Friday, July 27, 2007

San Diego, part 2

Monday we decided to try our hand at Sea World. We spend some time there on our last trip to San Diego and had a great time. . . Tiff & the girls were planning to get season passes, so they decided they'd join us part way through the day.

This is where we spent a good chunk of our day. . . again. For some reason, this guy totally fascinates us:


When the girls showed up, we saw a couple of shows before retiring for the day. These are the 3 girls, and Ben, at the Sea Lion show:

Ben with Madison

Lily & Kate

Ben and I then joined some friends for one of our favorite out of town treats. . . Cheesecake Factory. WHY is there not on in Utah, I ask you? WHY?! And while we're on the subject. . . Trader Joes. WHY are you not in Utah? Don't you know you could make a killing here? I'm just saying. . .

Tuesday we took off from San Diego and went up to LA. Our friends Rob & Michelle were kind enough to let us stay with them, as we had tickets to another theatrical experience that night. As an anniversary surprise, Ben had gotten tickets to see Wicked.


What an AMAZING show. I had such a fantastic time. It was so brilliantly done. The cast was awesome. The set was gorgeous, and the theater (The Pantages) was SO cool. Best anniversary present EVER.

The drive home was meant to be rather uneventful. We left LA at 10:30 am, figuring we'd get back to Springville around dark. No problem. I nodded off while Ben drove and all was going fine, until about 40 miles past Barstow. There was suddenly a clicking noise in the front passenger wheel well. It was weird, and a little disturbing, so we pulled off the road to look. Nothing appeared wrong, so we kept driving, and it started clicking again. So we pulled off the road again, and I pulled the car forward slowly while Ben watched the tire. . . at which point he saw a stringy thing hanging off of it. We decided to go up the road about a mile to the rest stop and take the tire off and check it out. . . turns out, the tread on the inside of the tire was coming off.

The short version of the story is this: we had to call a tow truck, rather than drive on a tire that was losing tread or a tiny donut on the freeway. We had to be towed back to Barstow, because there was no tire store in Baker. And, in the end, we had to replace 3 tires (the other was replaced a couple of months ago) 5 hours after the time we'd gone through Barstow the first time, we left it again. Hot, tired, and ready to be done. After a day of stress like that, it's no wonder I started having contractions. . . And let's just say this baby is SO not ready to be born yet. SO we decided to be smart and stay in Mesquite again, at the same hotel, so I could lay down and rest and hope the contractions would stop. Luckily they did.

In the end, it was a very exciting trip. And expensive trip, but an exciting one. And we're really glad we did that one last time before the baby makes travelling a whole new adventure!

4 comments:

Heidi said...

I'm SO excited that you got to see Wicked! What an awesome surprise. :) I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

We don't have Trader Joe's over here either, bummer. I just got a swap package with a TJ chocolate orange cake mix in it. It was yummy, but your chocolate orange cupcake recipe is still my favorite!

And oh my gosh--5 hours stuck in Barstow in late July? That's like the 4th circle of Hell or something. Ugh. Glad you made it home safe!

Jer said...

Yeah...Barstow. I hope you thought of me momentarily. Being in Barstow is practically like being in Boron, only 45 miles away. Boron is like Barstow, just smaller and not quite so nice.

I hope you enjoyed the...well, whatever we've got. Heat and dust.

Loraine Edwards said...

But did they need to spend so much on the dragon !!

Melanie said...

Jer, I did actually consider that we were close to your home town during that whole debacle, and to be honest, I can't imagine what it would have been like to grow up there. . . I'm sure you have a good place in your heart for it, but I firmly believe it may be close to hell, geographically speaking. . .