom Noodles was surrounded by 14,000 women in pink protesting against breast cancer. I hate all cancer, but now I really hate breast cancer. Get out of the crosswalk, women!

For no apparent reason I said, "Hey let's go try to get into Sitka & Spruce in the trendy new Melrose Market.


The karma kicked in at this point and I found a parking spot right in front. We walked in and there was one open table. We were seated immediately. Outside the restaurant someone was filming a male model as he went through his "to do" list for the day:

1. Don't shave well
2. Look good in pants
3. Have floppy British schoolboy hair
4. Eat bacon and stay skinny

Inside the restaurant we drank Albarino while eating giant olives, chick pea mash with Harissa, sauteed fava beans, and tuna slowly poached in olive oil sitting on some thinly sliced watermelon on top of a puddle of tahini.


Well, that totally didn't suck.


I have to say I felt like I was in Paris in there. The food was fine, nothing to fall down and wet your pants over, but really good. No, it was not the food, it was the people. The people eating there were so gorgeous. Every one of the them young, pretty, well dressed, and skinny. Just like in Paris. Fuckers.

I cannot believe we found a parking place in front and were seated immediately. I'd have given it all up to not fly coach tomorrow.


Here's for better karmic timing the rest of the week.


Off to Scottsdale and the Cameltoe resort in the morning. In coach. Oh and get this -- I learned tonight that they don't have wi-fi at this place. iPad stays home and I will have to lug that stupid HP abacus that take 2 hours to warm up with me.






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I am here, in the valley of hell. It's 5:30 in the afternoon, 106 degrees and 0% humidity.


I knew this was going to be a resort of little houses, on the hillside, little houses made of adobe, little houses on the hillside, filled with scorpions, little houses, all the same.....

I planned ahead. I got a big tube of caulk at Loews. I just finished up caulking the cracks under the doors and sealing all the drains shut. Nothing gets in. Not sure how I will get out.


The flight was not that bad, really, I guess, until I realized I had forgotten my Bose Noise Reduction Headphones and then I started crying.

Mark dropped me at Sea-Tac and I went to Anthony's. Yes, I had a Blood Mary. Yes, it was the big one with the shrimp in it. Fish is good for you. I also had some Mahi Mahi tacos as I am sure that will be the last fish I see this week.


I found a copy of my beloved shiny Wallpaper Magazine and a Food and Wine with "authentic recipes from Rome."

A very nice man at the Alaska counter got me a window seat in the exit row. Turns out there is now wi-fi on Alaska Airlines planes, so I ended up spending the whole flight doing Facebook and sending emails every 5 minutes. Oregon was on fire, Nevada very ugly, and the Grand Canyon was a big ass crack on the face of the earth. Pretty though.


From the air, Phoenix is one big obscene blob of sprawl punctuated by random mountains in the middle of the grid. There are well over 4 million people in this valley, which really has no viable source of water. So stupid.

"The Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, the friendliest airport in America" is nothing special, but the rental car facility more than a few miles away was huge, new, and expensive. Kind of like a shopping mall covered in granite. Speaks volumes to their priorities here.


There seem to be two downtowns, the old one from Psycho, and a new one a few miles away that I think is called Midtown. I think there are height restrictions because the airport is so close, so there are no real skyscrapers and no interesting architecture. Flying in, I did see what appears to be a new sports stadium built between two slag heaps. There were some newish Vancouver looking condo towers with views of the slag heaps also.


Many, many miles of new looking freeways with almost no traffic on them. My boss insisted or driving past the hotel and wandering in the desert for 45 minutes looking for a 7-11 so he could buy some bottled water there instead of paying for it at the hotel. We could not find a 7-11. Instead, we found the Phoenix version of Metropolitan Market, called Fine Foods. As we approached Fine Foods, we saw little misty sprinkler things coming out of the walkway that spritzed us with a moist, downy fog. We felt cool and refreshed. At Fine Foods,  I bought a large SmartWater, and my boss stocked up on Dasani and chips.


The hotel is at the foot of a small mountain that does in fact really look like a camel toe. I am going to go take a shower and then find some dinner if I can find a way to get out of my room.


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I was hoping to have dinner with my boss. I got online (using an ethernet cable!) and emailed him. Cell phones don't seem to work here. By 6:30 I had not heard back and I was hungry, but I thought I heard a coyote outside my door. I stood at the door for 30 minutes and I think it went away. I ventured out into the still 105 degree heat, heading towards the restaurants. En route I started seeing bunnies. First one, then another, then another. I felt like Matt Bockus!

There was no one I knew in the restaurant so I came back to this little adobe house on the hillside and ordered room service. A nice teenage boy delivered a greed salad, green enchiladas, and a diet coke. How is that for being good?


Tomorrow is non-stop work and having to talk to people I don't know. I am going to bed. I am sure I will be up in a few hours thinking there are snakes, or scorpions, or spiders in my room.

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It's 2am and I know there is something crawling around in the air conditioner.

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Today required that I be in work mode. I shaved, ironed my t-shirt and long sleeve shirt and pants, and walked through the 101 degree heat at 7am to the conference room. By the time I got there I was sunburned, drenched in sweat, only to see several old white directors and vice-presidents in shorts. So horrible.

This was one of those standard work things where someone senior gets up and makes a motivating speech and then we break into little teams and write things on post-it notes and stick them to pieces of butcher paper on the walls. For 8 hours. Then we broke for cocktails, then dinner. I was good and only had one drink -- well, okay, three. I don't know these people well enough to even get buzzed in front of them. As soon as I was done with dinner I pretended to have an urgent phone call and ran back to my room. I just could not smile or make small talk any more. I really hate people I don't know. I took a long bath in my giant deep tub and went to bed.....after I re-caulked the doors and drains. And put towels down in front of the doors. And kept the lights on.


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New day. Walking to work in shorts and an Old Navy short sleeve shirt I bought on Maui. There are bunnies hopping about about, quail chirping around, and hummingbirds buzzing by. Sunlight is just hitting the slag heaps. Maybe this place isn't all that bad.


I get to the conference room and all the directors and vice-presidents are wearing long pants and jackets.

Our leader spends the first 10 minutes insulting President Obama, making vague gay jokes, and saying that women only want to shop for shoes. Of the 40 or so people in the room, 3 are black, at least 3 are gay, and most are women. Only the old white boys are laughing. I think about walking out and flying home but just then Pemco emails me to say that they are not going to cover the water damage to my house so I go even deeper into debt. Can't quit my job and probably won't get a vacation next year now. Well.....fuck.

Midday this woman from Huntsville, Alabama comes up and asks me if I am a foodie. I pause and wonder if I have not been sucking in my stomach enough. Turns out she is a big hag and has me nailed. She is going to Sonoma next week and somehow knew I would have good restaurant recommendations. We chat about restaurants, TV cooking shows, famous chefs. When I mention that Nigella's new show starts on Sunday we both squeal and the whole room goes quiet. I tell her I already have the new cookbook, Kitchen by Nigella Lawson, as I special ordered it from the UK. We squeal again and exchange business cards.


We get done early today because the directors all get in a fight with the vice-president. This is good because I have a 5:00 spa reservation. Mark has bought me a spa visit because he owes me for making me watch Paranormal Activity a few weeks ago.


I soak in a bubbly hot pool, steam myself in the steam room, then get a really good facial with a neck and foot massage. It's great and very relaxing. As I walk back to my little adobe house on the hillside I think maybe Arizona is not all that bad again. It is really pretty here as the sun sets over the slag heaps.


I get back to my room and turn on the local TV news. The top story is that some football player (Kurt Warner?) who apparently lives here is on Dancing With the Stars. Local Christian groups are in an uproar for his lascivious behavior. He gets on live TV and explains how he and his fake blond wife and her fake boobs are using Dancing With the Stars to "glorify Jesus". If I were home, Margaret Cho would be on TV explaining how she is using Dancing With the Stars to "glorify" her vagina. Then they go on to a live story about how the border with Mexico is "broken" and how their retard governor is not going to do any debates this election year because she is in the lead. Then a commercial comes on TV announcing a recall of hip replacement parts. What a fucked up place. Spa glow is over. I ring up room service and order a bottle of wine and some pork slow cooked in green chili. I want to go home.


I am drinking wine and reading about the latest in leather daddy fashion from the UK in my shiny Wallpaper magazine while I wait for Modern Family and Cougar Town.

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It is 2:30 AM and my ankles itch. I am convinced this hotel has bed bugs.  I have no evidence of this other than itchy ankles.  Did I wash my legs after my foot massage....?


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Time to leave Arizona!  Yay!  I get up, shower my ankles, head to the lobby to check out early and then to the restaurant for breakfast.  A really nice Mexican waiter tells me to do the buffet to save money as everything on the regular menu is in the buffet for half the price.  He brings me a carafe of grapefruit juice and a pot of coffee just as some horrible table of Republicans sits down.  They are mean to him and act like he does not speak English.  He does not mention the buffet to them.  He is so getting a 40% tip. 


The buffet is really good.  Like 9 kinds of homemade salsa.  I had some oatmeal (because I had to), then I stole all of their smoked salmon (because I had to), and then I was bad and had some hash browns with salsa on top.  Because I had to. 


My boss is running late but he finally shows and we head towards the airport. He slams on the brakes in the middle of the road and does a u-turn to get to a Jack-In-The-Box because he likes the coffee. 


Then we have to stop and put gas in the rental car because he is too cheap to buy the prepaid option.  When I mentioned that I was a member of the Hertz #1 club and that I never fill up my tank he was baffled. Why are people so cheap?


I get an exit row again on the flight home. I order a sandwich on the plane and there is no creepy Christian prayer pamphlet slipped in.  I am home in 2.5 hours.  It's sunny and gorgeous in Seattle. And a humane 40 degrees cooler. Driving home, we hear on the radio that there are protests downtown blocking traffic.  Lesbian bicyclists are demanding ethical treatment for transgendered nuns in Guatemala.  I am so glad to be home. 
















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