D.C. Chronicles: Day 2

WHITE HOUSE

I was really looking forward to the White House today until we discovered I wasn't on "the list." Dad was on the list, but my name was no good. A guy with a mustache and coil coming out his ear walked up to me and asked for my name and social. We waited about 40 minutes while they did a background check.

You can't take anything in there: no cameras, bags, nothing. After all that screening I was expecting to see some pretty exciting and exclusive stuff, but once we went through another security check they abandoned you to roam free through the first floor. I didn't think it was all that extraordinary. It was very European and looked like a lot of early 19th century homes I've seen in England -- with little or no screening.

I guess most of my White House knowledge and interest stems from NBC's "The West Wing". It's not like I was expecting to see Martin Sheen and Rob Lowe walking around, taking care of business, but I would have liked to see something a little more exciting than unused libraries and china cabinets. The portrait of George Washington (by Gilbert Stuart) was pretty neat. If someone knows how I can get a guided tour of the West Wing, let me know.

NATIONAL GALLERY

We didn't spend too much time here, but I saw some Vermeers which I love, some Rembrandts and some other things I'm sure. I know that's a really lame recap coming from an art historian, but if you really care (and I can only think of one of you who might) ask me about it later.

AMY and RYAN

Amy is my cousin who has been living here with her husband the past four years. They actually live in Maryland so they drove to our hotel, Dad and I got in the back of their car and they drove us around for about ten minutes while we caught up on old times and then they dropped us off at our restaurant for dinner. Dad's idea.

NEW YORK CITY BALLET

Wow. Loved it. So beautiful. Ballanchine's "Serenade" written by Tchaikovsky was impressive. Even Dad likes the ballet, but he likens it to home teaching: the thought of going brings about indifference, but once you're there you think "this is really great".

I love the Kennedy Center. I love the ballet. I love Washington. I could really do well here -- until I ran out of money.

D.C. Chronicles: Day 1

"The lucky daughter." That's what my sister called me. She said that to my dad when she asked about us going to D.C. My dad takes me on little trips with him sometimes. In the past seven years we've been to New York a couple times, Boston, Chicago, Minneapolis and Toronto. I wouldn't say I'm the "lucky" one. I'd say I'm the "unmarried" one who has the freedom to take off on trips. I guess that is lucky. Of course Lisa did come with us to New York both times. She was even married for one of them.

I've only been to D.C. Once. I went there with Maria and Kaila and we had a great time. I also remember us having a great hotel. Dad and I are staying in the Hilton Homewood Suites in downtown D.C. Our hallway smelled like chocolate chip cookies on the way down here.

We had a full itinerary today. The nice thing about traveling with Dad is that I get to be a little kid and let him handle almost everything. I don't have to think about how to get to where we need to go. I just follow. Until we get lost and then I step in. But another good thing about traveling with dad is that we have similar traveling styles. We're both kind of nerds. We love history and museums so I don't need to worry about the people I'm with being bored.

NATIONAL ARCHIVES

I visited the archives last time I was here, but we just looked at the Constitution. There is so much to see there! We scheduled a private tour, which was good so we got a glimpse of everything before we looked around on our own.

Highlights: Of course the rotunda with the Delcaration of Independence, Bill of Rights and the Constitution. We were the first tour of the morning so it was empty. There was a power and reverence in the room.

It's amazing how much they have to keep. They even had some of President Kennedy's doodles during a meeting he was sitting in on. My favorite part was where I got to make (well, edit) my own documentary about D-Day by selecting various clips. The movie played back on a big screen for everyone passing by to see. I could have spent hours there. It exceeded my expectations. I went a little nuts in the gift shop. Nothing like my mom, but I bought a few books.

SUPREME COURT

That was a cool building. We heard a lecture in the Chambers. Our intern/guide was very good. Let me see how many justices I can name: Roberts, Thomas, Scalia? and then the woman's starts with a G...shoot. I was kinda tired at this point. The eleven minute video was really great though. I felt a renewed interest in American History and politics.

THE CAPITOL

I toured this last time I came. Our guide (Dean from New Jersey) was brand new. Considering we were his first tour he did pretty well. But he was totally making stuff up. I knew I couldn't trust everthing he said when he called the paintings in the rotunda "photographs". And when he told a story about one of the paintings with Thomas Jefferson and John Adams he said they were rivals (true) but he also said how Jefferson was still alive when it was painted and how he had the artist paint him more attractively than John Adams who had already passed away (false). Jefferson and Adams actually died within hours of each other.

CAFE MOZART

This restaurant was recommended to me by Newell Dayley, board chair of the ARts Council and Dad's colleague at BYU. It was German food, which I like, but I have a thing where I like to order fish when I go out, especially if trout is on the menu. The watiress scolded me saying "that's not German" in her thick, Japanese accent. I almost said, "neither are you" but that would have been rude. She was good though. She called me "Honey" which, is a little weird, but I prefer it to "ma'am".

Good day. We got our judicial and legislative fill. Tomorrow we'll get the executive branch tour when we visit the White House.

Flirting

Last week I finally made my way to a certain violin-making school downtown to purchase a shoulder-rest. I’ve needed one for awhile – well, I don’t know if NEED is the right word. I really don’t practice my violin. I haven’t been good at it for ten years now since I put it to bed after high school. But I don’t have a shoulder rest anymore. And when I do pick up my violin, it’s useless without one.

I’ve been trying to find a good time to buy one, because when you visit this particular shop, if there is a customer before you, you could be waiting awhile. They do things the slow, old-fashioned way. They don’t even have a register. So I picked a morning when I had some time to kill.

I walked in and of course the guy at the counter was already helping someone. I immediately took a seat by the counter, about five feet from their conversation. I sat, hands in pockets, looking around. I read posters on the wall, studied the metronomes, read about what was coming up at Libby Gardner Concert Hall until I realized I was sitting for a very long time. I looked out the window, checking to make sure no parking attendants were attending to my car; I didn’t bother to feed the meter.

Once I had read everything in the store, I began to pay more attention to Dan the salesman and the girl he was helping. They discussed her violin and how she needed to make sure it was in top condition for her upcoming concert. She was mid-twenties, about 5’5’’, skinny, wearing casual jeans, a hoodie and fancy flats. She wore thick, black eyeliner to match her thick, black hair (I believe Revlon calls it "midnite black"). She had her hair in one of those tossled updos that wants to say "I can look fa-habulous without any effort" but you know she had about 30 bobby pins in there. Kind of a pseudo-exotic look she was going for, but the salesman seemed to really enjoy talking to her – or, looking at her.

This was when I labeled her as a shameless flirt. There was no hiding it: she wore a perma-smile for no reason and spoke in a quieter, sweeter voice as she asked for special favors and expedited service. I was amused and couldn’t help but smirk as I watched Dan the salesman eat it up and respond in a quieter voice with a reasonless smile. He took his arms from his side and placed all his weight on his hands as he perched on the counter, leaning toward her – a very authoritative and masculine position. I watched her for awhile, invisibly shaking my head in disbelief. And then I heard her giggle. That was it. Amusement officially transitioned into annoyance. I sat up in my seat and looked around, attempting to draw attention to the fact that I was still in the room and needed assistance from someone at some point.

An older man emerged from the back to ask Dan a quick question. Before he could return to whatever he was doing, Dan urgently told him this patient young lady (me) needed to be helped. The older man made the decision to finish the transaction with the flirt and asked Dan to help me. Thank you. Finally.

I told Dan all I needed was a shoulder rest. He took me into the “accessory room” and showed me my options. Before I knew what was happening, we were smiling, laughing and entertaining a banter just like with his previous customer. Somehow I had immediately forgiven him for giving in to her female wiles and defaulted into flirt mode myself. That’s when I knew I couldn’t blame the girl. It was Dan the salesman.

I walked out of there with the newest, most expensive shoulder rest they had in stock. I guess I better practice my violin now.

Marco?

It’s been awhile since I’ve seen the mouse. Wait…I’m not sure I’ve blogged about the new mouse. There’s the old house mouse which I think left politely just like I asked him to.

But now we have a new mouse. This one is black, smaller and smarter. None of our trapping devices have seemed to attract him. I was sitting on my couch today, eating my lunch and staring into the kitchen thinking about how I haven’t seen the mouse in about three weeks. Just then, I saw the little devil run behind the refrigerator – maybe from the bathroom, or for an even more horrifying thought: the pantry.

The last mouse sighting was like I said, a few weeks ago. I always see him when I’m sitting on the couch. It was a Friday night when I saw him run behind the television. My reaction was an audible gasp. The air lingered in my throat for about ten seconds. I was frozen, not knowing what to do. I forgot about him as distractions such as phone calls, and visitors led my mind to other concerns. But then an hour later, I saw him again. He ran his same route: from the kitchen along the north wall and behind the television. Only this time he turned the corner, took one look at the mousetrap, did a 180 and then headed back into the kitchen. Clever little bugger.

And then, about twenty minutes later, he came back, only this time he stopped at the trap, stepped toward it ever so slowly, and sniffed around. At this point, I think a quiet, but steady squeal was escaping through the fingers covering my mouth. Should I walk up to him? Should I yell and scare him? Should I take a picture?

As soon as he ran away I headed for the kitchen. He seemed interested in the snap trap, so I decided to put some bait in there. I put some cheese in one and some peanut butter in the other and placed them along his favorite walls.

The next morning I woke up and headed to the traps like a kid heads to their stocking on Christmas morning. Only I was 50% excited and 50% horrified at what I might find.

This is what I found: an empty mousetrap. Not only was there no mouse in there, the peanut butter was gone. I checked the other one to find the cheese was gone. This is no trap; this is a bloody mouse feeder! I just sustained our mouse for who knows how long. For some reason, the fact that the traps were empty before I put new bait in there didn’t even cross my mind the night before. Maria had peanut butter in all of those. This mouse has been licking peanut butter for weeks. I think he’s settled in.

Maybe the kitty at my parents’ house needs to come visit me for a few days. He can sniff out mice in no time.

Chinese Food

So last Thursday marked the Chinese New Year. I had no idea, until some friends of mine invited me to dinner at the Asian Star to celebrate. My friend went to all this effort to make reservations, assuming it would be crowded, but I think our group of eight made up half their customers that night.

To be honest, Chinese food isn’t my favorite. It’s one of those things I crave, and then after two bites I’m done – but that’s typically only the case with places like Panda Express. I’m not really sure what good Chinese food tastes like. My friend Pete took me to Ming’s once and I thought that was pretty good, but I don’t know what to measure it up against. Maybe I need someone to show me some really BAD Chinese food so I can better appreciate the good.

This got me to thinking about the Chinese food I ate growing up. I could be wrong here, but I feel like a lot of families have certain restaurants they went to for Chinese, pizza, etc. – especially when it came to take-out. And we are conditioned based on what we assumed was the standard.

When my mom ordered Chinese take-out it was always from Golden Gate, this little restaurant in Sandy somewhere around the Sandy Mall – I think. I don’t remember exactly. I’m pretty sure it’s long gone because this was 20 years ago.

Sometimes we’d eat there, but mostly Mom picked it up and brought it home. She always ordered ham fried rice, lemon chicken, sweet and sour pork and then pot stickers. So that was Chinese food to me. Any and every other Chinese dish I ate was compared to the way Golden Gate made it. I remember one time; I ordered sweet and sour pork from a different restaurant when my family went out to eat. It was smothered in this bright red sauce and I thought, “This is NOT sweet and sour pork.” I may have even said it out loud. It wasn’t until much later, after I had sampled a variety of Chinese restaurants, that I discovered there are many different ways to make the same dish.

Anyway, I thought the Asian Star was pretty good. I ordered General Tso’s chicken because I remember when I went to Ming’s; Pete told me that was the best dish. Everyone at our table ordered it except me. I ordered the cashew chicken and I must admit, it was a mistake. I have to say, I liked General Tso's at Ming’s better. But overall, the Asian Star had good food. After going to several Chinese (and I’m going to add Thai) restaurants around Utah, I’ve decided the smaller it is, the better the food. And for some reason, if the owner’s kids are in the back room watching cartoons on TV that’s a good sign as well.

This was my third post in a row about food by the way. I’ll try to think of something different next time.

Totally off the subject…

Here is a slide show of pictures from my birthday party in December. I thought I posted these, but I guess I forgot. They are way overdue. I couldn’t help but notice in most of the pictures with Dre, she was the only one aware of the camera – which is funny to me.

Breakfast Platter Deluxe

I've been reading through a lot of my old journals lately. It's what I do when I want to read, but I don't have any magazines around and I don't want to commit to a book. I can entertain myself to no end with my journals. I stayed up for two hours past my bedtime a couple weeks ago reading about my adventures and misadventures in 2002. I documented a lot of dreams I had which was fun. I thought I would flip through these pages and post the most exciting entry on my blog, but instead I'm going to post the most boring.

But first, let me say that I love sharing my dreams. Personally, I think they're hilarious and packed with symbolism, but my sister once told me how my dreams are really boring. "They're just like a normal day" she said. It's true. I don't dream in sci-fi or action/adventure. So if my dreams are boring, imagine what a typical day for me is like.

Instead of boring you with one of my dreams, I'm going to bore you with an entry about a normal day: December 12, 2002. What I love about this is how revealing it is when it comes to the way my mind tries to work to make even the simplest decision.


All I really wanted was hash browns.

Well, first all I wanted was toast with peanut butter. But then I discovered that we don't have any peanut butter in my house so I thought, "I'll just pick up something at McDonalds." So I stop at the McDonalds downtown thinking I wanted pancakes and hash browns. The hash browns were important. I drive up to the menu. They have a pancake platter. They have a pancake platter with eggs and sausage. Sausage? Gross. No sausage thank you. That platter was $2.79. I guess I could get that, but I wanted hash browns. A side of hash browns was $1.29, but I needed something more than that. The only other pancake platter that included hashbrowns was the Breakfast Platter Deluxe. That was only a dollar more than the $2.79 one. I usually try to not spend more than $3.00 at fast food drive-thrus but this was a special exception because breakfast is the most important meal of the day. So I order the Breakfast Platter Deluxe: two pancakes, two english muffins, "scrambled" eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns. Now that is a lot of food. The sausage and one of the english muffins went straight into the trash and I barely ate the pancakes and the eggs. But man, those hash browns were good. (End)


I don't remember the last time I did fast food for breakfast. I'm usually pretty good about eating before I head out the door. But it's typically cereal or toast, or if I feel like it, eggs. I LOVE breakfast food: pancakes, french toast, and cheese blintzes are good. My favorite is the international breakfast at IHOP where you get the crepes, toast and the eggs (over medium) and the bacon. But for some reason, a big breakfast tastes best around midnight. Like right now, I could really go for some breakfast.

Bad Food List

It's lunchtime. I still don't feel like eating. I've consumed maybe 800 calories since Saturday morning. Most of those calories were Sunday's since I spent most of Saturday crawling around, sipping small doses of Coca-Cola.

I've been sick with a stomach thing. I'm thinking it was something I ate Friday night. And I'm afraid it was the chocolate Aztec tart from the Red Butte Cafe. I don't want it to be true because that was my favorite dessert, but now I may have to add it to my “bad food” list. Does anyone else have to banish food from their diet once they've gotten sick off of it? My list isn't that long because I don't get sick that often, but here is my list:

1) Rice Pudding: I really liked rice pudding for awhile. But then one day, when I was maybe 12 or 13, I went to brunch at the Homestead in Midway. Probably not the best move since I wasn't feeling that great anyway. But I ate rice pudding there. And the rest is history. I might be able to choke it down because it has been a long time, but even the thought of the texture makes me tighten my lips and the memory of the taste makes my throat contract.

2) Kentucky Fried Chicken: This was also when I was much younger. All I remember about this experience is being sick, curled up over the heater vent in the family room with a blanket, wishing I hadn't eaten that chicken earlier. And I haven't eaten KFC since. Even the smell makes me sick. And it doesn't even have to be the chicken...the smell of the potatoes or coleslaw or biscuits. It all smells the same to me.

3) Chicken Pot Pie: Ew. I don't remember why or when. But the thought of it does something to me. Must be a repressed experience.

4) Meat Pies. Kind of along the same lines as #3, but this is more specific to whatever fried crap I ate when I was in New Zealand in 2003. They had a lot of sausage pies or deep fried other things. I missed out on about 2 days of my time in New Zealand because I got sick...yuck. I can't even think about it.

5) Aloha Sushi and the Hawaiian Pork/Rice at the Hawaiian BBQ place. These items are different in that they are specific to the places I ate them. I've since eaten a lot of sushi at other places. Not sure if I've had Hawaiian pork again, but I bet I could. Anyway. I had the sushi for lunch and the pork for dinner one day about a year and a half ago. Late that night I got sick and I haven't been back to either of those places.

And now I have to add the chocolate Aztec tart. And maybe pasta salad. I hope not – probably not. But yesterday when Carri came home, she looked in the fridge and asked if she could have some of my salad. I said, “Ew. Yes.” In fact, everything I've eaten since Friday night has had to be something I didn't eat on Friday. And that includes the pasta salad.

Oh, and this is my 100th blog post by the way. I was reading Ilene's blog awhile ago and she congratulated herself on her 100th post. I thought to myself, “hmmm... I wonder when my 100th post was.” So I counted them up and I had 99 posts. Wow. That was a coincidence. And it goes to show how much more often Ilene posts on her blog. I think I've had mine for almost a year longer than she has.

Thanks Grandma

Last night I blew off institute (again). And it was the best decision I’ve made for myself all week.

As you can tell from my last post, I haven’t been the most pleasant person lately. I decided yesterday morning as I was waking up too early (too early is when I make most of my decisions) that even though I should go to institute, I wanted to visit Grandma Durham instead. How and when visiting Grandma Durham shifted from the “should” column to the “want to” column I’m not sure, but I was looking forward to it.

Coincidentally, she called yesterday morning to ask how my dad was (she likes to call me every once in awhile to talk about various family members and her concern for them). I asked if I could come visit her around six o’clock. I certainly wasn’t expecting dinner, but she felt compelled to make me something. So she asked if I wanted to split a Lean Cuisine with her. I laughed and told her that would be just fine.

When I walked into her house she had two plates on her kitchen table. It looked like we were splitting some yams too. And some parsnips. And applesauce. As soon as dinner was ready she said, “What we’re going to do is pretend we said a prayer and then go in my bedroom and watch political coverage of the Florida primary. I am HOOKED on all this political stuff.” I love how Grandma is obsessed with the presidential campaign. When she took me to breakfast for my birthday she gave me a rundown of the candidates and how she felt about each one of them.

So we went into her room and sat on her bed.

“Do you like Keith Olbermann?” she asked,
“You know what, I don’t have cable so I haven’t watched much of him but he seems pretty intelligent.” She then added…
“I love Keith Olbermann. I think he’s handsome too, but he talks too fast.”

We watched some MSNBC and some Seinfeld. Then we talked about President Hinckley and how he used to be her stake president. She told me about the article written about him in the Deseret News since she knows I don’t get the paper. I had a really nice time with her. She scratched my back and played with my hair. There’s nothing like a Grandma to give you unconditional love and pampering. Of course I had to answer a series of questions:

“Who shovels your walks?”
"How many girls live with you?"
“Is your neighborhood safe?”
“Do you lock your door?”
“Do you turn on a light at night?”
“Are you worried about Lisa?”
“Are you worried about Josh?”
“Are you worried about Jack?”

Once I answered everything to her satisfaction I got up from her bed to leave. As we walked to the door she tried to give me things.

“Do you need any clothes?”
“No.”
“Does Lisa need any clothes?”
“No.”
“I have this jacket here.”
“Yeah, it’s not really my style Grandma, but thank you.”
“Would Lisa like…”
“It’s not Lisa’s style either.”
“Look at the fabric on the inside; you can wear it either way.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” She finally admitted,
“The inside is even worse isn’t it.”
“Yes it is.”

“Do you need any perfume?”
“NO.”
“Can I get you a glass of water?” At this point we’re standing at her kitchen table.
“What about a candle?” she laughed, as she pointed to the candles sitting on her table. I picked one up and smelled it -- not bad. I began to take it with me until she insisted, “Put that back.”

And then I was out the door. Grandma was definitely the cure for my bad mood. I’m lucky to have an 88 year-old Grandma that in addition to the general “how are you doing” conversation likes to talk about important things and current events. If it’s OK with her, I hope she’s around for a long time.

Congelato

This is a photograph of one of those coin-operated binoculars. I shot this almost two years ago when I went to Niagara Falls. I think this machine is a good metaphor for me and how I've been these past two or three days. Interpret as you will.

I've been in a bit of a crummy mood. I haven't posted anything for a week, so I thought I should put something up. I'll snap out of this funk soon. But in the meantime, I'm going to blame it on the cold weather. And my stupid, temperamental furnace.

Lazy Scouts

Today I got an email from an employee of a certain Department titled “Girl Scout Cookies.” I rolled my eyes knowing it was someone taking advantage of the hundreds of email addresses at their disposal to sell cookies for their niece, sister or grand daughter or something. I opened it anyway. Yup – a grand daughter.

Delete.

I remember an order form in the staff kitchen last year, taped to the refrigerator for me and all employees to order Girl Scout cookies. I don’t remember whose lazy kid that was.

Maybe this doesn’t bother you, but as a former girl scout who had to set time aside after getting her homework done to go door to door selling cookies, I resent this a little.

I remember getting in my little Brownie uniform, putting on my sash and walking up and down the neighborhood. I remember my dad dropping me off at the grocery store on 106th South (now the Living Planet Aquarium) and setting up a card table with boxes of cookies and selling them to people before they bought their groceries. I also remember setting up a station on the north side of my house where all the Junior High School kids walked past after school. That spot was golden.

Granted, reaching the masses via email wasn’t an option back then. But I never asked my dad to take an order form to his office and pass it around to his colleagues and students; I was expected to sell the cookies myself. I guess the thought of a 9 year-old making sales via Mommy and Daddy while she chills by the Pepperwood pool watching Hanna Montana on her video iPod pisses me off.

Or maybe I just had a lot of spoiled classmates growing up.

I don’t know, are these kids spoiled or are they smart to tap into every resource possible? I can’t decide. All I know is I’m not ordering from a faceless Girl Scout. I’ll buy from the girl who sets up shop outside Albertson’s or the girl who comes to my door wearing her uniform.

Or maybe I’ll jump on the “Cookie Ban” Bandwagon because they make kids fat:

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,255421,00.html
(so ridiculous – yet entertaining).

Musings on Mendelssohn

Every now and then I'm inspired by something that consumes me for several days. It either moves me to learn something new, or change my outlook and behavior. It's strange -- those two examples I linked and the one I'm writing about today are all related to music in one way or another. Which makes sense; music has been a foundation for my life. Growing up with musicians as parents (and grandparents) will do that to you.

I had a goal this year to learn and perform a new piano piece. The last few numbers I've performed in public have been in my portfolio since college so I can pull them out when asked and do pretty well. You'd think I would have those pieces memorized, but I don't. I have been so lazy. It's well past time to expand my measly repertoire.

A couple weeks ago I popped “Once” into the DVD player. There's this scene where Markéta Irglová plays a gorgeous piano piece. I was mesmerized and decided I was going to learn to play it. So I scrolled through the credits to find it was Mendelssohn's “Song Without Words.” A couple weeks ago I was asked to do the musical number in Sacrament Meeting for today. I went home last Sunday night to find the piano music for "Song Without Words" (my mom has everything). Little did I know, “Song Without Words” is an entire book filled with many wordless songs. I started playing a few until my mom said, “Which one do you want to play?” Without letting me answer she said, “I'll show you my favorite.” One of the reasons I love my mom and why I'll always need her is that if I see a song and want to know how it goes, she can sight read just about anything. I think it was “Meditation” she liked. I tried to play it but I knew it would take me more than a week to learn. So I played through several trying to find the piece from the movie. Turns out the piece is actually called “Venetian Boat Song No. 2.” I played through it all right and thought I could learn it. As I'm leaving, my mom asks me, “So what are you going to play?” When I told her the “Venetian Boat Song” she said, “That's a little haunting isn't it?”

The next day I had 5 emails from my mom, each with a different audio file from the Mendelssohn Book (I love how helpful she is). She included the one she played for me, the piece from “Once” and this other piece called “Elegy” which is what I ended up learning instead. I'll save the Venetian Boat Song for some other time. 

I've been listening to those audio files Mom sent me all week. So now that I'm in love with Mendelssohn, I've done some research. Young Felix was artistic in many areas and a bit precocious. Unlike most geniuses, he had a fairly normal and happy life. He grew up in a loving Jewish family who converted to Christianity when he and his three siblings were young, and he enjoyed a long and happy marriage. Some critics say he would have been another Bach or Mozart if he had suffered more in life, as the "tortured artist" cliché dictates. Although, nearly a hundred years after his death, the Nazis tried to discredit him, taking down his statue in Leipzig, and even going as far as forbidding the study and performance of his music. So...good thing he wasn't alive for that.

Playing the piano is one of the few things I truly, truly enjoy. I took violin lessons for several years, and I own a beautiful violin, but I remember after forcing myself to practice my violin, I would retreat to the piano, sometimes for two-hour sessions and play everything I could find in the piano bench or stacked on the sides of the keyboard. I was lucky to grow up with a beautiful baby grand in the house. I miss it. I really do. Every time I go to someone's home and see a piano, my heart aches a little. I think sometimes I stare at it, wondering if I would be allowed to play it. I've started a piano fund so someday I can afford to buy one for myself.

In the meantime, I will have to practice other people's pianos. My Grandma Durham likes it when I come and play her piano, so I went there Wednesday night to work on my piece. But around 9 PM she politely walked in and said, “Now it's time for you to go.” What she meant was it's time for her to get in bed and watch Jon Stewart. I can always practice at my parents' house in Sandy. But if I practice while they're there, I hear teaching voices coming from rooms all over the house. “Whoops, Laur!” or “E flat Laura!” or, “Wait...you're playing this tomorrow?” It's actually more helpful than annoying. This is how I learned the piano growing up. My mom gave me an occasional lesson but most of my instruction was just as I described. Yesterday I got an “Oooh!” and then silence. I didn't know what that meant so I said, “What? Isn't that the right note?” to which my mom answered, “No, but it should be.”

"The least appealing creature on the planet-ee..."

The new exhibit at the Rio is a children's book illustrators show. This is different from any show we've ever done because a) we shipped it in from D.C. and b) it meanders from our mission which is to only exhibit Utah artists. This has one Utah artist and 79 other artists from other states and countries.

We have 80 original illustrations from 80 different children's books. We also have all the children's books. They're in my office. All over. I feel like I'm in a bookstore. I love children books, but so far, I've only taken the time to pick up one of these, and that is Jonathan Lithgow's "I'm a Manatee". (It made me think of my friend Scott who is obsessed with manatees -- like he collects figurines). Not only did Lithgow write this story, he included a CD where he sings the story. I just spent an hour trying to convert the m4a to an mp3 so I could upload the song to my blog, but too many things went wrong so I decided to forget it. Come to my office and I'll play it for you.

My cousin Monica told me about Jonathan Lithgow's books last year. Apparently he's won all these awards. I'm not in the loop when it comes to appropriate material for children because I don't have any, but apparently you need to be careful which children's books you buy -- especially when it comes to celebrity authors. And then there are the shows you let them watch. There are all these kids shows on that I hear people talking about. In fact, Sunday night I was at my niece's 5th birthday party and my family was sitting around talking about television. My brother Carter started the conversation. What used to be "So I was watching the Simpsons..." is now "I was watching Spongebob and it was the one where he..." and then my sister brought up the latest on Yo Gabba Gabba. Has anyone watched Yo Gabba Gabba? It's bizarre. But kids are crazy about it.

I'm familiar with only a few kid shows these days. I don't have cable, but everyone else does, so through them, I've been introduced to the Backyardigans (I still have the mermaid song memorized after singing it to Jack over and over and over) and my personal favorite, Wonder Pets. Lisa showed me Yo Gabba Gabba, but I don't get it.

Anyway, friends with kids, bring them to Gallery Stroll this Friday from 6-9 PM. I think they'll like this show. And if they don't, they can hang out in my office and look through all the picture books. And friends without kids, grown-ups will like it too -- all the workers in the building LOVE it (It's one of our more accessible shows). As always, there will be free food.

Old Things are Done Away

Last week I was watching the Today Show (my most referenced show when I bring up random information). They had this chef who said something about replacing all your spices and seasonings once a year. Uh...what? I thought spices kept for years and years. I don't know why I thought that...nobody told me that. I think I just thought that because I have spices that I've kept and used for years and years.

For example: This curry powder. Not only have I had this for years, I swiped it from my parents' house who have had it for years. I'm a little afraid to ask, but I'm pretty sure my mom got this as a wedding gift along with other expensive spices. That's 34 years ago. I'm not even kidding. There's no reason for me to have kept this for so long; a more current curry bottle sits in the cupboard.

This got me to thinking about other things I've held on to for much longer than I should have. I am NOT a pack rat. I like space and organization. I like to throw things away. In fact, I have a rule that if I have more clothes in my closet than hangers, something has to go (that's a loose rule, but it works pretty well).

But for some reason, after 7 years I still have these shoes. Owning shoes for 7 years isn't that strange, but owning THESE shoes for that long is. It's not like they're made from quality material -- they're not even cute. They cost me like $13 at Payless, but they've held up remarkably well. Except for the sole on the inside of the right shoe...I have to straighten it out every time I put it on, or else it bunches up. Why do I keep these? I have other shoes. Maybe I keep them because they're trashy and I don't care what happens to them. I should get rid of them.

Next we have these glasses of mine. Are they out of style? I don't even know anymore. I have two pairs of glasses: the newer ones I got about 3 years ago back when I paid for a vision plan. I probably wear those more often than these because the prescription is more accurate -- I guess, I can only assume so because I've had these black ones for about 6 years and one's prescription changes. I wear contact lenses about 75% of the time. A lot of my friends have joined the 21st century and gotten their eyes lasered. I've heard that pregnancy can change your vision and so I've been told to hold off until after I have kids. So I'm going to use that excuse instead of the real one which is that voluntarily having my eye cut open freaks me out.

Ah, the perfume. I don't even know how old this is. But Lisa probably does, because its hers. When she moved out of Mom and Dad's house (4 years ago?) she left this and so I adopted it into my possession. I've probably used it twice in the past 2 years. I'm not a big perfume wearer. I don't think perfume (in this form) is as popular as it used to be now that most girls slather themselves with smelly lotions. I also have Chanel Chance and Stila something or other. I remember a conversation with a couple guys last fall about perfume and how it smells different on different people. Maybe I should try it all on and have people smell me and let me know which ones I should get rid of. Of course, it's a matter of preference on the other end as well. Lis, if you want this perfume, its yours. Because it is. Yours.

OK, so this is a small blank book which I have no intention of getting rid of. I just can't believe I haven't filled it up yet. The first page is dated March 21, 2004 and I'm only about 30% through it. The reason I can't believe it's not used up is because I'm a big writer. I write a lot. Every day in fact. I started a daily journal when I was 21 and I would fill up a whole book in 3-4 months. I think I lapsed somewhere between 2005 and most of 2007 where I hardly wrote in my journal for reasons I'm not sure of. But I started again in November, and beginning in January I have been writing 3 lines every day in this 10-year journal I have. And then my blog keeps me writing about twice a week. But this book is different. I designated it as more of a church journal where I bring it to my Sunday meetings, institute, etc. and write down notes, impressions, etc. I guess I haven't been very good at that.

So those are some of my things that I just can't seem to get rid of. I'm giving Carri the curry canister because she wants to keep coins in it. Maybe I'll trash the shoes tonight. I'm going to keep the glasses because it would be stupid to throw them away. It's always a good idea to have a spare pair in case I lose or break the other ones. I have no reason to hold on to that perfume but I will. And I am committing myself to bring this little blank book to church every week and write something in it.

“Welcome back to the State Capitol.”

I am thrilled to be a Capitol volunteer this week. Last night was my first shift. It was so much fun walking around and talking to all the visitors. I learned a lot about this building and was able to add some of my own knowledge from my years with the Arts Council to the fact mix. Every day at noon, there are lectures in the rotunda given by the architects, artists or other craftsmen.

My ward is actually visiting the Capitol tomorrow night for FHE. I'm still deciding if I'm going or not since I will be there every day this week.

Would you like a tour? Excellent.

My name is Laura. I will be your guide. Utah's Capitol has just undergone a $220 million renovation. This amount includes the seismic upgrades, the two new buildings to the north, art restoration, new sculpture commissions and landscaping. 510 cherry trees were planted this past fall (that's more than the D.C. Capitol) so in the spring it should be gorgeous.

First, I will take you to the Governor's Office. This is actually his “ceremonial” office. The governor sits behind this desk to sign bills and speak to the camera. His “working” office is behind that door straight ahead. The door to your left leads to an elevator that takes Gov. Huntsman directly down to his vehicle. Whether that's true or not we'll never know because neither you nor I am allowed to open that door. The frames around these doorways are really metal, painted to look like wood. However, the desk, table and bookshelf is actual wood. The furniture was carved from trees that fell as a result of the 1999 tornado that hit Capitol Hill and Memory Grove. The wood is sycamore maple and Japanese pagoda. But the paneling on the drawers is Lindon wood. Isn't that great? I would love to have a desk that was carved from something memorable like that. It sounds so much cooler than “I got this on clearance at Target.”

No, you may not sit in the Governor's chair.

You'll notice the gold wallpaper. This wallpaper is new with the renovation. It is pure silk imported from China. Please, do not touch the wallpaper. You'll also notice these light bulbs on the wall. They are replicas of the original Thomas Edison light bulb.

Let's step upstairs and across the rotunda to the House of Representatives, shall we? In the House, votes are recorded orally, but in the Senate they are written and tallied anonymously. Just tradition. I really don't know why. I'd make up a reason but someone would call me on it. Straight ahead and behind you are murals that are original to the building, but the murals to your right and to your left are new.

The mural to your right was painted by an artist in Logan. This portrays Seraph Young, a 23 year-old niece of Brigham Young, casting her ballot during municipal elections in Salt Lake City to become the first woman in the U.S. legally to vote. I think that's pretty cool.

Let's walk downstairs to the “Gold Room”. This is the State Reception room, where the Governor hosts national and international dignitaries, but people call it the Gold Room because it's so fancy. This is the most expensive room per square foot in the Capitol. There is $2 million worth of gold leafing. The style is very Rococo (ornate). The only other buildings in Salt Lake City with this style would be the Governor's Mansion and the Joseph Smith Memorial Building. The tapestries are Italian, the table is Russian and the mirrors are imported from France.

If you want to step out into the Rotunda again, I'll tell you about these sculptures. These niches were made originally in the Capitol for this purpose, but the State didn't commission an artist to carve sculptures for them until these past few years. Before, we just stuck random busts in there. But now you will see four very large, allegorical sculptures. Each sculpture depicts a different concept and each has a larger figure mentoring a smaller, younger one. This one is Arts and Education.

Here is a picture of a picture of my stake president taking a picture of the sculptor at work.

It is 165 feet up to the dome from the floors in the rotunda. The seagulls painted in the dome are original to the building, but over the years, artists have added more seagulls. So during the renovation they took away all the "additional" ones. There were plenty in the first place if you ask me. The largest seagull has a wingspan of 4 feet, if that helps you comprehend the size.

Well, there is much more to see. I was sad to miss the re-dedication ceremony on Friday afternoon, but I wasn't invited, so it was pretty much out of my control. Fortunately, I have more important co-workers who got tickets to attend. Because they love me, they brought me a program and snagged a little commemorative bell for me too. Thank you Jim and Lila.

Being a volunteer is already a great experience though. I got a certificate signed by the Governor, Lt. Governor, Speaker of the House, President of the Senate and my famous first cousin once removed, Supreme Court Chief Justice Christine Durham.

All the volunteers and volunteer coordinators were great. They provided a break room for us with snacks and this soda fountain. You may not know this about me, but Dr. Pepper is one of my favorite drinks ever, but I don't allow myself to drink soda very often. I never order it when I'm out to eat, but if it's available for free, especially in fountain form, I'm ecstatic. However, when I dispensed myself a cup, to my shocking disappointment I couldn't taste it. That is when I knew my cold had gotten the better of me. The mucus has masked all my taste buds. I was in denial through that whole bag of tasteless Sun Chips a couple hours earlier, but now I believe it. I am officially sick. Hopefully I'll regain my senses in the next few days so I can take advantage of the sweetness of free Dr. Pepper.

Merry-thon Week

It’s been a great week. I don’t know about you but I went from celebration to celebration all week. Our Italian Christmas Eve was fun and then Christmas day was spent opening presents, making brunch for my family and then watching old cartoon Christmas specials with Lisa and Katie. Then there was the scaled down Durham Christmas Party (due to snow and sickness) on Wednesday and then my fabulous birthday party on Friday. I’ll have to bug Lisa to send me pictures from that because I didn’t have time to take any pictures. Or eat.

Last night was the "ward" New Years Eve Party. I’ve never really liked New Years Eve, I don't enjoy crowds where I have to push my way through a room, but it was fun because I had friends there. It felt like I was there for a really long time though. Probably because I was. My strategy was to go early so I could get a parking spot.

Now that 2007 is gone, I thought I would make a list of products I discovered this year. I wrote about my loyalties to products awhile ago, so here is a list of new products that I not only liked, but I plan to remain loyal to.

PRODUCT ENDORSEMENTS FOR 2007

Burt’s Bees Tomato Toner and Radiance Day Cream: I love skin care products, but I typically try out new ones all the time. But I plan to remain loyal to Burt’s Bees. I actually noticed a difference in my skin using these, so I’m going to stick with it.

Crest Pro-Health Mouthwash: My dental hygienist recommended this to me when I asked about the effectiveness of mouthwash, because swishing my Listerine actually gives me pain. This mouthwash doesn’t burn my mouth, so I’m converted. Simple as that.

Green Giant Weight Control Vegetable Medley: This is a recommendation from my sister-in-law Kelly. With the exception of peas and corn, I really don’t like the taste of frozen vegetables (I prefer fresh), but this vegetable medley of sugar snap peas and black beans and something else is really tasty. I went to Target and stocked up.

Microplane: My favorite kitchen gadget ever. It’s like a grater but way better. It transforms hard parmesan cheese into a beautiful snow like substance. It’s also great for lemon zest and chocolate.

The Greek Gods Honey Yogurt: After eating yogurt in London and Paris I was convinced I couldn’t find good yogurt in the states, but I tried this, and it was pretty darn close. Thank you Wild Oats.

Propel Individual Drink Mix Packs: I’m trying to save the environment by not buying a lot of bottled water. So this nice product helps me drink my favorite flavored water without having to buy more bottles. But they need to make it in more flavors than lemon and kiwi-strawberry. I don’t like the lemon and I’m getting tired of the kiwi-strawberry.

Lizzy or Elinor?

I'm a sucker for online tests. My mom and sister-in-law told me about this one that tells you which Jane Austen character you are. Being a sucker for Jane Austen, I was on Google before they finished explaining it to me.

Both my mom and Kelly turned out to be Elinor Dashwood. I figured I would be the same, but it turned out I was Elizabeth Bennett. I took it again a few days later for good measure and turned out to be Elinor Dashwood. I realize I can be a walking contradiction, so that only makes sense.

Take the test girls, and let me know who you are. But make sure you take the right test. There was this really lame one with a question that asked: If you were portrayed in a film or TV movie, it would be by...

a) Emma Thompson
b) Keira Knightley or Jennifer Ehle
c) Gwyneth Paltrow
d) Kate Winslet

Please. So don't use the link on the Elinor Dashwood picture. Instead click on Lizzy Bennett and that will take you to a better quiz.

This got me to thinking about how much I love those Jane Austen movies and those scenes I would rewind to watch over and over again. You know which scenes I'm talking about. There's that one when Jennifer Ehle is playing the piano and Colin Firth glances over at her and they lock eyes for what seems like several minutes.

Then there's the one where Mr. Darcy and Lizzy Bennett are out in the rainstorm (2005 version) and they're yelling at each other and you think that they might, just might kiss. Oh and then later on in that movie when Lizzy comes to Pemberly and meets his sister. His sister gets up from the piano and walks over to meet Lizzy. There's this part where Mr. Darcy looks at Lizzy with adoring eyes. The first scene in the movie where he actually smiles I think.

While we're talking about Mr. Darcy, there's a scene in Bridget Jones's Diary (based on Pride and Prejudice) where Colin Firth and Rene Zelwegger are making dinner for her friends on her birthday. Colin glances over at her and watches her and you only pray that someday your own Mr. Darcy will look at you like that.

Am I swooning? OK. I am totally done with this post. Girls, take the test. Boys, you can go vomit now.

Home Alone

I've had the house to myself for the past few days. Now, my two roommates and I are fairly clean people. We are conscious of shared spaces and are generally very good at picking up after ourselves. But I learned something about myself these past few days: If there is no one else around, I WILL spread out.

Exhibit A:I have been known to leave shoes downstairs, or on the stairs occasionally, but these shoes have sat outside my own bedroom door for the past three days. Would it be hard to move them around the corner and into my room? No, not at all.


Exhibit B:

I always try to push my keyboard in and my chair in after I use my computer so Carri doesn't tumble over it when she walks out of her bedroom at 5:30 in the morning. Is it hard to push in my keyboard and chair? No. Why haven't I? Because I haven't had to. Oh, and my desk is never this messy either. I actually tidied up a bit before I snapped this photo.


Exhibit C:
I got a little artistic with this one. This is my gum wrapper I left on the counter in the kitchen. Is this one even a big deal? Not at all. But it's not like me. In fact, I almost threw this away instinctively a few times but stopped myself because I knew I needed to take a picture of it at some point for this post.

Wow. My blog controls me a little bit.

Exhibit D:

My leaving a pillow on the floor accidentally happens, but a blanket AND a pillow? Not to mention the book. Only when there is no one around to see it.

Exhibit E:

This is the best one. Not only did I leave one purse flung over the chair, in the background you can see a second green purse I left on the loveseat. What? Laura uses two different purses in a matter of two days? Yes. It's true. Oh, and the knitting I have sitting on the chair migrates from the couch to the chair to the coffee table on any given day. That's not an anomaly.

I'm happy to report I have since cleared my clutter and cleaned the house. It is ready for roommates again. Well, the downstairs at least. Maria comes home tonight but Carri isn't back until Tuesday so I don't need to clean off my desk or move my shoes quite yet.

Build-A-Phone

This is my phone. I am generally satisfied with it. When I buy a phone, I don’t want a lot of features. In fact, I purposefully bought a phone without a camera, which is getting harder to find these days. I already have a camera, I don’t need one on my phone, and I don’t need internet on my phone either. I don’t even think I want an mp3 player on my phone because then I’d have to mess with headphones. I have an iPod. It’s smaller than my phone. And I like that.

I think it’s a little presumptuous of Samsung or whomever to create a phone with all these features that are useless to me. I don’t play the games on my phone, I barely use the “organizer” and I’ve never used the voice memo.

I think it would be quite clever of someone to start a business where you buy a phone that comes with the standard features: You can make and receive calls, text message and maintain a phone book. And then, just like when you go to build-a-car online, you can add your trim and accessories according to your needs and budget.

I thought of this last night when I was caroling at a nursing home in Bountiful. We started “O Come All Ye Faithful” a little too low so our bass couldn’t really sing his part. Someone said, “Who has a pitch pipe?” Of course no one did, but how awesome would it be if I had a pitch pipe on my phone? It would be so easy. There are 12 notes in an octave – there are 12 number keys on my phone. All I would have to do is switch from phone mode to pitch mode and each key would be a different note. See? Brilliant.

While I’m inventing fantasy features for my phone, here are others I would find useful. And it’s not like the technology isn’t there. I think it could happen.

Microphone
For speaking to large crowds. Or getting the attention of noisy children.

Flashlight
My phone gives off a little light, but hardly anything that can help me make my way down Kristi and Stephanie’s stairs after a late movie night.

Digital Audio Recorder
Yeah, I know there's voice memo, but I need more memory. This would be extremely helpful when conducting interviews for my 15 Bytes articles. I wouldn’t have to mess with an audio tape. I could just plug it directly into my iTunes and import the file.

Universal Remote Control
All the numbers you need are there, the on and off button, volume. Just switch to “remote control” mode.

Yeah. This is a great idea. Move over iPhone.

Christmases Past

Most of my friends are familiar with my family’s tradition of celebrating a different country every year for Christmas Eve. My mom’s side of the family gets together every year and eats the food, sings the songs, and participates in the traditions of that country. The extent of this practice depends on the person hosting the evening. We’ve covered England, Greece, Germany, Mexico, and Poland.

This year we’ve chosen Italy. So we’ll have a lot of pasta, cannoli, and Babo Natale.

But we didn’t always do this. Back in the day we just had a regular American Christmas – well, there was always a pinata. But we ate ham and turkey, sang regular Christmas songs and put on a musical program. When we were really little we did a nativity scene and my uncle Tony read the Christmas story. We’d all change into our pajamas and then my uncle Steve read a children’s book about a dog and some shoes or something? Lis, help me out there. And then Grandpa’s traditional organ concert from 11:30 till midnight at the LDS chapel down the hill continues on.

I was talking to Lisa and we realized we haven’t been documenting our foreign Christmases very well, but Lisa has gathered a lot of photos from Christmases past. So I can thank her for this little slide show.

Oh, I'm glad she didn't scan the one with me in the beret. I'm afraid that was neither a costume nor a French Christmas that year. My only explanation was that it was a gift from Grandma Durham.

It’s funny looking at these pictures, because I never thought about it before, but the living room in my grandparents house looks very similar to that of my parents house with the placement of the baby grand piano against the vertical windows.

I want a piano.
I miss Grandma C.

Small Annoyances

Everyone has those irritable days when even a small annoyance sets them off. I don’t have many of those days. And today actually isn’t one of those days for me. In fact, today, although I’m not feeling very well, I am full of love and gratitude and peace and forgiveness.

But I remember a few weeks ago I was at Roberts Arts and Crafts. It started out as a good day, but just being in that crowded store began a downward spiral.

Do you ever have a hard time committing to a check out line? You walk up there with maybe three or four items and all the lines already have three or four people waiting with full shopping carts. You survey your options. It’s a difficult decision sometimes because despite how many people are in front of you, there are other factors to consider: how full is their cart? Are they making an exchange? Is he buying fragile items that need to be individually wrapped? Is she going to wait until everything is rung up before searching in her purse for a checkbook? Does she look difficult? Is the cashier new?

So that day, as I committed to a line, I soon realized I committed to the wrong line. I stood there in silence, as customers who joined the other lines much later than I joined mine grabbed their bagged purchases and headed out the door. I passively listened to unnecessary conversations and pointless questions at the register. I observed with reserved patience. But after twenty minutes of not moving in that line, my purchases getting weightier in my arms, people bumping up behind me and kids flying past me on their sneaker wheels, I went ahead and decided I hated everyone in that store.

I bring this up because I just found a document on my computer with a list I must have made on one of those irritable days. I think I was saving this for posting on my blog when I didn’t have much of anything to say. So here it is:


Sayings/phrases I could do without:


“That’s hot”
I don’t know why anyone would want to join the Paris Hilton bandwagon…or, join her off the wagon.

“No worries”
Most people who say this to me say it instead of “you’re welcome” when I thank them for something. Or maybe it replaces “don’t worry about it. Which is fine, only I’m not worried about it, I just want to express gratitude.

“Git’r done”
I actually don’t know where this originated, but it’s usually said with a scruffy voice. Maybe if I knew where it came from I would understand the accompanying voice. Whatever, it’s annoying.

“Guesstimate”
It’s not a real word. It means the same as estimate, am I wrong?

“Senior moment”
I actually have no idea why that rubs me the wrong way. Just…just don’t.

Most phrases beginning with “literally” because most of the time, they’re using the word figuratively.

These last three speak for themselves:

“Brain fart”

“Potty mouth”

“Artsy fartsy”


This is funny, because I have a lot of friends and people I really love who use some of these sayings. Don’t take it personally, but if you have any phrases you want to add to my list, please leave a comment.

Closure

I had another dream about the mouse. Oh, I’m sorry; I never shared my first dream. I thought about it, but ended up not posting it. But now that I’ve had two dreams about the house mouse, I think a post is well-warranted.

I never followed up on the poll either. For those of you who follow my blog, you’ll remember the majority believed the mouse just left on its own. I can report that despite the plethora of trapping devices and other deterrents that decorate our house, there is no mouse to be found. At one point, Maria and I thought he might be in the mouse house and we stared at it for several seconds on the table before Maria opened it. No mouse.

So the past couple weeks I’ve dreamed about our mouse. The first dream was really odd: as I was getting ready to leave the house, there was a huge dead mouse in the middle of the kitchen floor – more like a rat. And there were bits and pieces of other mice all around. I noticed this just as some EMTs came up to our door. They weren’t there for the mice (as my sister so deftly pointed out to me, EMTs are not exterminators). I believe they had the wrong house, but I was kind of hoping they’d take care of the mouse mess for me.

My second dream was just last night. Maria and I were getting ready to leave the house to go somewhere. The door was open as we were talking. I was in the living room and she was standing by the door. All of a sudden, this huge black mouse came running in and stopped in the middle of the carpet. He looked bigger than I remember him, but he was really skinny – and super stressed out. He looked more like a frazzled, cartoon mouse on crack. We just kind of looked at him for a minute as he stood on his hind legs, and then he frantically left the house.

So I’m thinking until I get some closure on this mouse thing, I’m going to keep having these dreams. Last week I was at our main office. This girl had a weird rubber mouse and trap on her desk. Like an idiot, I pushed the button that said “push me” and the whole thing lit up and shook as the mouse squealed. I’ll tell you what, I squealed a lot louder than that stupid rubber mouse. On Friday I was at the London Market on 700 East. I saw this cute little gray stuffed animal. I walked over to pick it up and it was a mouse. I disgustedly said, “Ew!” at a more than audible level. People were looking.

Temple Lights Tour

This year has gone by so fast. I can't believe it was time again for the ward's annual Christmas Lights tour on temple square. I remember it being colder last year, although last night was pretty cold too. But last night was definitely the most entertaining.

Our bishop led the tour. Is he an official tour guide? No. And the temple square workers don't like that one bit. But he was wearing a suit and yelling at the top of his lungs so he drew a crowd. And he is very knowledgeable when it comes to church history and symbolism and everything, but I felt bad for the people who latched onto us, because they didn't understand that only half of the things that come out of JP's mouth are true.

The Bishop mentioned he got kicked out of Temple Square before. I thought he was just joking, but after last night I believe it. He kept asking us to keep our eyes out for anyone that “looks serious.” He did manage to get us kicked out of the Visitors Center for giving an unauthorized tour. A nice missionary couple politely watched him for awhile until they interrupted him, shook his hand and asked that we speak to a sister missionary so we can learn a few things. The Bishop said he knows where they are outside and he'll take us to them. But instead he took us to the Museum of Church History and Art. Fortunately a girl in our ward is an official employee of the Museum so she ran ahead and warned them that we were coming.

As we left Temple Square the Bishop turned around and said, “Wasn't that great?! Can you believe we made it out of there? Seriously the fact that we made it out of there is a miracle – considering all the cameras they have on us. And the misinformation.”

Not to mention the laser pointer. He had the laser pointer on the temple showing us the “pilasters” and the sunstones and moonstones and which rooms were which. I mean, it could have easily been mistaken as a sniper.

My two favorite things I learned that aren't true:

1.The columns in the temple are hollow because they wanted to fill them with methane gas so there could be torches at the top that burned 24/7

2.When the Bishop was climbing up the temple for a documentary film, a man opened up one of the windows and started throwing out cyanide for the pigeons. And they had to time it just right so the pigeons wouldn't immediately fall down dead in the bushes, but have enough time to fly away and die somewhere else.

As we walked to Paul's for hot chocolate afterwards, we passed the Bishop's house on West Temple. Bishop glanced over at his house and said, “The guy who lives there is crazy.”