24th of Maria

Saturday is my friend Maria's 24th Birthday. I'm going to be out of town this weekend, so the Maria Birthday Post must go up early. Last year I remember giving Maria 23 presents for her 23rd birthday. I think 24 presents is just too many, so instead, I'm going to list 24 of my favorite Maria memories:

1 When we were in D.C. you ripped your jeans, so we all went to Express and you bought new ones. Because you needed to wear them out of the store, you walked behind the counter so the clerk could scan the price tag, still attached. I think she thought we were all crazy. Especially me, because I took a picture.

2 One Sunday our friends were buzzing because there was a Laura look-a-like at church and you told me you didn’t get it because “she wasn’t even that fat.”

3 The time we snagged an Albertsons grocery cart someone left along 500 West so we could have something to carry all our groceries up the elevator and down the long Northgate halls to our apartments.

4 A couple years ago you came to the Fellowship Opening. I was really tired because I worked ten hours straight and the artists were stressing me out. You gave me a hug. I needed that.

5 That one time we were playing Apples to Apples at Jon’s house. You know which time.

6 When we went to Denver to see the Foo Fighters with your sisters, you guys drove me to Littleton so I could see my newest niece Piper. That was really nice of you, especially because it took us forever to find it.

7 Our walk/runs. I’d walk while you’d run laps around me.

8 The day I moved into 530 with you and Kaila. You moved all your stuff over to half of the bathroom. It made me feel comfortable, like you were excited to have me there.

9


10 A couple summers ago you and I went down to St. George to Mic’s condo and you asked what the “Fro Stop” was. As if you were high or something. Granted, it reads FROSTOP (You had to be there).

11 Same trip, we started up Angel’s Landing and I thought I was going to pass out from the heat and my little legs were tired so you slowed your pace with me till we both decided we didn’t want to go to the top that bad. So we stayed behind and chatted. I remember what we talked about too.

12 I’m not sure if it was the first day I met you, but it was one of the first times, I admired all your bags hanging on the coat rack by your table. Right then and there you gave me one of them. I still use it.

13 One summer, the ward was playing “Capture the Flag” at Liberty Park and you reached your hand right down Sheila’s pants and grabbed it. This was before I knew you, but I’ve heard the story told so many times I feel like I was there.

14 One night on the cruise, Marni and I went back to our room after dinner while you and Kaila went upstairs to the “club”. It wasn’t long before you came down again, opened the door and said, “They’re playing La Isla Bonita, you have to come up and dance with us.”

15 One Sunday, Jonathan Easterling bore his testimony and told the congregation what an awesome girl you were because of something you did for him that week. I remember being so touched that he would share that with the ward. It warmed my heart.

16 One morning when I still lived up in 619 you called me saying you and Kaila were out of milk and wondered if you could borrow some. Instead of coming to pick up the milk, you both just came upstairs with your bowls and boxes of cereal and ate there.

17 The “Win a date with Jon” contest on the Abel Hour.

18 One night Marni went downstairs to watch a movie with you and Kaila and I was upstairs watching TV at my place. You came up and said Marni told you what I was watching and you said, “A biography on Judy Garland? Are you kidding me?” And you stayed and watched the rest of it.

19 And that just reminded me of one Friday night last year. We didn’t mean to stay in all night, but we ended up watching the three-hour PBS special on Cary Grant. And all his little wives.

20 Any time you recount any story about Ted.

21 That night at Carrabbas when we spent the entire time guessing the names of all Jon's s siblings – thus birthed the guessing game. My favorite subsequent games being with Bryce (who wondered "how do I win?" -- little did he know he doesn't get to win) and then Lex, who had us guessing the name of his brother Lane for almost 10 minutes with our hint being that it had two syllables. The best part was how Lex really thought “Lane” had two syllables. You clapped it out for him like you do when you're first teaching 5 year-olds about rhythm. “Lane! One syllable.”

22 One Sunday when the ward choir (and entire congregation) was performing "Come Thou Fount" for Bishop Pohlman, I realized I forgot ALL the sheet music and had this tremendous fear that no one would know the words and no one would sing and I was stressing out. You took my car home and picked up all the sheet music so we could have it in time for the musical number. This was actually a dream I had, but still, you saved the day in my dream.

23 One night you me and Kaila talked until 3:30 in the morning about movies from our childhood that we wanted to see again and movies that make us cry (mine was the Land Before Time). We couldn't think of the name of this one Disney Movie and had to look it up later (No Deposit, No Return).

24 Two years ago, I went to Austin for the Americans for the Arts Conference. I was walking around the Capitol grounds and wanted someone to talk to, so I called you and you let me talk to you about nonsense for ten minutes.


So here I am headed off to my second Americans for the Arts Conference. This time in Vegas. I think I'll skip the Coca Cola Factory this time. I wish I could be there for your birthday Maria. I feel like I'm missing a lot of good stuff this weekend. Your birthday party, Lagoon, the Tap Recital...someone take a lot of pictures at the tap recital, please!

Happy 24th!

Good ol' Radio

I've been spending more time in my car lately. Not necessarily driving -- sometimes I'm just sitting. If there's a good song or program on, I'll just sit and wait until it's over.

Friday night I pulled into my driveway at 12:30 AM. I was really tired, but I was enjoying the Marie Antoinette soundtrack I burned that day, and I kept wanting to hear what came next. So I stayed in my car a good ten minutes until I decided I should go in.

Movie soundtracks are one of my favorite things to listen to. Not the "various artists" kind, although a lot of those are really good (Reality Bites, Garden State), but I'm talking about film scores. My all time favorites are Gosford Park, The Village, and To Kill a Mockingbird. I even have soundtracks to movies I've never seen before, like King Kong and Henry V, but James Newton Howard and Patrick Doyle are two of my favorite film composers so I'll listen to anything they write.

Lately though, I've been listening to The Age of Innocence and Iris. I've never seen Iris, but Joshua Bell does the solo violin for that soundtrack, and after the article I read about Joshua Bell a couple months ago, I wanted to hear some Joshua Bell so I raided my mom's CDs.

There's a great radio program on KBYU FM called "The Perfect Score". It's produced out of BYU Idaho actually, and every Saturday at 4 PM they play an hour of various film scores, based on a theme. Yesterday the theme was war movies, I think. One time they did soundtracks from movies about the sea or something weird. They did music from The Perfect Storm, Pirates of the Carribbean and The Little Mermaid. I just remember thinking how precious it was that they included The Little Mermaid.

I listen to KBYU FM a lot. I pretty much listen to it all day at work, and I'm becoming more familiar with their regular programs like "Thinking Aloud" and I'm beginning to listen to their "piano puzzler of the day". It's a nationally syndicated program where they disguise a familiar tune in the style of a famous composer. For example, a couple weeks ago, the tune was "I'm getting married in the morning" from My Fair Lady in the style of Erik Satie. It's kind of cool. I'm beginning to look forward to these programs as I'm working at my desk. I remember when I listened to the Abel Hour every day at 11 AM at my desk too (Abel and Jon, I kinda miss you guys).

I really like radio. I try to listen to it in the car. Unlike CDs or even my iPod, I get to be surprised at what comes next. I think these days we almost risk robbing ourselves from new experiences because with iPods and TiVos our lives are so programmable to our tastes. Don't tell me I can put my iPod on shuffle and be surprised, that's not what I'm talking about. And I'm not saying iPods and TiVos are bad. I'm just saying sometimes I'll hear something on the radio that I never would have chosen to listen to at that particular time, but because I didn't choose it, it reaches me in a way I didn't expect. And sometimes it really touches me, leaving a lasting impression. But do I end up listening to a lot of crap inbetween the good stuff? Yes, I do. So that's when I turn the CD player on, but by the time I think "Let's see what's on the radio now" I usually hit the end of a song I wish I heard the beginning to. It's a gamble.

Another radio program I try to listen to is "Showtunes Saturday Night." I never listen to Kosy 106.5, but I have it programmed in my car just for that particular show. I love Broadway Musicals, and it's kind of fun to play "name that musical" and see what comes up next. When Saturday rolls around I secretly hope I'll be in my car between 8 PM and midnight so I can tune in and see what they'll play. Last Saturday after a BBQ I had to hit the grocery store, so I tuned in. I pulled in to Smith's Marketplace in the middle of "Stars" from Les Miserables and so I just turned off my engine, turned off my lights and sat in the parking lot until it was over. It made me teary. I don't know why. I also teared up on the way home when they played "I'm Not that Girl." Great song. Great musical. In fact, that song just came up on my iTunes as I write this. It doesn't always make me cry, but for some reason, it did that night.

And then last night I went to an awful BBQ where I just didn't belong. I wasn't happy to be there and I was nearing miserable, so I finished up my conversation, hopped in my car, and I turned on Showtunes Saturday. I felt at home again. Sounds cheesy, I know, but it's nice having something to turn to that will center you. Music can really center me. It's funny because when I'm listening to something I really enjoy, I tend to drive more slowly. Instead of speeding through yellow lights, I slow down. I'll even take the long way home, or I'll go to Smith's Marketplace instead of Albertsons because it's further away. It's worth it to me to have those few extra minutes in my car to listen to my music.

Sushi 101

Last night I was able to satisfy that little part of me that longs for the days before I had a full-time 9-5. I had a glimpse of what it used to be like to work a part time or summer job doing something completely opposite of office work.

I worked as a culinary assistant for Sur la Table and it was so much fun. It was kind of funny too because Melissa, who came to my cooking class last month, was there with her fiancé Brandon. (Brandon Anderson for those of you who know him).

She saw me there and said, “So you took them up on your offer, I guess!” Yes, I did. Last time I was there (see previous post), I was a student in a class and the chef Pamela talked to me about being an assistant and so I interviewed a few weeks ago and they hired me.

If you don’t mind doing dishes, being an assistant is just as great (if not better) than being a student. You learn a lot, you get to eat whatever is left over (which is a LOT) and you get paid for your time. And you get an employee discount.

Pamela is so nice and there were two other assistants there: Brian and Van. They were awesome to work with. Brian could very well be the nicest guy I’ve ever met, and he’s the perfect assistant because he’s a freaking mind reader. He just peruses the kitchen picking up utensils when you need them, moving trash cans closer to you, handing you a wet towel, etc. He would also take over whatever I was doing just in case I wanted to watch the chef so I could learn. What a great guy. Sometimes I forget there are people like that around.

Last night we learned how to make a few different sushi rolls. The picture at the top of this post is Brandon slicing his rainbow roll. I think that one was my favorite. Or there was one I liked that had “crunchies” in it (that’s what the sushi chef called them, it was basically fried tempura). His name was Wil. Well, his real name is something no one could pronounce so we all called him Wil. He was great and really cute when he didn’t know the English word for “squeeze”. The best thing about Wil was how people kept asking him questions about Japan and he would just shake his head and say, “I don’t know.” Yeah, he’s Korean.

I scheduled three days in June to work there again. I like having these little jobs on the side. It’s fun and challenging to venture outside my office job. And a little humbling. A couple years ago I did extra work for Everwood. I think I did that about three or four times. It paid better than this job, but they pushed you around (literally) and treated you like a child – a little alarming to someone used to being treated with respect. Still, I enjoyed the experience.

I did dishes for about 90 minutes straight last night. Coming home exhausted from being on my feet for several hours, my clothes smelling like cooking oil and my fingers shrunken from soapy water took me back to my Food for Thought days in Draper ten years ago. Let’s be honest, my job with the Arts Council doesn’t have me working THAT hard. I mean, it’s a thinking job. I get paid for my ideas and follow-through. Some days I work like a dog, installing shows, moving artwork, running around to meet deadlines, but that only happens two or three times a month. I have a lot of respect for people who are on their feet all day, every day.

Sandwiches

Let me preface this post by saying that I love my dad and he does a lot for my family and me. I talk about my dad a lot because he’s one of my favorite people so what I’m about to write about is more humorous observation than anything.

So yesterday was Mothers Day, right? My mom thought it would be nice if we all went on a picnic to Liberty Park. Cute Mom brought all this stuff for sandwiches; she brought fruit, vegetables, cookies, rice krispie treats and then she brought a cute little cooler for both my sister and me to take home as our gift. I remember one Mothers Day after Lisa and I gave her a gift she said in her sweet voice, “I just want to say that I think it should be called Daughter’s Day.” She may have been medicated at the time, but regardless, it was a sweet thing to say. That’s just the way she is. Always thinking of others even on a day designated for her.

We had a lot of food and she said I should call some friends to come over. So I sent a text out to some friends I thought might be around. I had two takers: Mike and Dan.

My mom loves it when I invite friends to anything so she was thrilled to have them. Mike came first, and I think my parents and Lisa, Josh and Jack were off playing in the water somewhere. But when Dan showed up, about 20 minutes later everyone had returned. I think my mom asked Dan if he was hungry and he said he was and so I walked over to the other side of the blanket and grabbed all the food, I brought it over to Dan and told him what we had available for sandwiches. My mom said something like,

“Laura, did you make Dan a sandwich?”
“Um, I brought him everything he needs.”
“Laura!” she says in a tone that implies I was being very rude.
“What? Dan knows how to make a sandwich.”

Mike made his own sandwich just fine. I always thought people preferred to make a sandwich the way they wanted it. Personally, I thought it was nice of me to bring all the food over to them. I couldn’t figure out why she was so surprised at my behavior until I thought back about a half hour ago at my dad’s behavior. Allow me to paint you a picture.

We have two blankets laid out and a chair. While Mom, Lisa, Josh, Jack and myself crawled around the ground gathering what we needed when we wanted it, my dad reigned over us in the only chair. My mom laid out all the food and during the course of about ten minutes my dad says,

“Hey Beck, can I have some grapes?”
“Mmm…Laur…a carrot and some dip.”
“Where are the chips?”
“Are those dill pickles?”
“Hey, what’s that over there?”
“Oooh, Laur. Grapes.”


My mom said, “Tom, you might actually have to join us down here at some point.”

That was before my friends showed up. But even then, my dad started asking my friends to hand him things.

“Oooh, Mike, see that? Let’s split that lemon bread.” Mike looked truly baffled for a minute and not quite sure what to do.


When Dad was ready for a sandwich my mom asked him what he wanted on his and she lovingly built him a sandwich as he listed off his choice of meats, cheeses and condiments.

So I guess my mom is used to serving people everything they need. She has always fixed my dad a plate for dinner. I wonder if it’s different seeing how neither my mom nor my dad lived on their own before getting married (with the exception of my dad and his mission). Maybe my dad was always used to having someone serve him and my mom was brought up to be the one who serves people. But I think she always did that for him and she still does it for us on occasion.

I’m not saying I don’t like serving people, I’m just saying my friends are grown up enough to make their own sandwich. But Mike and Dan, as my picnic guests, I hope you’re not offended by my not fixing you a sandwich. I am a good sandwich maker, but I saw what you came up with on your own and I thought you did just fine.

3 and 7 years ago...

I'm on a little nostalgia kick since I have nothing new to say. I was looking through my old journals and so I decided I would do another flashback. It's interesting how on both of these May 8ths I wasn't in Utah.

Saturday, May 8, 2004 /8:20 AM
Ohope, New Zealand

I had a weird dream last night. I dreamt that I went home and we were moving into a different house. Wait -- it was our house, but it was different. Anyway, I had to move into a different room because Lisa was getting my room. My new room was much smaller, but it was understood that I was moving out anyway, so it would just be temporary. But all of my stuff didn't fit. For some reason I had to have the stove in my room and then a baby's crib. Whose baby I'm not quite sure.

And then, my hair was cut short. But I didn't get it cut myself, it was like I was unconscious the day earlier and Mom took me and had my hair cut without my knowing it. She told me she took me to Phil (my hair guy) and told him to cut my hair like hers, but he kept cutting it and cutting it. He, himself said it was the ugliest hair cut on me that he had ever done.


Monday, May 8, 2000 /10:08 PM
Tigard, Oregon

This morning Marni dropped Ilene and me off at the Tualatin Park and Ride so we could take the bus downtown. It kind of felt like Mom dropping you off for school.

We got off at 6th Avenue. It rained all morning. First we went to find the law firm for Ilene's interview and then we went to find Action Employment Services for my interview. It was only 10 AM and our interviews weren't until one o'clock but I asked if they would take me early and they did. I decided I really, really don't like employment agencies. They want me to be proficient with all this software and know these databases. I took the typing and Microsoft Word test. I can type 84 WPM, but I only got a 64% on the Word test, which I think is excellent for never having worked with it before. I always used WordPerfect but of course I never told them that. I learned more about Word just taking that test than I ever knew about WordPerfect. Just give me an hour to fool around with software and I could figure it out. I'm a bright girl.

Ilene's interview was at Davis Wright Tremaine and that went well we think. I think she'll get the assistant to the assistant job easy. Ilene's a bright girl too.

I picked up a newspaper as we waited for our bus home. There was an ad for a bakery downtown. Now that sounds kind of fun. I liked working at Food For Thought. I like cooking. But I have a college degree now. I feel like I should be doing something more professional. Sometimes I almost wish I didn't have a degree. That way I wouldn't feel stupid applying for a job at a bakery. I know I'm paranoid, but it seems like people would look down on me for having a college degree and a job that doesn't even require a high school diploma at the same time.

The bus system works really well here, so that's good. Marni picked us up and then we went to Washington Mutual to open up new accounts, then we went home. Marni made us cookies. She'll make a good mom someday.


I can't believe I got along without a car as long as I did.

I should start keeping a journal again. I used to write everyday. Something happened a couple years ago and I stopped writing so much. Maybe with friends living far away I started emailing more and so writing seemed redundant. Maybe it was this blog. Or maybe things are just boring. That can't be it. I wrote about nothing every day. Clearly.

One Year Ago

I apologize if you've tried to watch this previously and couldn't. I changed the settings to public so you don't need special permission to view the video.



I can't believe this was a year ago. Doesn't seem like it's been that long. But this is one from the "Thursday Night Dinner" archive. I'm sure it's only entertaining to those who know us in the video. I had to put it up because I think Clint is hilarious in this clip.

Real Good for Free

This is a picture of L'Enfant Plaza Station in Washington, D.C. It was taken by a guy named Drew McDermott. I don't know who he is, I needed a relevant illustration for this post and so I Google imaged it. He should get credit for it though.

It's the first of May and I almost forgot about my tradition of a poem on the first of each month. (I'm sure you've been holding your breath, right?)

Anyway, these are actually lyrics to a song by Joni Mitchell. I'm not a big Joni Mitchell fan, I don't know her songs, but I'll tell you the story after you read it.

I slept last night in a good hotel
I went shopping today for jewels.
The wind rushed around in the dirty town
and the children let out from the schools.
I was standing on a noisy corner
waiting for the walking green
Across the street he stood, and he played real good
on his clarinet for free.
Now me, I play for fortunes
and the velvet curtain calls.
I got a black limousine and a few gentlemen
escorting me to these halls.
And I'll play if you have the money
or if you're a friend to me.
But the one-man-band by the quick lunch stand,
he was playing real good for free.
Nobody stopped to hear him,
though he played so sweet and high.
They knew he had never been on their TV
so they passed his good music by.
I meant to go over and ask for a song,
maybe put on a harmony.
I heard his refrain as that signal changed,
he was still playing real good for free.

-- Joni Mitchell

About three weeks ago, a co-worker sent me the link to an article called "Pearls for Breakfast" and the story pretty much consumed my life for two or three days. If you can take the time, the article is well worth it (right, Ilene?) Not that it draws any conclusions, but it poses a lot of interesting questions. It's an interesting study on human behavior and makes you think about your own. So after I read this article, I had to read all the comments on the article (maybe that's why it consumed two or three days of my life). One of the comments included the Joni Mitchell lyrics which touches on one aspect of the article.

Again, I recommend this article if you have the time. It's very well written and researched. If you do take the time, let me know your thoughts. And make sure you watch the video clips.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html?hpid=topnews

Dim the lights...

Last weekend I went to St. George with my friends Christy and Jenn and several nice strangers. Most of us went to Zions where I took a lot of pictures. I thought it would be fun to learn how to make and share a slide show. So here it is!

Loyalties

Through the years I’ve developed loyalties to certain products. I used to not care. I would buy whatever was on sale, despite the brand. Growing up, we were never a “brand” family. My mom bought whatever. I didn’t care what kind of Raisin Bran I was eating (I’d rather be eating Cocoa Krispies, but that wasn’t an option). Although “light” or “nonfat” were not in our vocabulary. When I was old enough to grocery shop, I would get a talking to if I bought light sour cream or mayonnaise.

I’m getting off the point. My point is there are certain products/brands I am willing to spend the extra money for. Whether it’s for quality or nostalgic reasons.

I suppose a nostalgic loyalty is Arm and Hammer toothpaste. It’s not the cheapest brand out there, but I’ve been loyal to Arm and Hammer for at least five years. It all started many, many years ago when I was at my Grandma and Grandpa’s time-share at Snowbird. My uncle Tony and aunt Kathy were spending the night and so they had all their stuff there. They let me use their toothpaste and it was Arm and Hammer. I loved the taste and the fresh feeling it left in my mouth. I don’t know at what point after that I started buying it for myself, but I’ve used the same toothpaste for as long as I can remember. I’ll mix up the variety a little bit, enamel care, extra whitening, but no more gel for me. I’m paste all the way. Of course, I use whatever free trial sizes my dentist gives me when I travel. I think traveling lends exception to a lot of things though.

Speaking of Arm and Hammer, I have recently subscribed to their laundry detergent as well. I’m not married to it or anything, but I’m happy with it.

Another thing is my macaroni and cheese. This is partly nostalgic, partly quality. I’m not willing to settle for Western Family or Kroger. It’s gotta be Kraft. And I don’t know how you feel about your pasta shapes, but the spirals are my personal favorite. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because they cook faster or maybe it has to do with the texture. And I don’t like Velveeta shells and cheese either. Is Velveeta part of the Kraft family? Anyway, I don’t like it. I like my regular mac and cheese.

I want to say that I’m an exclusive Tillamook cheese girl, but I’m not. Cracker Barrel cheese is good too (a step above Tillamook in my opinion) but if the price is right, I’ll buy Cache Valley or Kraft. But I stopped buying mild cheddar cheese years ago. I’m all about medium or sharp.

My latest loyalty is to organic milk. I think my friend Clint converted me. It just tastes better. And for some reason, it lasts longer – which, doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but I don’t question it. I don’t have a favorite brand, just as long as it’s organic. It costs twice as much, but somehow that doesn’t bother me.

Anyone have any loyalties you want to recommend?

Pass the Port

Last week I took a cooking class at Sur la Table. I've only taken one class there before and it was with my friend Marni several years ago. I remember we learned how to dip chocolates. Haven't dipped a chocolate since.

The cooking class I took last week was from their Everyday Gourmet series called "From the Pantry to the Table." I loved every minute of it. What's awesome about these classes is that they're hands on and then you get to eat all the food you made. Thanks again to my friends who gave me the class for my birthday. I learned a lot, I got to eat a gourmet meal (more like two meals) and I got to take home some really great recipes. Here is the menu from the class:

Sauteed medallions of pork in a mustard port sauce
Herbed smashed potatoes
Porcini mushroom and red wine risotto
Pan-roasted salmon with a warm lentil and bacon salad
Sambal Shrimp with mangoes and couscous

And then our teacher thought we didn't have enough vegetables in our meal so she threw together a salad for us too. I was happy that my friend Dre wanted to come along. We accidentally sliced the onions and mushrooms instead of chopping them for the risotto, but it all cooked down to a mushy mixture anyway, so it was no matter.

I learned a lot. I learned how to slice properly (if I had a proper knife at home I could continue practicing that skill). I learned when adding broth to risotto, it should be hot broth, not poured straight from a can. I learned when cooking salmon you always start with skin down (don't remember why though). I learned what quinoa is. I learned something else, but I don't remember what it was.

It was two and a half hours of pure heaven for me. I love to cook. I love to make shopping lists. I look forward to going to the grocery store when I can saunter up and down the aisles with my cart at my leisure. I love getting the weekly ads from Smith's and Albertson's in the mail so I can see what's on sale and plan my meals accordingly. I love fresh produce and I love trying new recipes. So being around fresh and new ingredients not to mention professional cookware and cutlery was a dream come true.

I want to go back. I did buy some porcini mushrooms so I could make the risotto tomorrow night. Believe it or not I already have arborio rice and fresh parmesan. But it looks like I forgot the fresh sage and parsley.

Cooking is expensive.

Trick questions

I haven’t applied for a job in a long time, probably because I’ve had this job for six years. The last job I applied for was at a temp agency in Portland, Oregon. And it was pretty straightforward. I don’t mind interviewing for jobs, but sometimes filling out the applications seems so meaningless.

Because Glen is retiring from the Utah Arts Council after 30 years, a couple of us are up for promotions, and with that comes filling out applications and job re-classifications.

Human Resources, who apparently has no idea what we do here, writes the application questions. Some of these don’t make any sense in respect to the position. For example, Fletcher is applying for the Traveling Exhibition Program. Basically he will load up the art truck, drive it all over the state, unload it and install exhibits at schools, retirement centers and other community buildings. Nowhere in his application does it ask if he can drive a large vehicle. Under “level of physicality” it says “sedentary”. I guess he's sedentary when he's in the driver's seat. I also found it odd how where it lists job responsibilities for the Traveling Exhibition Program, under “travel” it says, “none”.

But so far this is my favorite question:

“How do you ensure that what you write will be concise, and yet be interpreted as intended? Please explain.”

First of all, how are you supposed to answer something like that?

Second of all, I had to laugh at the irony as I stumbled my way through the wording there.

If I put,

“How do you ensure what YOU write is concise, yet interpreted as intended?”

maybe that will answer their question. This has got to be a trick where they’re just trying to see if you can write clearly.

I must be hungry

I have a couple new favorite things. Have you ever ordered something at a restaurant and it was so good you couldn’t stop thinking about it for days?

About a month ago I met a friend for lunch at Caffe Molise – one of the few restaurants where I order the same thing every time I go. I always order the gnocchi. It’s in a creamy tomato garlic sauce that is SO GOOD. But that day they had a special: spinach pesto gnocchi. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good. It was perfect. I can taste it right now. Traditionally, I eat half my gnocchi and save the rest for later, but I couldn’t stop eating it and it got better with every bite. When something tastes this good I like to tell whomever I’m with “you have to try this.” But this time I think I was selfish and waited to be asked. I allowed him a bite willingly, after all, he was paying for my meal. I wanted more the next day and the next. But it was a special. I need to call and see if the chef has a schedule where he makes that on Mondays or something. I want it right now.

What I need to do is learn how to make good pesto. Last summer my friend Dre invited a bunch of us to a dinner she won for a service auction. I don’t remember who the guy was that made the pesto but it was awesome. I need that recipe. I bet if I puréed some spinach in there I could come pretty close to a clone of what I’ve been craving.

Café Trio has been my favorite restaurant for a while. They make a great club sandwich (panini style). Their chocolate torte is to die for but what surprised me was how much I loved their chocolate pudding. My sister told me to order it and I thought, “Chocolate pudding? What kind of dessert is that?” It’s the best kind at Trio, if you ask me. It’s dark chocolate pudding with…ok, I’m getting off track. I didn’t mean to even talk about Trio. What I meant to say is that I have a new favorite place: Sette Bello on 260 South 200 West.

I ate there last Tuesday for lunch. They make what they call “verace pizza napoletana.” I prefer Neapolitan style pizza. There are all these rules that must be followed. The pizza is cooked in a brick oven at 800 – 1000 degrees Fahrenheit. So the pizza only takes about a minute to cook. You can read all about it on their website. It’s the same oven the famous Grimaldi’s in Brooklyn uses, but this pizza is just as good if not better. I might have to say better. I told my parents to go there and when I asked my mom about it later she nearly cried before she could say, “That was the BEST pizza I’ve ever had.” My dad went on and on about his Margherita pizza with pine nuts and mushrooms.

So if you haven’t already, get yourselves to Sette Bello before the prices go up or they start skimping on ingredients. And bring me.

Blue sweats and sunburns

Yup, you guessed it. That's me. And the boy standing next to me that has my same face, that's my older brother Carter.

I went home for Easter and found some old things of mine. My parents had what used to be my room recarpeted so there are piles of my old photo albums, scrapbooks, and school projects stacked on the furniture.

I was looking for a different picture when I came across this one. My friend Ilene posted something on her blog a couple weeks ago about the bad outfits she used to wear, and she had a picture of her in her overalls. Ilene, I couldn't find the one we talked about with my overalls and the apples. You might have to send it to me.

I've been trying to figure out how old I am here. I can't be older than 10 or 11. This picture made me laugh though because I know my Grandma took it. My family and my mom's parents went to Pacific Grove in California for a week and we stayed in a cottage just across the street from the ocean. And I guess we bought a crab and this was before Grandma cooked it for dinner. I can just hear her telling us to go stand in the kitchen so she could take our picture. "Laura...Doll, hold on to the crab."

Anyway, check out my aqua blue sweats! And look how cute those sheep and tulips and hearts are, huh? I bet my mom painted it.

As I was flipping through photos I also came across some old poetry books of mine, and since it's still National Poetry Month, I thought I would post a poem of my own. I wrote this when I was thirteen for Mrs. Christensen's English class. I bet I wrote it after my dad made me clean out the fridge. I remember having him help me with some of my adjectives, the word "putrid" in particular.

"Twelve Spoiled Surprises"

After vacation in my fridge I saw:

Twelve shriveled carrots,
Eleven moldy yams,
Ten smelly cold cuts,
Nine gushy apples,
Eight brown bananas,
Seven dried up biscuits
Six stinking salmon,
FIVE...ROTTEN...EGGS!
Four putrid peas
Three bad beans,
Two unpleasant plums,
And a dripping can of Diet Coke.

I loved writing poetry when I was little. I liked to rhyme. I wrote a lot of poems for extra credit. It's funny because back in February I mentioned how I'm not really a student of poetry, and I don't claim to be now, but it seems I've been talking about it a lot lately.

I hope you all had a good Easter weekend. I had a good time. I went sailing at the Great Salt Lake on Saturday. Well, there wasn't a whole lot of wind, so it was more like drifting. It was kind of a spontaneous activity, and had I known when I left the house I'd end up on a boat, out in the sun for a few hours, I would have brought sunblock. Fortunately, for my face, I wear SPF 30 every day. But my poor arms don't get that kind of pampering, so yesterday they looked like this. This picture isn't the best for color contrast, but I thought I should record my first sunburn of the year.

everything which is yes

Not only is it the first of April, which means time for another poem, it is also national poetry month, which makes posting a poem even more fitting.

This one is by E. E. Cummings.


i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)


I went on a little nature walk today so I could play with my new camera outside. This poem came to mind. I love the imagery; especially how he describes trees. I love trees and their leaping greenly spirits.

So I did a little research on E. E. Cummings. I remember learning about him in school and how he was a rebel as far as punctuation and capitalization is concerned. And I would always see his name "e. e. cummings" (with lowercase initials). A tradition of writing his name with lowercase initials developed. But I learned that he actually capitalized his name (as seen in his autograph at the top of this post), and preferred it to be capitalized. Funny how things like that happen.

R.U.O.K.?

You may think this is a picture of a blank canvas, but actually this piece is called “blank on canvas”. Or maybe this one is called “it’s fun reading titles”. Unless this one is “I double-dare you to buy this.” In December of 2002, a moronic narcissist of an artist had a show at our gallery. And a lot of the titles, although you couldn’t tell from the picture (they were all simply gesso on canvas), were ridiculously inappropriate and offensive.

I cleaned out my files and came across my file on “The Jass”. I won’t use his real name, but he preferred to be called “The Jass” anyway. Or, he would answer to “thejass.com”. I hated this guy, but the whole experience was priceless, so this file is definitely a keeper.

Back in the day, we didn’t have a competitive application process to exhibit at the Rio Gallery. Lila was in charge of the gallery and this guy’s college professor asked Lila to give him a show. So he brought down some pretty pictures of landscapes and Lila said “why not.”

But his show at our gallery was months away, which gave him plenty of time to slop some gesso on some canvases, but mostly it gave him time to create his personal image. This guy thought he was a rock star. He was a Meier and Frank cashier by day, but when he went “out” at night his hair was streaked red and purple, his sunglasses came on and his entourage strutted behind.

I didn’t buy it for a second. But we were contracted to give him a show. Sometime during the year, the Rio Gallery was handed over to me as my responsibility. I didn’t know anything about this guy’s artwork, all I knew was that his show was called I.M.O.K.R.U.O.K. When I asked Lila what his work was like, she said he showed her pictures of flowers and trees. But the more I talked to this guy and the more he told me about how big this show was going to be, the more suspicious I became.

Long story short, he brought his work to the gallery ten minutes before we closed, the night before the opening. Seventeen blank canvases. He said he’d bring me the titles the next day. I was beside myself.

The next day he brought me his list of titles. I asked, “Which titles go to which piece?” and he told me it’s my job as the curator to assign the titles to each piece. I wanted to punch him in the face. “I am not the curator of this show,” I told him. That’s the last thing I wanted people to think, that I had any more association with this show than the fact that it’s hanging in the gallery I work at. What made him think the concept of a blank canvas was his idea? It had been done. YEARS and YEARS ago. Once the concept is broken, you can’t do it again. The novelty is gone, the intrigue is lost.

All I wanted to do was throw him and his canvases out the door, but unfortunately we had a show to hang, and the board of directors advised us to make the best of what we had, and there’s nothing we could have done. Yeah, we were duped, but we’ll take precautions to never let it happen again.

There’s so much more to this story: the advertising I had to do for this guy, his joke of an artist statement, how we had to scramble to take the show down for a day and hang another one in it’s place so it would be appropriate for the governor and legislators to attend our director’s retirement party there, etc. But the best part of the story was a few weeks after it was hung.

One of my co-workers came up to me when I got into work and said, “Did you see what happened out in the gallery?” I walked out there with him and he showed me three pieces that had been stabbed by a pocketknife.

My first instinct was that “the Jass” did it himself or had one of his toadies do it. And I still stick to that theory of mine. C’mon, who really cares enough to do something like that? No one. This artist wanted a controversy. He told me he wanted news media at his opening and he wanted write-ups in the paper. He wanted an enraged public. But guess what? No one cared. I think that disappointed him so he was going to stir up some more trouble to see if the papers would write about it now that he was a victim of vandalism. Too bad he damaged his own “artwork” for nothing. The only thing that came out of this was an angry postcard mailed to the gallery, which I think he wrote himself – he used the same Andy Warhol stamp he used to mail out the exhibit announcements.

This card kills me every time I read it. I blocked out some bad words for your protection. But my favorite part is how he calls himself “The Jasshole.”

So when nothing came out of this, he sent us an invoice itemizing his damages. The invoice totaled about $1300, including transportation costs, overhead, and his “time”.

In conclusion, we gave him $200, he moved to New York to be even less visible and we haven’t heard from or about him since. And with the assistance of an attorney, I created a new exhibition contract, twice as complicated, with all sorts of regulations and disclaimers.

"Schlemiel, schlimazel, hasenpfeffer incorporated!"

I bought an iPod nano over the weekend and I finally used it yesterday. I wanted to have music to listen to while I walked to and from work. But at the same time, I was worried that not being able to hear the city sounds around me would ruin the walking experience (and maybe result in me getting hit by a car). I know I probably sound really lame because people have been walking around with iPods (and before that walkmans) for years, but it’s a new thing for me. And I have to say, it was really fun.

I kind of felt like I was in a movie or TV show and I was listening to the soundtrack of my life. That probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was listening to my TV theme songs album (it's the only CD I had at my computer). “Welcome Back, Kotter” and “Laverne and Shirley” made me smile. And then it’s probably a good thing I wasn’t wearing a hat while I listened to the theme to “The Mary Tyler Moore Show”.

Side note: I walk exactly at the same pace as the theme song to Dallas.

So I enjoyed my iPod yesterday. Imogen Heap sponsored my walk home, which made the time fly by. I was home before I knew it. I was a little mad at myself for running late this morning because that meant I had to drive rather than walk. Which meant no iPod.

Speaking of yesterday, I finally cleaned my desk. I basically work in a fish bowl. My office is what used to be the ticket office for the Rio Grande Train Station, so everyone who walks through the lobby (now gallery) can see inside the windows that line my office. Since my workspace has been a mess, I’ve been keeping my blinds closed. Yesterday morning, I opened my blinds and went to work on my workspace. I cleaned out files, threw away old junk, rearranged all my books, binders, cards, DVDs, CDs, etc. I even broke out the 409 and industrial glass cleaner.

When I got back from our afternoon board meeting, I noticed that Fletcher, while arranging the walls for our next exhibit, pushed a wall right up to my windows. So now I can’t even see out my newly opened blinds, and no one can see my immaculate workspace from the windows. Oh well. I can see my immaculate workspace. That’s what’s important. Fletcher laughed at me this morning because I gave him a dirty look when he dumped some junk on my desk.

On to the next subject: the next exhibit. Yes, tomorrow night is Gallery Stroll! I have no idea what it’s going to look like because we’re nowhere near being ready. We’ve been waiting on the video artists to get all their stuff together. Hopefully we’ll get most of it done today.

This exhibit features Mark England, Jacqui Larsen, Amy Caron and Kaiti Slater. All four of these artists received a $10,000 Fellowship from the Utah Arts Council to prepare work for this show. I really like Mark and Jacqui’s work. I haven’t formed an opinion on Kaiti’s yet and Amy’s is video art, which I’m still learning to understand. Fortunately, there’s an article written on her in this month’s edition of 15 Bytes called Amy Caron: Theory of Mind. So if you want to read about her beforehand, please do. There’s also a little video clip of her work that you can watch. You can find the article here.

As always, it should be a good time. The artists are all really nice and of course we’ll have food. Any requests on the food? I’m probably going to Costco again. If you let me know by tomorrow, I’ll take your suggestions into consideration. I have my heart set on brownies though, ever since I took Clint's "What dessert are you?" test.

Poetry Out Loud

Thank you Blaine, Bradley, Heidi, Amanda, Grace, Jazzmin, Chelsea, Madison, Sarah, Marin, Stephanie and Lauren for making my job entertaining Friday night (I listed all those names from memory, isn't that impressive? Of course, that means I could have spelled your name wrong. Oops, I did. Sorry, Jazzmine). The drawings on the white board were done by the lovely Stephanie White from Jordan High School. These are some of the most responsible and respectful high schoolers I've ever met. You can bet that you'll see a lot of these kids winning more awards and accolades in the years to come. They're all bound for greatness.

This was my first Poetry Out Loud and I had a blast! It was the second annual here in Utah. I wish we had this when I was in high school. Not that I would have been brave enough to recite a poem in front of a huge crowd. You have to have a knack for drama. As soon as Blaine (the first contestant) stood up and recited "A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General" in a British accent, I knew I was in for a good time.

I have to say, I was glad that after the first round, the judges narrowed it down to six instead of four. I tried to pick who I thought would be in the final four, but it was really hard. Here's a picture of the judges deliberating over their difficult decisions.

I was in the "Green Room" most of the time with the students when they weren't onstage. Here is some video of them after the first round. I asked them how they think they did.





They started to stress too much about all the things they did wrong so I had them play some Pictionary on the board while we waited for the judges' decision. I wish I had a photo of one of the kids' rendition of a "hobo". It was pretty awesome.

I have to say, I predicted the final three. It was kind of funny, when the final three were announced after the second round, my brother (the videographer) and I were both in the back watching. As soon as Margaret said "Amanda Fujiki" Carter and I both made a little "yes" fist. I really wanted her to make it to the final round. I guess Carter did too. For some reason, the poem she recited in Round 2 had me captivated like none of the others. It was called "Scary Movies" by Kim Addonizio, and you can read it by clicking here. Of course it's not the same as having Amanda recite it. I was rooting for Madison too and of course Grace who could really command the stage (she's the one in the video who says she has the voice of a 34 year-old man). Amanda had a quieter presence, but there was something subtle and intriguing about her performances.

A blonde man stood in the back by me while we waited for the judges to announce the final three. He leaned over to me and asked who I thought was going to make it. I said it was really hard to say, but I really liked Amanda in the second round. He replied, "I'm glad you said that, because she's mine. Well, she's not my kid, she's my student." And when Margaret said, "Our state finalist is Amanda Fujiki" that guy was the proudest teacher I had ever seen. He had his hand over his mouth and kept repeating, "I can't believe it. I can't believe it." He was proud beyond belief. He kept thanking me for giving them this opportunity and how great this is for students to stimulate their interest in poetry.

Of course, I had very little to do with Friday night, but I loved my job that day. Congratulations Amanda! She's on the far right in the group photo at the top by the way. You really were great. You did Meridian School proud. Good luck in Washington, D.C.!

"On the next Studio 5"

Ever since 40 became the new 30, the trend around town is to create special programs and events geared for the unique culture that 20-40 year-olds demand. Especially when it comes to the arts. The arts community is scared to death that their audience is dying out, so they’ve hired some young, hip professionals to develop new audiences.

One of the first programs that popped up about a year ago was Vivace, sponsored by the Utah Symphony. “Vivace" means in a lively or vivacious manner. It’s actually wildly successful. They go to the same symphony performances as the 50-60 and 70 somethings, only Vivace has an after party and special program notes written by their 20-something coordinator. Sometimes they’ll have special late-night performances and lectures by the performers. They even have a myspace page.

Ballet West and RDT have started Studio D which is similar to Vivace – just a specialized group of younger people that get together to share their common interest in dance. It’s all free, but you have to fall in the younger age-range.

The Salt Lake Tribune, is even trying something. Hardly anyone reads the Trib anymore when you can read it online or pick up a City Weekly for free. So they came up with “IN” Utah. A poor attempt to cut into City Weekly’s audience. It has the same look, format and price. Only the writing is really bad.

So this brings me to KSL and their stab at being young and hip: “Studio 5”. I remember KSL's marketing director did a workshop for the Utah Arts Council and he talked about Studio 5 and how it's going to attract a younger audience to KSL. Someone should tell the execs most of the "young and hip" audience is at work at 11 AM and can't watch their show. Has anyone seen this? I have not, but I’ve seen the morning teasers all week. I want to know what kind of surveys or focus groups resulted in this morning show. And who did the hiring for their hosts?

I’m sure Brooke and Darin are very nice people, and they actually look all right in this picture, but they’re not exactly what I would call hip. The promos have Brooke’s hair all big and teased and every day this week they’ve put Darin in a girly sweater. Which brings me to the reason I even bring this up. I’m going to list the teasers from this week and you tell me why they even have a guy co-hosting this show:

Brooke: Make your own bath salts!
Darin: On the next Studio 5

Brooke: Home decorating tips!
Darin: On the next Studio 5

Brooke: How to host a girlfriend party!
Darin: On the next Studio 5

I'm not exaggerating. At least they have the girl saying the first line. Poor Darin. If KSL wanted to look younger, they’re failing miserably. This pair doesn’t look like 2007; they look like 1955. And if they wanted to talk about country crafts and slumber parties, all they needed to do was look to ABC’s Good Things Utah for ideas. Don’t even get me started on Good Things Utah. I don’t know how that show exists. They basically regurgitate everything that was covered on the national morning shows earlier in the day, only without the celebrity guests. The show's very name is a Martha Stewart ripoff. I remember watching it once and the brunette actually took out a newspaper and read the headlines. Well, I guess if no one is reading the Tribune anymore…

"Choose Something Like a Star"

I have nothing to say on my own really, so I think it’s time again for a poem by somebody else. Just like last month’s poem by Mary Queen of Scots, I first heard this poem as a song. I was at a fundraiser for the Utah Chamber Artists a couple years ago and Barlow Bradford (the artistic director) read it to us at a dinner before the concert at the Cathedral of the Madeline. I remember he cried at the end of the eleventh line. Barlow can be emotional like that.

I kept the program from the concert that night because I liked the poem so much. I don’t remember the melody of the song, which is strange. Usually for me, the music is more memorable than the lyrics. But I studied the poem over and over again. I even hung a star above my bed. I can be corny like that.


Choose Something Like a Star

by Robert Frost

O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud --
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.

Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says "I burn."
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.

It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end.
And steadfast as Keats' Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.


Speaking of poetry…if anyone wants something different to do and free of charge, you should come to the Poetry Out Loud competition at Westminster College on Friday, March 9th. Ten students from ten high schools in Utah will each recite a 1-3 minute poem. There will be a panel of judges and the winner will be forwarded to Washington, D.C. for the national competition. Word has it these students really brought down the house at their schools during the finals, so I’m excited. Utah Arts Council staff will be working the event. I’m the “contestant handler”. I’ll be backstage and in the green room giving pep talks and making sure everyone walks in the right direction. It sounds like a documentary like “Spellbound” doesn’t it? Maybe someday it will be –my brother Carter will be filming the event.

The Song in My Head

Spank hop shuffle step, step shuffle spank stomp spank hop shuffle heel shuffle heel step stomp, spank hop shuffle heel, flap shuffle heel, step brush heel back heel ball change stomp.

Over and over in my head. Can't make it stop. I think everyone who reads this knows I take tap. And that's only one part of the tap routine. It's the most fun to say over and over in my head though.

I remember a long time ago someone told me the only way to get rid of a song in your head is to sing it all the way through. What kind of half brained idea is that? It only makes me practice it more. Never worked for me.

Speaking of songs...does anyone have a song on the radio right now that once it comes on you have to change it right away? Lately there has been this song that actually makes me angry. Most people who know me will tell you I'm not an angry person. In fact, I'm fairly tolerant, but I have a physical reaction to this song. Not only do I want to turn the radio off, I want to HIT it off. I get all tense whenever I hear those voices at the beginning.

I was driving to my sister's the other night and that song came on. I made myself listen to the whole thing because I never listen long enough to hear the DJ credit the song when it's over and I wanted to know who this band was that makes me so angry. So I did. I don't know if Blue October is the band name or the song name, but I can't stand that song.

And then there are songs that I don't know why I like, but whenever they come on, I have to listen. Confession: I never understood what the big deal was with the Dixie Chicks, never a big fan of them or country music in general, but when some of their songs come on, I usually have to listen to the whole thing. If someone can explain that one to me, please do.