“Are you playing the town drunk?” “I’m actually supposed to be the mayor!”

May 8, 2012 Comments Off read Attractions, California, Pacific, Travel, USA, West

On our first day in San Diego, we had some free time in the afternoon, so we decided to pay a visit to Old Town to see what life in Ye Olde San Diego was like: as it turns out, it was full of gift shops and booze, so I don’t know why historians keep going on and on about how tough things were for settlers. No, there wasn’t a churro stand on EVERY corner, but that’s really less a hardship and more of a motivation to walk the twenty or so steps to the next one.

^{A child’s fantasy? What with the horrorshow rusted marionettes, I was thinking more along the lines of “A Child’s Nightmare”.}

Near one of the churro stands, we saw the “Old Town House of Jerky & Root Beer”, which is what I will assume that settlers ate and drank exclusively when they weren’t busy cramming tubes of cinnamon-sugared fried dough into their face holes. I believe in authentic experiences, so I was definitely game to sample their wares. Upon entry, the twenty-something year old shopkeep eyeballed us, gave us a knowing smile, and said “You guys are nerds, aren’t you? I can just tell, there aren’t a lot of nerds around here.” Well, yes, Jason was wearing a Green Lantern shirt, but I still feel that “nerd” is a strong word from someone dressed in full 1820s regalia.

It was a particularly educational day to visit the donkeys as they were less in a “Let’s teach people about history” mood and more in a “Let’s have state-protected donkey sex through the gate that separates us” mood. It was also educational to hear how parents explained donkey business to their children. We thought about panning for gold, but figured we’d have better luck for the same money panning out of a bottle of Goldschläger, and, as a bonus, we’d smell minty-fresh afterward.

The whole time we were in Old Town, Jason talked up his candle-dipping prowess, bragging about how he’d received an award in elementary school for “best candle” and that when he burned it, it brought peace to warring nations and appears next to the word “beauty” in some of the world’s finer illustrated encyclopedias. But when we got to the candle dipping shop, he utterly refused to defend his title in the Candle Dipping Battle of the Century, so I feel like he may have exaggerated his skills somewhat. Unfortunately, I’ll never know.

A little nostalgia

August 26, 2010 15 Comments read Masticating With Mellzah, Travel

Ten years ago today, I left San Diego for Taipei, with layovers in Seattle and Tokyo. There are so many subjects that I never even touched upon. One of these years, maybe I’ll finish writing about it. Is there even any interest in hearing the rest of the stories?

It’s strange, the things you miss. Yes, I would love to go back and revisit the National Palace Museum and see festivals and check out temples, and of course I miss all of the wonderful exchange students (though they wouldn’t be there, should I return)…but the thing I’ve been actively craving for the last decade? Street food. Not even high-quality Taiwanese restaurant food, but street food. The spicy beef noodle soup I used to bring home in a clear plastic bag, the bubble tea, the long, rectangular crispy dumplings, candied haw, green onion pancakes, red bean-stuffed pancakes, EVERYTHING ON A STICK…the list goes on. Some things, like bubble tea, have taken off in the area and I can acquire them when the craving turns into a desperate need. Other things, I’ve been futilely trying to purchase or make myself ever since. Sadly, the closest thing I’ve found to the beef noodle soup is a frozen food version from the 99 Ranch Market–whenever I’ve spied something that might be right on a Chinese restaurant menu, the noodles have been wrong or the broth is wrong, and the tastebuds searching for that particular sensory memory are disappointed again.

I can hardly believe it’s been ten years. It doesn’t nearly feel that long ago! If it were more recent, I’d stand a chance of finding the instant noodle commercial that Beth and I were in on youtube…but sadly, ten years is a long time tech-wise. I don’t even know whom I might contact to try to get a copy for myself. As it stands, I don’t even know what the hell noodle company it WAS. But I still totally endorse their product. 100%!

One Classy Lass

April 6, 2010 17 Comments read California, Masticating With Mellzah, Pacific, Travel, USA, West

My dad and I packed in quite a bit during my last day in San Diego. The first step was packing our stomachs. I’d mentioned some nostalgia over the Walker Brothers pancake house in Chicago, and by whatever grace exists in the univese, they’ve opened ONE location outside of chicagoland, and that location is in San Diego. When I am willing to get into this sort of a line for a pancake, know that it is no ordinary pancake, it is the best damn pancake on earth.

I’m serious. After cramming myself dangerously full of apple pancake and perfect thick-cut bacon, it was determined that we would go ride bikes around Mission Bay. Here’s the thing about that. ‘They’ say that once you learn to ride a bike, you’ll never forget, and that may be true. It took me much, much, MUCH longer than my peers to learn how to ride a bike. My parents hadn’t realized that scabs on knees could possibly become so thick prior to the ‘Melissa attempting to ride a bike year(s)’. So while you may never forget how to ride a bike, let me assure you that if it’s been, say, a good fifteen years since you’ve last straddled one, the first few miles are going to be white-knuckled and shaky. Granted, it was a Monday, so pedestrian traffic around the bay was not as thick as it would be on the weekend, but it was more than thick enough for my tastes. A woman jogging with a double-wide baby stroller cut in front of me, and I worked at keeping a safe distance behind her…but then she slowed down. I couldn’t go around her, as a large group of people were walking in the opposite direction, with a large dog that kept bounding into my lane of ‘traffic’. At this point, I was traveling slow enough to wobble and didn’t know what to do. So, of course, I panicked, yanked the handlebars taking the bike off-path into the sand and then promptly flipped over said handlebars. You never forget how to ride a bike…in the manner to which you are accustomed. We rode for about eight more miles after the, er, incident, and by the end I was doing quite well–riding a lot more confidently, doing a few things off-path without (or with less) fear, engaging street traffic without shitting myself, and only wobbling when reaching back to make sure my wallet hadn’t popped out of my pants pocket as it is wont to do. After we returned the bikes, we took a good long walk to Pacific Beach, seeing as how we still had more time and it was a gorgeous day.

There are wee cabins sitting out on the pier at Pacific Beach that you can rent. I think it would be lovely to spend a night or two sleeping out above the ocean. After we walked back, we STILL had a little more time, so we wandered around Seaport Village a bit. One of the pedicab drivers noted my ‘Benjamin Franklinstein’ shirt and offered us a free ride to wherever we were going, but we declined since we didn’t really have a destination. From Seaport Village, it’s only a short distance to the airport, so my dad dropped me off in plenty of time. It only took me five minutes to get through security, so I decided to get a cool beverage while I waited to board the plane. It was then that I realized how badly my arms were burned, when my skin crinkled in that taut, uncomfortable way as I reached for my wallet. This is another significant piece of evidence that I don’t learn from my mistakes. When I went to Hawaii with Alex, we went snorkling, and I didn’t think to put sunscreen on the backs of my legs, though they’d be hanging out of the water all day long, and consequently got one of the worst burns of my life. This time, I gave no thought to the idea that in the act of riding a bike, my arms would be stretched out in front of me and hence much more exposed than they are normally. That’s how I wound up with a totally elegant farmer-tan-line burn. At the moment, I’m flaking and leaving DNA evidence everywhere, so I must be careful not to commit any murders until AFTER I’m done healing.