Friday, June 11, 2010

California Girls!




So, we took a road trip. 'Road trips are fun,' you say. And they are....for the most part.

Ali and packed our much-beloved summer-themed garb into matching coal-black pilot cases and crammed them unceremoniously into the trunk--or boot for those British friends out there--and we made for the Golden State.

Riding in the back seat of my parent's sedan, (Yes, we went with my parents. :o/) we hopped onto southbound I-15 with palm trees in our eyes. Wedged into the rear confines of the car, we were unable to feel the air conditioning (though my dad insists that if he aims it at the ceiling, the air will ricochet and hit us square in the face providing us with a refreshing coolness. This does not work, which I consequently attempted to explain to him on numerous occasions throughout my childhood. All it serves to accomplish is making the fabric of the ceiling ice cold and making the rear passengers a wee bit testy ;o))

We sat surrounded by every essential item that either didn't fit in the trunk/boot or was deemed to be necessary during travel, such as Easy Cheese (I'm the one that determined the necessity of this particular item. :o))

Not twenty minutes into the trip, however, I realized I had left my dad's credit card at home. ( I had been in charge of booking the hotel and had left it on my desk beside my laptop. Oops.) This should have been a heeded omen. It was not.

Driving through seemingly endless miles of barren desert landscape, we finally arrived in Costa Mesa? (Yes, that's a question mark as I am not entirely sure where our hotel was.) We met up with my brother, his better half, Ashley and son, Kaeden, who all had the foresight to fly there; perhaps they're just less masochistic. ;o)

We spent a few days there, visiting my dad's old stomping grounds, showing the kids the ocean--which is almost as cool as The Great Salt Lake (insert sarcasm.) And all in all, enjoying being somewhere different; somewhere new. I got some darling new gladiators and purchased a matching pair for Miss Alixandra and got to eat the world's best fresh Mex at Sharky's.

We had a blast! And my dad, who usually eschews all things technologically advanced, grew to love the Google Nav app on my phone!

Ali and Kaeden at Balboa Beach. Note the aforementioned gladiators.


Then there was the ride home. It was a trial to test even the most tolerant of souls... Which--consequently--I am not. By the time we hit Vegas, the car was overheating and strangely enough smelled a lot like overcooked lasagna. Really, really overcooked.

Rolling into a mechanic's shop, we were assured we'd make it home with no problem. Lies lies lies. Between the omen at the beginning of the trip and the car smelling like burnt Italian food, you'd think we'd just have thrown in the towel. But no--we're Hoffmann's and we are nothing if not notoriously stubborn.

So we soldiered on; passing St. George and the southernmost portion of Utah determined to make it with little to no car issues. No one's gonna tell us we can't make it home.

Fast forward to Cedar City where plumes of pewter-colored smoke were to be seen billowing from beneath said sedan hood.

The damage? A new engine, which fortunately had been the problem since Vegas and hadn't resulted from our stubborn hope to arrive home before addressing the problem. We were just given poor advice by our liar mechanic. Jerk :o) In short, another day was added to our journey and the car took about five weeks to be towed and repaired. Don't even ask what the cost was. I didn't.

The moral: never take a trip in the back of your parent's sedan at the ripe old age of 32. What did I think the best-case scenario would be? No I'm kidding. It was fun and definitely memorable! :o)


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