Lor and I slept in a bit on Tuesday. By the time we were ready to get on the road, we were itching to make good time, so breakfast at McDonald's it was. Since the truck wouldn't fit under the overhang leading up to the drive-through (or "drive-thru," as The McMan would have me call it), we went inside and found a whole horde of very young people messing around and generally being obnoxious. I usually have little against certain forms of obnoxious behavior, but I was feeling cranky. "Isn't it a school day?" I grumbled to Lorien, thus causing myself to feel both old and cranky.

This particular McDonald's did not sell French toast sticks.

We quickly made our way through the rest of Colorado and into Utah. Utah was absolutely gorgeous, but it was very, very windy. There were times when the wind was blowing towards the truck so hard that I had the gas pedal floored but couldn't go past 60. This wasn't as frightening as the random gusts of wind coming from the side, which was a little unnerving on the more mountainous passes (particularly when less alert drivers let themselves be blown partially into our lane), but we managed to avoid any incidents. It helped that there were long stretches of road with no cars at all. It's a strange and lovely feeling, being the only people on the road while surrounded by such an awe-inspiring landscape. I felt a little like I must be trespassing. Lor snapped many photos through the burial ground for bugs that was our windshield, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing them when she gets her computer set up in Seattle.

The drive from Grand Junction to Vegas took us about seven hours total, and we arrived safely, though we were beset by MapQuest impishness on the last portion of the trip: "Take the 95 South to the 95 North? What is this?" While we correctly identified that particular directional item as wrong, the rest of the directions were vexing, too. This led to a cell phone conversation between Lor and beatnik during which a stressed-out me (being even slightly lost while driving a truck in heavy street traffic isn't my bag, baby) decided to think good thoughts about the pizza and beer that awaited us. By the time we pulled into the parking lot and bumbled around looking for a place to leave Penske—I had begun to think of the truck as a pseudo-person by this time—everything seemed funny to me. "You want me to back up? Back up?!" I shrieked, laughing.

After some food and Shiner Bock, we headed out to the fabulous Venus, where we met up with doctorgogol, hugged, chatted, and hung out until we could no longer ignore the fact that Lor and I were really very tired. We went down to a restaurant in the hotel, and I managed to toss my cigarette several feet behind me while trying simply to raise my hand. I refused to look for a while, afraid that I had managed to land the butt in the faux fur coat of a liposuctioned socialite with half a can of Aquanet on her head and The Bloodlust in her heart, but luckily, the lit smokie just landed on the floor. Still, it was obviously time for bed.

On Wednesday, I woke up at 5:30 am for no good reason, and after trying to get back to sleep in vain, I decided to walk down to the drugstore for some nail polish remover. Lor made us breakfast, and then we lounged around and played on beatnik's computer until the afternoon, when we took Penske out for a spin to pick up some lunch and some dinner fixings. Lor made an artichoke dip that was seriously delish, and I made gemelli with artichokes, feta, and capers. We had wine, joked around, and watched old videotapes. The doc came over to join us and then very kindly lugged my enormous suitcase (I over pack. It's a bad habit. I brought six pairs of shoes.) around for me while I checked into my hotel. He and I then spent some time chatting in the cafe downstairs until my 5:30 am wake-up time caught up with me. The day and the evening were just what I needed, perfect after a few days on the road.

I slept in on Thursday and then met up with the good doctor for lunch and round-town adventures while beatnik worked and Lor took some much needed alone-time for herself. We ate at a wonderful hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant with a signed picture of Suzanne Somers on the wall. There were other celebrities on the wall, too, but I had a direct Chrissy view. We headed out to a couple of thrift shops, where it was determined that I just wasn't in shopping mode, and then to the Shark Reef, because I was definitely in aquarium mode.

At the Shark Reef, we decided that the person who wrote the script for the guy who narrated the exhibits—upon entering, we were given talkysticks and could enter the numbers of the different exhibits to hear a spiel—really should not have a job: "Here at the Shark Reef," the talkystick said, "the environment is soothing and tropical. You don't have to worry about airports, jet lag, or getting shot." We then decided that someone should start a band called the Water Monitors. I marveled at the sharks and rays, but I was absolutely transfixed by the jellyfish. We later met up with Lorien and beatnik at Venus and eventually headed down to the same restaurant we had eaten at late on Tuesday. This time, I managed not to throw anything.

On Friday, the doctor and Lor went out to lunch and thrift shops while beatnik and I went out to lunch (I had Thanksgiving on a bun!) and rollercoasters. Well, just one rollercoaster, but it had two loops and a double corkscrew. One of these days, I'm going to have to take a systematic tour of all the rollercoasters in Vegas. I love those things. After leaving the Canyon Blaster, we played carnival games and a video game or two until we ran out of quarters, and then we wandered over to see if we could check out the spinning carousel lounge, but it was closed indefinitely. Instead, we decided to blow the circus joint and go to Caesar's Palace, where we spent some time at Shadow and then wandered around the Forum Shops a bit.

We met up with our thrift store-savvy friends for Mediterranean food, and then we all took a nap break before meeting up again at Cheetah's, which was way too crowded. After being jostled one too many times, we went to the Double Down, where the doctor and I eventually bade goodnight to the Seattle-bound among us, who needed to get a good night's sleep. Gogol and I proceeded to stay out altogether too late—it's easy to do in that town—and I made it back to my hotel room with just enough time to sneak in a few hours' sleep before checking out, saying goodbye to the crew, and catching my plane.