I'm going back to Cali... Nah, I don't think so.

On my way to Cali, flying over a sizably impressive mountain range. This is before the head hemorrhage/nosebleed of death broke out in the seat next to me, after I got but busted for bringing too large of a carry on, but during the Indian (dot, not feathered) children scream/kickfest behind me. I'm not sure if my ears needed to pop, or if I had gone partially deaf from turning up my I-Pod so loud to disguise their screams as some bitchin Motley Crue.

This would be the infamous Louie. Those are my legs. Louie likes to bite my legs, try to pull my pajamas down and bring sand into my deflated air mattress. We hung out Friday morning until Erika got off of work. That pretty much makes us homies now. After she got home, we did the 17 Mile drive from Monterey to Carmel. Here's some pictures from our drive.

There are 3 separate golf courses on the 17 mile drive. This is where you tee off of one.

This is me inside of a giant tree. Notice the left half of my torso won't fit inside this massive tree.

This is Erika inside the same giant tree. Notice that her entire body fits inside the tree with room to make it a summer home. This is why that shirt would have never fit, my dear.

This is the lone cypress. It's really old. There's also a stone wall of China around it. That's all I remember. Oh and there were weird midget parking curbs.

After our scenic drive, we stopped at Carmel and explored a wee bit. It was charming and quaint and infested with Asians and old people. Once we realized that, we got the hell out of dodge and headed home to beautify. Erika's boss gave her a gift certificate to this super swank restaurant where we ate and drank like it was the last supper. After our 3 courses of pure gluttony, we went to a few different bars and partied like rock stars until 3am. We ended up meeting some guy from Festus, or was it Fenton, or wait, Arnold? Like it matters... Anyway, he was nice and escorted us around all night either waiting for a late night chance to film his own "Girls Gone Wild" commercial or he was just being a gentlemen. Yeah right. Either way, the closest he got was buying us drinks at the last bar of the night where we met these scary Sicilians that just got out of prison. Here's a picture of them.

The best part is that I just realized the scariest of all the Sicilians, Gasper, is trying to put his tongue in Erika's ear. Pshaw. As if Erika would let that lumpy-headed-three stooged-imitator come near her ear. Anyway, the night ended with a sobering trip to Taco Bell and a good laugh at all the drunks inside. Us included. And by the way did you know I'm a snowboard model? Yeah, me either...

The next day, Saturday, we did some historical Monterey stuff. We went to the first theatre in California where this old man wouldn't stop his incessant babble about history and pomeranians in diapers, so Erika lied to him and told him she had to let her dog out. We went to the Native American Museum where Erika informed everyone how she really feels about "those people" and we decided that there was far too much to read and left. She showed me the garden out front where she had thought about having her wedding. (This is it.)

Then we took Louie to the beach in the rain, which was still really fun because no one else was there. Then we did Cannery Row at night. Here's a picture from the little dockside clam shack we ate at.

As if we weren't already smart enough, we decided to pack our brains a little more full with a tour through time in what better educational vehicle than a wax museum narrated by John Steinbeck. Erika freaked out because apparently she is terrified of wax people. And I have to give it to her, that shit is scary. But it's not as bad as the St. Louis wax museum where the characters' faces are melting off like when Arnold falls out of the biodome on Mars in Total Recall. Yikes. This wax museum did have some creepy characters that were never mentioned in the tour... they just lurked in the dark. Which makes me wonder, were they really wax people at all? DUN, DUN, DUN! To prove my point here is a picture from inside. If you can't tell, that is the look of sheer terror across the native American's face as he is being tortured by either a Spaniard, American or Mexican. I can't remember because they were all evil in this story. Either way, he was was terrifying.

After that, we headed back to Erika's to have a chillax (thanks Bernie Mac) night, consisting of renting Meet the Fockers and getting authentic Mexican food. This translates to "falling asleep during the movie after we ate damn good, but damn overpriced tortas." We finished the movie the next morning then it was time for Louie's first day of puppy school and Jennie's last day of Monterey. We said our goodbyes *sniff, sniff* and I drove my Chevy Cobalt back to the San Jose airport. Everything was way prettier driving in the daylight, so that was fun. And I drove through San Luis which I thought was hilarious. The flight home was fine, besides my neighbor with an extreme case of flatulence and my other neighbor that kept talking about her freaky sci-fi fairs. It was nice to come home and see Otto, oh and Kris too. Just to remind everyone how adorable he is is, here's a picture of him from the day we got him and now.

Thanks for coming out and reading, hope you had a great time, and remember.... don't come back now, y a' hear! Now, who wants to go to lunch?