Home Means Nevada, Part 3

There is probably no one in all of the world who loves Nevada more than our good friend and Elko native Andrea Paris Nevin. To know her is to know the tune of the state song "Home Means Nevada" (hence the name of this series of blogs) and hear her sing it to you on occasion. Here, her and I at outside of her Dad's house near Elko.

Arizona became a state on Feb. 14, 1912. I know this because I interviewed a lot of old-timers when I lived in Yuma. I have no idea what day California became a state, but I remember that it was once a state holiday from an article I saw in an old newspaper. It was never a holiday when I was growing up. Arizona's birthday (or "admission day") isn't a holiday either. Maybe they didn't want to get in the way of Valentine's Day.

Not so in Nevada. Oct. 31 is Nevada Day. That's right. Nevada became a state on Halloween, 1864. I missed the holiday last year, because even though I was here before Oct. 31, the actual holiday is observed on the Friday before that date (unless that day falls on a Friday, as it does this year.) Lots of people get the day off work, high school football games are scheduled for another day, and there is a parade in Carson City. I don't know what else goes on because, obviously, I've never been a part of it. And it looks like I'll have to wait another year to find out ... because tonight Chris and I are headed for Arizona! Thanks to the Silver State for giving us an extra day for our trip. We'll do a toast to you back in the Grand Canyon State.

In honor of mine and Chris' first year in Nevada, here are a few photos of some of our good times across the northern part of the state:

Date night at Circus Circus

Burning up the dance floor at the Paris-Nevin wedding in Lamoille Grove

Locking our love in Lovelock

Throwing away the key in the Truckee River

Baking and Carving

Last night our friends had us over for dinner and some fall fun. We had chili and cornbread, and then the girls made apple pie and carved pumpkins while the guys watched football. This is my pumpkin:

Then today Chris told me he'd carve me a pumpkin, if I would scoop out the insides for him. If you know Chris very well, you know this is not a surprising request. Here are the pumpkins we carved today - Chris did the one on the right. It's winking at me ;)

I also made these cupcakes to take to work tomorrow. Don't you wish you worked in our office?

Home Means Nevada, Part 2

Sometimes, among Native Nevadans, there lies anti-Californian sentiments. Like bumper stickers that say "I don't care how they do it in California" and reader comments on our Web site telling other readers (those darned liberals!) to move back to California.

I resent these remarks. Having grown up just 80 miles away and in a much smaller town, I have been coming to Reno (and supporting its economy) since I was 6 years old. We always came here to do our shopping, at Parklane Mall, then Meadowood. My mom and stepdad stocked up at Costco and bought their furniture at McMahon's. My orthodonist was here. My sister and I flew in and out of the Reno airport probably three times a year to visit our dad and stepmom in L.A. We'd usually stop at Bordertown on the way home for a sandwich loaded up with so much turkey we'd take off half of it and save it to make another sandwich the next day.

Dad and Deb used to fly to Reno, come pick us up in Quincy, and bring us back to Reno for the weekend. We'd stay at the MGM, which later became Bally's, which later became the Reno Hilton, which now is Grand Sierra Resort. There, we'd swim in the pool and go bowling and me and Mena looooooved the old-fashioned candy shop. We were very sad when it ceased to be the MGM and lost the red carpeting on the grand staircase and old black and white photos of Hollywood stars. They'd take us to Circus Circus, where we'd play games and watch acrobats and have our faces painted like clowns. Once they took us to Carson City to learn about the state capitol. Sometimes, at dinner, we'd get to play Keno.

When I turned 16 and got my own car, I'd drive Mena and our friends to Reno spend our paychecks at Claire's and Contempo Casual and Hot Topic. I celebrated my 21st birthday here, and then my 23rd - because that year Mena was old enough to enjoy slots and cocktails with me and Mom.

I have a lot of Reno memories, but growing up I never thought I'd live here. I never saw much of the city outside of downtown or mall shopping, and I failed to see its charm. I somehow missed the quaint neighborhoods and local boutiques and parks along the river.

I'm glad I gave it a second chance.

I can't believe it took almost a year

I came home from work the other night and, for the first time since Chris got his 60-inch TV, he was playing video games. I'm surprised it took so long!

I wouldn't mind a $150,000 wardrobe

Dear Sen. John McCain,

I don't really have much interest in serving as vice president, but I wouldn't mind having $150,000 to blow on a new wardrobe, so I'm willing to give it a shot.

I figure I'm nearly as qualified as Gov. Sarah Palin for the job. You see, I grew up in a small town of just 5,000 people. Like Palin, it took me a little longer to finish college because I worked my way through school. I also have a degree in journalism. Heck, I was even in a pageant once.

As for executive experience, I was class president both junior and senior year in high school. Later, I was editor of my college newspaper.

I have a good understanding of issues in western states, having lived in California, Washington, Nevada and Arizona, where I was so close to Mexico that I could see it on a clear day (and actually went there a few times.) While we're on the subject of foreign policy, it may interest you to know that I have also traveled to the Middle East.

And if Katie Couric asks, I get my national and international news from reading the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Post and listening to NPR. (If BBC news didn't come on at 3 a.m., I would watch that, too.)

Thank you for your consideration.

Ouch

With Halloween right around the corner, and all the blood that goes with many of the costumes, out there I thought this video was appropriate.

It's not Saw but still nice

And as the e-mail I got this in said, "you can actually hear her head hit the pole" if you turn up the volume pretty good.

Enjoy...

Home Means Nevada, Part 1

It's funny how your sense of "home" changes throughout your life. I turned 6 the summer we moved to Quincy, and I will always consider it my hometown. But I remember a time when I was 18 and had lived in Monterey for about six months and was driving back from a visit to Quincy. The highway curved before me and I saw the ocean ahead and this feeling came over me that I can't quite explain. It was the first time since I'd lived there that I really felt like I was coming home.

I lived in Monterey for five years, then San Jose for two. When I graduated from San Jose State, I left for a three-month internship in Wenatchee, Wash. (the buckle of the power belt of the great northwest, if I recall the newspaper's masthead correctly.) I left Wenatchee on an undetermined course. My grandpa was sick, and my immediate plan was to drive to Oakland to see my sister for a few days and then to San Diego to see him. As I came into the East Bay and around another curve that put the ocean straight ahead of me, that wave of feeling came over me again and my eyes became teary. Those three months had been hard, in large part because of the uncertainty that came at the end of them. Being back in the Bay Area, with my sister, I felt a feeling of home and comfort.

I wasn't there long. The morning after I arrived, my phone rang at 6 a.m. My grandpa had taken a turn for the worse. I left as soon as I could, hoping for a chance to say goodbye. I didn't get there in time. The next few days I was busy helping my family in any way I could and visiting with relatives and friends. But when the funeral was over and everyone went back home, it hit me: I had no idea where I would go or what I would do, and I missed my grandparents so much. One of my uncles offered me a job until I found one with a newspaper, and said I could stay in my grandparents' house as long as I needed to. I wasn't there much more than a month, but my time there was just what I needed, to spend time with my thoughts and my family, visit the cemetery and carry on my grandpa's routine of spending Saturday mornings at the training track and going out to his favorite breakfast spot. I felt very much at home there.

I accepted the job offer from Yuma over the phone. I'd never been there. I'd never even heard of it before I sent in my clips. But at that point, I was willing to go just about anywhere that offered me a job as a reporter. One of the benefits was that it was close enough to drive to L.A. or San Diego to see my family on the weekends. I had a great time in Yuma. Though I don't remember ever being hit with the feeling of home as I had in other places, it was the right place for me at the time. I made wonderful friends and I miss it now occasionally.

About three months after Chris and I started dating, he joined me in L.A. for my birthday weekend. We went to a Dodgers-Giants game with my Dad and Debbie, had a night out with my college friend Becky and her friends, breakfast with Jennifer and Jim. It was a great weekend, and by the time we got back to Yuma, and I got out of my car and it was hot and smelly (you really only noticed the stink when you left and came back) I was suddenly homesick - homesick for a place I hadn't lived since I was too young to remember.

Chris and I were together more than a year when he showed me a picture of a condo project that was being developed. He was thinking of buying one, and asked if I would live with him. I thought my heart would jump out of my chest. We began looking around at other houses. And then he was offered a job in Flagstaff. I was happy for him, but I was devastated too. I wondered how we could make it work living more than four hours away from each other. I cried a lot in those weeks before he moved. And then I got a job offer outside of Phoenix, at a bigger paper, and two hours closer to Chris. The moves were good for both of us career-wise. We saw each other as much as possible in the year that followed, taking turns visiting on the weekends. It strengthened our relationship, and it was a great opportunity for me to better get to know Chris' friends and family. But it was hard on us, too. We kept an eye out for opportunities that would allow us to live in the same city, and we had some disappointments. But I always believe that everything happens for a reason, and I know now the way things happened was the way they were meant to. Chris had already bought a ring when he was offered a job in Reno. I had already decided if he was offered the job, I would move with him. He accepted the job on a Friday. Two days later, he proposed. And the rest, as they say, is history.

We are glad we made the move to the Biggest Little City. We like our jobs and have made some friends. We've experienced all of the seasons. We're closer to my Mom. We enjoy taking weekend trips to the Bay Area. But we are sometimes both homesick for Arizona ... and me for Southern California.

We don't know where the journey will take us next, but I'm glad that it is now our journey - instead of mine. Though I think it was always our journey, leading us to each other. And I know now where home really is - anywhere that Chris is.