Come All to the Fair

Apparently, I've reached a whole new level of snootiness. In the last two weeks, I've been to two county fairs and the whole thing just escapes me. I'm looking at a sign that says "Kachunga and the Alligator Show," I wandered through the animal pens, I averted my eyes from the pie-eating contest, and decided I'd hold it rather than pee in their scary restroom with two year olds peering under the stall doors. If the "psychic" was reading palms instead of tarot cards I might be swayed.

I should applaud these people for growing and raising and creating things they're so proud of. I should be able to give them their moment to shine without rolling my eyes in derision. When did I become so jaded that I couldn't enjoy this? Is this what living in L.A. did to me?

The Weber County Fair at least had a band I wanted to see. We braved insane wind and air so thick with dust you couldn't see the mountains to see an acappella group called T-Minus Five. Five guys singing harmony made up for the fact that the beer was Coors and Bud Light. You know the band is singing for a conservative county fair crowd when they change the lyrics to Brown Eyed Girl from "making love in the green grass" to "making friends in the green grass." Chickens.

I wonder if they'd let a grownup have a free pony ride.
I wonder what kind of pie they ate for the contest.
I wonder what the psychic would see in my cards.
I wonder where that asian couple got all that cheap Michael Jackson stuff.
I wonder what that cat is going to do to his mistress for making him do "tricks" on a 95 degree day. (His trick tonight is going to be barfing on mom's pillow.)
I wonder when the alligator show is.

Ooh, I really wish I hadn't seen that guy's full moon as he stood up from that table to throw away his leftover funnel cake. . .

Astonished by the Expected

I got out of my 7am final this morning, walked outside and said, "What the hell?!" In the hour and a half I'd been inside, it had started to snow like crazy! I had no umbrella, I had no hood on my coat, and I had no scarf. I shouldn't have been surprised that it decided to snow in Utah, in December, and yet I was!

Freakin' winter!

I have one more paper to turn in tomorrow and a linguistics (or linguini) final on Thursday and I'm done until the new year! Huzzah!

Ballet and the Bard, Part 2

The Tempest was quite lovely on Saturday. You could tell the really good dancers, though, because you couldn't hear them land when they leaped.

One of my favorite parts was the very beginning. They had Shakespeare writing on a blank black stage in a spot light. Ariel then flew in over his head. And poof! There was Prospero, appeared out of thin air. It was very effective.

The second act was mostly wedding celebration for Miranda and Ferdinand, so the gods were in evidence. Juno and Neptune, Ceres and Bacchus, Iris and her rainbows, etc.

Mum and I had lunch at the Hong Kong Tea House in Salt Lake. We did not have the steamed chicken feet, but stuck with some very tasty potstickers and eggrolls. The "silver wrapped chicken" was OK, but far too much work to make it worthwhile. The experience was a hoot and we'll definitely be back.

Ballet and the Bard

My mom and I are going to see The Tempest tomorrow. Not the lovely evocation by Mr. Shakespeare, but the interpretation by Ballet West. Yup, a ballet of The Tempest. And I am SUPER excited! I haven't seen a ballet in years and I think that was The Nutcracker (which I love, by the way).

We're taking Frontrunner (the local commuter train) down to Salt Lake and hoofing it to the Capitol Theatre. The Capitol is a lovely theatre and I've seen everything there from Les Miserables and Jekyll & Hyde to the Utah Opera's Turandot and The Magic Flute. ( I admit I had much more fun at the first two than at the last two.)



Expect a full report on Monday!

Fall Has Fallen

So remember that it snowed like hell here last weekend? Well, here's the exact same photos sans the snow, taken yesterday afternoon.

The snow is all gone, but now you can see the leaves changing color.

The geraniums are gone off the back porch, taken to somewhere they won't freeze this winter, and the swamp cooler has been put to bed as well. No more A/C will be needed until the spring. Fall is here in full swing.

White Halloween?!

The first snow of the year has come to Northern Utah. Yes, you read that rightly. Snow!

And we're not talking a few flakes coming out of the air. It snowed ALL DAY on Saturday. It didn't stick to the roads or the sidewalks, which was nice, but still we got got many inches of goose feathers.

I have to say, I am NOT used to this! I'm used to being able to put the top down on my car on New Year's Eve! I do enjoy a White Christmas, though.

This picture of my backyard was earlier in the day, before it had really started to come down. The first picture was the front yard later on in the day. My cat sat in front of the windows looking outside at the funny white stuff. She acted like she wanted to go outside at one point, but I convinced her that it wouldn't be a very good time.

October 11! What kind of freakish universe is this? And they keep talking about global warming!

A Begrudging, and Yet Lovely, Walk

This past Saturday, my parents and I enjoyed Utah's lovely nature by hiking Wheeler Canyon. It's up the road to Snow Basin, pretty close to home, a fairly leisurely stroll, and pretty damn gorgeous. I didn't have my camera with me, but hey, in this day and age, a cell phone is the next best thing.

There was a red leaf in the background of this one that Mum wanted me to catch with the purple berries, but it doesn't really come through in the photo. (Yes, the leaves are already turning color here. They don't turn in L.A. until January.)




This was much nicer to find in the trail than the huge piles of steaming horse poo we found before.



Tiggers may not like thistles to eat, but they're still rather lovely to look at.

And, yes, as we were walking and trading stories of our first encounters with hard liquor (Hey! That's my next post!), Mum told me of these miraculous walking sticks that exist out there that have flasks in the handles. Sweet, yes?

She's says if I decide to stick around, she'll buy me some. Now that's a mother's love.

Dancin' Fool

Last Saturday, my mom and I went to the Eccles Community Art Center to take an African dance class. It was weird to actually take a class there, instead of teaching one. (We taught two through six year olds how to skip for ten years.) The teaching master was named Ibou Ngom and he's from Senegal.

Since he couldn't remember anybody's name, he just made up names for us. He called me Jessica and Jennifer. I figured, "Whatever. He's adorable." There was a blonde woman who got a little irked when he called her Britney Spears. Full points for her.

The dance style was called Sabar and was a lot of fun. Ibou kept nagging us to keep smiling. It's hard to smile when you can't catch your breath.

After an hour and a half, we "knew" all the steps for a celebration/welcome dance. It was, quite literally, a kick in the pants.

After we had gone home and showered off the copious amounts of sweat, we went to a dinner party at the home of the woman who had organized Ibou's visit. (She also teaches a regular African dance class.) He cooked chicken with peanut sauce for us that was tastiest food I've had in quite a while. There was also homemade hummus, brownies with applesauce, a bulgar wheat salad with cucumbers and feta, and many bottles of wine.

Apparently we crapped out of the party before the real fun began, but we had a great time anyway.

An excellent way to pass a Saturday. And tomorrow? A trip to the Fine Arts Museum in Salt Lake City for a day of Monet, Rodin, and Gainsborough.

And to think of all those people in Los Angeles who thought I'd have no exposure to culture in Utah. I'll show them, won't I?

Sing It, Boys!

When I first got to Utah, my dear Mummy told me about something called A Cappellastock. Think Woodstock, but with super cute guys singing harmony instead of Roger Daltry destroying guitars. Since I'm such a sucker for guys singing together, I thought, "What the hell? Let's go!"

Shortly after that at my TEN year highschool reunion (very weird to think it's been ten years), they were raffling off various different lame prizes. Just when I was looking for the cocktail waitress to bring me another weak gin and tonic, they mentioned two tickets to A Cappellastock. My ears perked up and then they called someone else's name. My old friend Melissa won them instead. Damn!

A couple of the more mormon heads nearby turned around at my involuntary expletive and I, reluctantly, gave them an apologetic look. Melissa, who was just passing through town, was kind enough to give me her two tickets.

After an upgrade courtesy of my dearest mommy, my parents and I were ready to go! Last Saturday, we hauled ourselves down to the Ogden amphitheatre and squatted on the grass until our seats were in the shade.

The pre-show entertainment were the Saltaire's, who are about 25 guys, singing traditional barber-shop songs and a few spiritual hymns thrown in. They were fabulous to listen, but kind of dorky to look at. I say that with all due respect, of course.

The main show started at 8pm and was fan-damn-tastic! High Fidelity was this strange little group that combined Trekkie humor with songs that ranged from Danny Boy to their own orginal Trekkie songs. They made my dad crazy, but I thought they were funny.

Thw two highlights of the evening were Tonic Sol-Fa, who kick major ASS, and XRP which is short for Ex-Rockapella. Yes, the dudes from Carmen Sandiego. Apparently, they haven't done anything in years, but they still sound pretty damn good.

We had a grand old time and I can't wait for next year! And you know what? I'm pretty sure you'd never see this kind of thing in L.A.

The Fair and My Susceptible Sinuses

Now, that I'm back in the land of my people, I'm trying to adjust to those sections of humanity that you just don't really see in L.A.

This morning, for instance, I went to the Weber County Fair with my mummsy. She was manning a booth for a few hours and thought I might enjoy seeing the baby lambs and taking advantage of the free admission on this, the first day of the fair.

We found a whole room full of rabbits, waiting to be judged and were warned that they MIGHT bite us if we touched them. There was an enormous white fluffy one that made me think of Lennie in Of Mice & Men and of the horrible death the bunny would have faced if he ever met Lennie.

There was also a room full of giant, mean-ass roosters that did NOT want to be in cages and were taking it out on the roosters in the cages next to them. Or by crowing at the top of their lungs.

The lambs that were being shown seemed quite put out that they were being made to stand in a pose while a judge prodded their nether regions and looked at their teeth. I saw one that was trying to drag the little girl who was showing it right off her feet.

By this point, my eyes had swollen to twice their usual size and I had enough mucus in my head to make me resemble Jabba the Hutt. Whether it was from the goat dander, the hay, or all the poo, I wasn't sure, but I was ready to get the hell out of there. Especially considering the "beer of the day" was Coors Light. Ick.

I have to say, I highly respect these people for loving this life so passionately and being willing to take on such a daunting task. After all, because they are willing to do it, it means I don't have to see the Giant Hog who weighs over 1000 lbs. Seriously, if you're in the Weber County area in the next four days, you can see it for all of 50 cents. You know you want to...

You Don't See This in L.A.

My dear mummy (who will be here tomorrow, by the way!) sent me these yesterday. (Thanks to her friend Dawn who took them...)

They made me feel nostalgic and a bit homesick. The leaves don't really change in L.A. Not like this anyway. And if they do change at all, it isn't until February.

I remember all the times I had to go trick-or-treating with a big-ass coat over my costume. Cleopatra in her parka wasn't quite the image I was hoping for.


And these? This is what mountains should look like. They call what we have in L.A. "mountains," but they're ever so wrong. Those are "hills." I believe these shots were taken in Sardine canyon, just outside of my home town. Now, none of these mountains can compare to Ben Lomond. Ben, as we affectionately call him, rests to the north of my home town and keeps an eye on us all. He looks ever so handsome when it snows on him. He was always the view out of my bedroom window growing up and he still brings me a sense of peace when I go home.

I'll have to take a picture of him, the next time I'm there. Or maybe I can ask mum to take one for me.

So, here's to leaf-peeping and Ben Lomond.