Fourth of July Fly-by Pics

At the Valley Station at the base of the San Jacintos; the original blue tram bucket is to the left in the first pic:





"Hey there, hot chivo!" Inside the tram boarding lobby:



The tram conductor, jaw clenched and determined to get us to Mountain Station 10,801 feet above without giving in to smacking one of the tourist rugrats squealing at ear-bleeding pitch and running round and round:



Up, up, and AWAY! Chino Canyon down below:



Zipping on American wires in a fancy Swizz bucket between ancient rocks:



A marvelous view of my bony back and Dish Network ears:



"Hey babe, let's hang out at the balcony and take in the view, chill a while and maybe I'll catch up on this book I packed -- oh HEY, there's two empty seats at the bar!"



Three raspberry lemon drop martinis later:



The two guys to the left were on their honeymoon; they took pics of us and we exchanged e-mail addies -- they're planning a reception/nuptials celebration in San Diego. Eric, the one closest left, is a service union lobbyist and his husband is selling his house to mafiosos. And the het couple to our right worked on the set of the Sex and the City movie. They claim Chris "Mr. Big" Noth is an egomaniac who wouldn't talk to the crew even when directly asked work-related questions, surprise surprise. The blurriness is reflective of my buzzedness at the time. All in all, great conversation and a terrific bartender :)

So a couple of last-call beers after that, our lens-aiming and flash-using were a complete failure when the fireworks ten thousand-plus feet below began:



Contrary to the disclaimer posted at Valley Station that fireworks visibility wasn't a given, the fireworks from Sunrise Park in Palm Springs, Civic Center Park in Palm Desert, and a bit from Indio were in fact very visible, but you could barely hear them from that high above. There was a wonderful hush up there, watching below with the tourists from pretty much everywhere. And the climate so, so wonderfully cool aaaaah! Got to run now, may edit for coherence later.

Edited to add these random images of the view from Mountain Station by much more competent photographers:





(Winter views)




(View from the restaurant balcony)

YES: Skull and crossbones!

LOVE it :)

-- but establishing that I'm hopelessly pic-tarded by using the eraser thing because I can't figure out how to crop: not so much. At least my smeared allegedly water-resistant eyeliner won't be floating around in cyberspace, so there.

I know what I said about photos before, but ...

UPDATE: THE FOLLOWING PICS HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR SEMINONIMITY.



...I'm sticking out my tongue here, DH likes that kind of thing, go figure:





... I loveloveLOVE this swimsuit! And I don't think this one is near causing scandal the law firm can't handle. Gah -- that hair-don't done to me about two months ago is barely growing out -- but DH sure can handle a camera better than I ever will; only problem with this pic is the black and white skull and crossbones on the top aren't visible :(

We spent late morning to early afternoon at the site of one of my most memorable high school summer jobs: Knott's Soak City Palm Springs. Back in the day, I felt like I'd just auditioned and landed a part on Baywatch -- but boy, did the reality of pounding sun, wet and wild screaming kiddies, and staff drama quickly set in.

Now back to prep for the next round of online course hell come the 16th (yes, I sure know how to make summertime a party), then dinner at La Picanha tonight -- holding DH to that! Then will try to remember to give my half-baked review of the Sex and the City movie.

A MySpace Moment ...

... or Why You Should Never Trust a Charlotte Russe Sales Associate's Fashion (or Size) Sense

I think I've seen Paris Hilton working this top and butt-munching shorts somewhere:



The perfect heels for the resort hooker on the go:



But in Charlotte Russe's defense, just about every retailer at Westfield was working their mannequins with resorty shorts, disco-summery tops, and heels of every height.

And oh yes, I still have issues with that hair cut, dear lord a handful of pins and my tiniest clip can't keep it in check ... and now, back to napping away last night's Range Rover date dissipation.

Strike a pose! Ready, set ... cringe.

I got my pictures from the photo man sooner than expected ... and it was hate at first sight. The yoga asanas look very cheesy and, well, posed. Very MySpacey, too....ugh...and then they kick-started my inner paranoid obsessive, visualizing the random person who might know me stumbling upon this big fat PUBLIC blog and laugh-laugh-LAUGHING :O

Oddly, my mother LOVED them, so mission accomplished. They will only see the light of day in the family board thing she's helping my godmother out with next week.

BUT, in brighter news, running errands this morning I decided to pack along my Nikon again in case I came upon photo-worthy situations like I did that weekend near CopyKatz. Anyway, I discovered to my bottomless dismay that my photos were NOT being eaten by my PMS-ing computer, but were in fact not even recognized as photographs to begin with because (drumroll, please): My camera was inadvertently set to MOV mode, "silent movie" mode at some point, and not to JPEG. I dug up the Nikon manual and got it straight, worked it out and sample-shot in the restroom of a fine hospitality establishment in downtown:





So that's the extent of the properly JPEG-moded pics. ... GOD, look at my HAIR, wind-battered and YES, homegirl cut TOO SHORT last week... So , yeah, the competitive field of photography is safe from me tonight, and for many moons to come.