Monday, May 02, 2005

late afternoon

Idiot of the Day - Wynn Las Vegas Webmaster

Holy crap, what a horrible website.  Seriously, go to Wynn Las Vegas and prepare to get motion sickness from the constantly moving navbars.  I went to Contact, you know, to let them know how I feel about their horrible horrible HORRIBLE website, but then the top/bottom navbars were scrolling to left and the contact form starting scrolling down.  So I didn’t have to go rushing to throw up, I left the site instead.  Hey Wynn Las Vegas webmaster, just because you can use Flash doesn’t mean you should.  It’s kind of funny, the Steve Wynn voiceover told me to be prepared for surprises while perusing their site - I didn’t think one of the surprises would be, “Hey, guess what, you’ll need Dramamine.” Even worse, the only reason I went to the site was to find out information about their buffet.  I live in Las Vegas, I like fancy buffets.  I’d read a bit about the buffet in the newspaper, but I wanted pictures and more info.  Know what I got?  Information about the chefs in their other restaurants.  That’s right, nothing about their buffet.  Color me pedestrian, but I don’t care about celebrity chefs.

The news/newspapers raved about the Wynn Las Vegas water features.  Did I see any of those on their fancy schmancy website?  No.  Perhaps it was my fault for not sticking it out any longer, but I honestly thought I was going to be sick.  I even tried going to the site twice, thinking maybe I was overreacting the first time.  No.  In fact, I think I may have originally underestimated the nausea factor.  Granted, it won’t stop me from going to the hotel to see the pretty things and to eat at the buffet, but I doubt I’ll ever return to the website unless someone lets me know it’s safe and that there’s a html version of the site.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

evening

Meet Murphy and His Law

On Friday we went to Technicow to finally meet Robin.  Since she works all day, every day, we figured we couldn’t possibly miss her.  We did.  We picked her ONE day off.  We have incredible timing.  We don’t live very far away (less than six miles), so it was more surprising than anything.  “Hey, whaddya mean she isn’t here?  She’s always here.” Anyway, her husband, Andy, was there, so all was not lost.  We spent over an hour talking to him and being relieved that our politics, religion and sense of humor are the same.  Okay, not so much relieved, but pleased, since I figured we were pretty safe with knowing Robin reads my blog.  I doubt I have any right-wing regular readers.  Heh, I maybe only have five regular readers.

Murphy strikes again - after we left Technicow, we decided to try the new Filipino restaurant down the street from them.  We’d already been there twice when they had an “open” sign in their window...and there weren’t open yet.  So, it’s now been months, we figured we were safe.  We got there at 8:01p.  They closed at 8p.  We went to Del Taco instead.  Hey, their new fish tacos are actually good, especially considering their price.  Spicy & tasty.  Go figure.

Today, we decided to toy with Murphy, knowing he couldn’t possibly win twice.  Yes!  Robin was at work AND the Filipino restaurant was open.  So, we finally got to meet “Mr. Technicow” - funnily enough, she (and her pink baseball cap) look nothing like a cranky old bald guy with a mustache.  We hung out for a while talking, comparing who felt the oldest (I am, by three weeks) and I think she won.  Oh yeah, and trying to convince them that they should go to CoffeeFest, which is the best trade show ever.  I think that eventually we’ll figure out how to combine our glass etching with the coffee business.  Anyway, we really enjoyed meeting the Technicow family (their 8 year old daughter was there too) and I’m sure we’ll stop in occasionally to bug Robin and sing her songs and bless her and stuff.

On our way home, we stopped by to see our favorite baristas (hey, I can’t pick an absolute favorite, that isn’t fair) and get drinks.  I got a shaken iced tea lemonade and some artwork.  Here’s a picture of someone, uh, spitting in my drink.  I promised I wouldn’t name the barista, but s/he knows who s/he is.