It is that second one I am currently missing…here’s to hoping I find it soon.

They met me Saturday in Goldfield (the drive up was rainy until about 10 minutes before Goldfield) and it turns out that is the one day of the week the gas station restaurant is closed and it was snowing so hard we just decided not to look around but rather head up to Tonopah.

I wanted to take them to a sandwich place I like but they too were closed on Saturday.  We punted one final time and just decided to have lunch at the hotel.  We ate at the Mizpah’s cafe, named after Senator Pittman (interestingly we ended up staying in his suite for the night – where he was NOT put on ice after death).  We drank some at the bar while we waited for our room to be ready.  Finally our room was ready and we settled in and relaxed from the less than easy drive. We went for a walk and stopped by the bookstore and the mining park.  Quite the Tonopah experience.

We had dinner in the Jack Dempsey Room for the St. Patrick’s Day gala.  A four course meal that was well done with a bottle of wine that was quite delicious despite a rubber band malfunction.  After dinner we went back to the bar for more drinks and then to our room for a night of pretty restful sleep.

The morning included coffee, some breakfast burritos and a far too difficult goodbye.  Perhaps the most interesting part of the weekend was arriving back home at Pahrump.  When I come back from work trips up north, it feels good to be home.  After this trip, home felt less like home as I was reminded that true home is a few hundred miles away and that when my work here is done, I need to head back up the great snowy north.

This week the windows on the car have been rolled down which means I’ve been able to crank up the tunes.  I’ve found it is also easier to get myself off the couch and head to the gym.

So..cheers to you daylight!

Thursday night worked until about 7 and then headed to a great new coffee shop in Pahrump and filled up on coffee and a sandwhich.  A quick stop home to pack and to the store for some golf balls and I hit the road to Vegas.  My law school roommates (the two that were in the same house with me all three years) were scheduled to land at 11:30pm.  The plane actually arrived around midnight and we loaded up the Mini Cooper with their bags and golf clubs (yes, the car was filled to absolute maximum capacity as I could barely squeeze my hand in to reach the shifter).  We made our way to luxurious Imperial Palace and unloaded.  Despite the late hour we played some blackjack with their Dealertainers.  Dolly was good to us; Garth Brooks…not so much.  At about 2:30 we headed up to the room to crash.

My alarm went off at 5:30AM.  I rose and made my way to the shower.  We were all up and out of the casino by about 6:15.  We had a 7:16 tee time at Desert Rose Golf Course, a nice little public golf course east of the strip.  Why so damn early? The plan for the day included two rounds of 18 holes.  Desert Rose was fairly nice.  It kind of reminded me of Wildcreek back home.  Water is expensive in the desert so the fairways were short and narrow and the rough was more like dirt with hay sprinkled on it.  The back nine lead to some interesting situations as the course was under some real construction.  Temporary tee boxes in weird locations, rugged cart terrain and the occasional worker standing near the green you’re aiming for.  The course was so rough, we had one mechanical casualty.  We ended the round at Desert Rose at about 11:30.

We ate lunch at a Lebanese restaurant I got to know last time some friends visited. It was the perfect food between rounds.  Our next course was Wild Horse.  The most challenging part of this course was finding it.  Google maps lead us to some weird condo complex and then a back street with no access.  We could see the course, we just couldn’t find it.  We finally called and checked in, well tried to check in.  We made the reservation for the wrong day.  Luckily, the let us on anyway.  This course is actually quite fun and I would recommend it to anyone looking for golf in Vegas.  Two great hole included one Par 3 with significant water in front of it where I lucked out and hit the green and one putted for a birdie.  The other great hole was 9 which has a very tricky approach with a green protected by water on 3.5 sides and quirky distances.  We all did well…mostly because when we tried to go it we totally choked and ended up accidentally playing it safe.  Our best hole as a threesome was #34 in which we all just hit our stride.  It was dark by the time we got off the last green but we had accomplished our goal…36 holes in one day.

We went back to the hotel, rested, had a quick dinner, some fancy drinks at the Cosmopolitan and then crashed hard.  The next day we woke up and had a big breakfast, packed the car with our clubs and headed for our third course of the weekend.  Luckily, it was Eagle Crest, a short par 60 course which we made quick work of; our arms left useless and red from the sun.

With 54 holes under our belts we went back to the Palace, got presentable and met one of my roommate’s parents at the New York New York before heading to Fremont Street where we indulged in fried Twinkis and Oreos at Mermaids and then cheap Blackjack at the El Cortez.  After cleaning up at the Cortez, we went back to the Imperial Palace and played around for a bit more.  I ended up about even for the weekend which isn’t too shabby.

Sunday morning came too quickly and off to the airport we went, said our goodbyes, and sent them on their way.  I spent a few more hours in town (that’s what Pahrumpians call Vegas) and then made my way back….sunburned, exhausted, and not at all ready for the week ahead.

Tonight when I walked out of the office, I could smell that desert rain smell.  My nose absorbing it like the dirt prepared for the bombardment of liquid about to fall upon it.  It is a fresh smell that is so in contrast to the odors of the everyday arid air that the scent alone elicits some distant childhood joy in watching and perhaps playing in the rain.

The aroma is not the only beauty of a desert rain; you can spot the storm for miles and the clouds descend the mountains and the crisp blue sky turns into a vertically smeared gray.  A rain is a refreshing wash to the dusty dry people that inhabit the desert.  It was much enjoyed this evening.

The issue was briefed and the state was allowed to continue with the prosecution.  It finally ended last Friday with a verdict of “Guilty”.  Although it was good to finally get a trial done and have come out victorious, the legal issue battle will now be brought up in an appeal where once again both sides will have a chance to argue that their version of the law is correct.  While the appeal is in progress the sentence will be on hold…still I’ve managed to get a conviction by trial.  Hopefully it is the first of many.

In order to get their from Reno on time you have to take a super early morning flight and arrive at a somewhat weird time.  At DFW you meet up with some other travelers and are shuttled to the conference hotel.  It is at the same hotel every year.  When I went for the first time in 2003, the first night included electing the National Chief and National Vice Chief.  Before the actual election began in the evening there was a reception where basically those running for office try to work the room and make an impression.  Those who have been before or have been well coached really know what they are doing.  I did not.

After that the 40 something chiefs are locked in a conference room.  Speeches are given in rounds, each round cutting out half of the contenders.  I ran just because it seemed like almost everyone did.  Shockingly, I made it into the second round at which point I had no plan of what to say.  Unsurprising, I did not make it to round 3.  The process takes a long time and no one is allowed to leave the room until a chief is picked.  When there are only two candidates left, the group picks three or so questions for each candidate to answer and final tally is taken and a new National Chief is selected.  The process is repeated for National Vice Chief and by the time its all done it was past midnight.

The next morning, the Regions break off and select their Region Chiefs in a similar fashion.  The room is intense as we are all close (especially in the west) yet you are still running against each other.  There are only 13 votes so you can usually get a pretty good idea of which votes go where.  It was a close race in 2003 with what many would have assumed to be the clear frontrunner coming up short of the win.

One the new chiefs were selected, it was time to start planning for the 2004 National Conference at Michigan Iowa State in July (several thousand Scouts from across the county participate).  The committees broke off and elected youth leaders for each committee in a similar way as the national officer voting.  In my committee, the Founders Day Committee, the voting was deadlocked, tied round after round.  No electors would back down so finally the two candidates picked a number or something just as random to select our leader.  After a leader is selected, we plotted what we wanted our committee to do, what our day of the conference would look like and split our responsibilities.  I was placed in charge of the Goodman Games, a teamwork competitive venue on the last day of the conference.  The next days were spent laying down the groundwork for would be 7 months of intensive planning.  Everything from budgets, staffing, logistics, and execution would have to done well.

Just as quickly as it got off to a dramatic start, the conference ended.  I left with a set of goals and lots of work to complete.  Perhaps more importantly than any actual substance completed, I left with a good understanding of how the meeting and specifically the election of national officers went down.  I would be ready for next year to make a strong run at one of the offices and having seen the process, I would have a leg up.  When the plane landed back in Reno, I had a vision for what would become my 2004.  It was time to get to work.

February was also the month my sister and her husband decided to move from Reno to Washington; leaving me as the sole Armstrong (at least of our family of four) in the Biggest Little City.

The spring marched on as I got used to finally living alone.  It was a nice change of pace although certainly more quiet without having roomies.  The tough part of having a temporary position is that you know it comes to an end.  In preparation for my predetermined termination date of 6/30/2011, I applied for jobs here and there.  There were hits and misses and nothing really came together in time.  It is also hard to get to know your coworkers well only to ditch them once you’ve really hit your pace.

June 30 came and went and I had no job so it was time to go into super job hunter mode.  I lucked into a contract position with firm doing some pretty interesting complex civil legal stuff.  It was good because it at least gave me some income; oh, and the people I was working with were completely awesome too.  At the same time, Senator John Ensign had resigned due to his sex scandal and an impending possible expulsion by the Senate.  Governor Sandoval appointed Congressman Dean Heller triggering a special election for September.  Perhaps it was my desire to have some inside info on the campaign or perhaps the house had just been too quiet but I volunteered to have some Kate Marshall staffers crash at my place.  It was welcome activity in the house.

Then it happened.  I was typing away at my contract job when I got a call in response to a job application that I thought had long passed by.  It was for a grant position doing Domestic Battery and Sex Abuse criminal prosecutions with the AG’s office for three rural counties in Southern/Western Nevada.  I drove down to Tonopah for the interview where I met with a few representatives from the AG’s office and the three DAs I’d be working under.  Shortly thereafter, an offer was made, I accepted and had about two weeks to pack up my things in Reno, find a place in Pahrump and start my job.

It was not a tough decision given the current economy and the sinking feeling that if I didn’t get an actual legal job soon, getting one in the future may get more and more difficult.  It was going to be tough to pick up and leave the family and friends that surrounding me (no to mention the fact that I absolutely loved living in Reno) but duty called.  Would I have told you a year ago that I’d be writing this year’s post from my place in Pahrump? Hell no.  Am I glad I am.  Yes.  The folks back up north ask how I like being in Pahrump and I tell them that while the town isn’t ideal (given my age, the lack of eligible bachelors, and the absence of other young professionals), I really enjoy my job.  Not only the day to day work (which is always different) but the larger mission of combating violence against women and the great people I get the privilege of working with.

Other completely unexpected events of 2011

• my sister becoming pregnant
• a Congresswoman getting shot
• the death of a close adviser
• Tokyo earthquake/tsunami/nuclear crisis
• smooth repeal of DADT
• my ability to navigate Las Vegas
• lack of snow for this ski season