What I Dream About

I have had a series of really unfortunate dreams lately. Not the kind that leave me shaken or unnerved throughout the day, but the kind that make me wonder what in the hell my subconscious is worried about.

For example, after watching pieces of the presidential debate on Tuesday, I woke the next morning with the distinct feeling that I had really made Obama mad while I mediated an economic agreement between McCain and Bernacke. Now bear in mind, I don't really fully understand the ramifications of economic policy on strongholding, but in my mind I was opinionated enough to alienate a candidate. Never fear though, I spent the remainder of my sleeping hours trying to make it up to Barack by telling him about the screenplay I had written.

Worse that this, though, is the dream I had last night in which I spent a full night and day running around Manhattan trying to find Sara so that I could give her a road bike to take on her honeymoon. Because, you know, she had found someone she wanted to marry and was going to elope without actually telling me about it. Now Sara, don't get mad - I just really wanted you to know that I would bring you a bike before your wedding.

So here's the problem with these stupid little dreams that I remember so vividly every morning: I have a hard time determining what has actually happened in the real-person world and what I have only summoned in my head. Post-debate, I spent the day on edge with the feeling that I was going to have to explain my ill-conceived stimulus package to the American public because the current leaders of the country had been hurt by my non-partisan leanings. Similarly, I woke this morning wondering if I had missed what was sure to have been a good wedding and if I had hurt Sara's feelings by not providing a bike (it could have been new, borrowed, and blue!) on a really important day.

In short, I have no grasp on reality. But I might be able to write a screenplay.

More Pretty

I seem to be on a kick lately - like I have a party to plan or something... Eeks! Halloween!

Anyway, this portfolio by Amy Atlas Events is wonderful. Check it out.

I Like This

Came across this while interneting today. The Paris-based artists have created scenes using tiny figurines and daily household food/items. The website reads:

"The husband and wife team present a manufactured micro universe, part Toy Story, part Candy Land, populated with diminutive humanoid characters engaged in a range of ordinary and extraordinary activities. Since the project inception in 2002, the series has grown to over 60 images."

This is so clever, I wish I had thought of it first. I couldn't narrow down all of my favorites, but here are a few:

It's True:

No One Cares What You Had For Lunch. But here's the thing - I do what I want. So WATCH ME write about the mundane bits of my life. I work with what I have folks, judge all you want.

Back to the matter at hand though, it is no longer summer. Now, I get that Utah has these "four seasons" and that the temperature can't "feasibly stay" in the 90's. Sure, science triumphs again. Whatever. Fact of the matter is, I officially made the switch to hibernation mode last night due to frigid temperatures and a frosty demeanor (on my part, naturally.) Gone are the days of only one blanket on my bed, pajamas consisting of shorts and summery tee's. Instead, I write this from a bed that boasts the addition of two extra blankets and the reinstatement of the much-lauded heated mattress pad. I'm wearing a long sleeved thermal and damned flannel pants that scream "Yukon, Ho!"

Also - who did it best?!? I can't decide wheter Elvin Bishop or Rod Stewart made the superior version of "Fooled Around and Fell in Love." It's troubling.

And another thing - during a bike ride tonight I found that Provo has an Amtrak station. Pretty rad. I need to decide where I am going to ride it - east or west?

Ashley sent the text I love to get: the reminder of the 2008, 48 hour, Disneyland extravaganza that went down 6 months ago. I never remarked, but it was so choice. These are my favorite bits to remember:

• Ashley and I not sleeping the first night in Vegas - we just stared at each other in the dark for 3 hours


• Sporadically getting up to investigate the noises outside of where we were (not) sleeping. It was a basketball smackdown in the wee hours...


• Getting lost in Disneyland while the kindness of my friends allowed them to not leave me for dead


• All of Disneyland, really


• Getting turned around on the drive home and making a 1.5 hour detour in the middle of the Nevada desert. I am still in debt to Jessica and Heather for not leaving me right then and there. They are good girls.

So Good

I may be having a crap Christmas this year, because there was another shutout against Wyoming today (44-0). I mean, I know it's only Wyoming, but what are the odds that this string of luck is just a little bit or all for me? Either way, I am not complaining.

(But I really hope Max Hall and Austin Collie don't read this. They could clean my clock.)

Some Kind of Wonderful

I don’t think it’s a very Christian sentiment, but the highlight of my weekend was watching BYU football give UCLA an absolute thrashing. I mean, 59-0 is the best possibility you could even imagine in terms of improving national rank (which was a wash last week, even though we beat Washington fairly. But whatever. I’m not bitter or anything.) If it weren’t for the fact that we needed to redeem ourselves after a lucky win at the Vegas Bowl last year, I would have considered the win almost embarrassingly easy. Somehow, though, scoring three touchdowns in something like 6 minutes made it pretty easy to quickly shelf any sympathy for the Bruins.

In retrospect, it might have been a case of overkill but I already used my Christmas wish this year – all I wanted was a complete shutout. And so help me, it came true. This is my testimonial of Christmas wishes; I’m going to need all of you to make a similar wish for the U of U game come November…

The only, only, ONLY downside of the game was that I arrived without my best friend SPF 80. Which led to these unfortunate photos of an undocumented person being taken on Sunday. Whoever she is, she must feel pretty stupid. And hot. And burn-y. But you know, that’s pure conjecture.

Bonneville Salt Flats

This past weekend, Hilary and some girls she knows, Amy and Denise, and myself decided to make a quick overnight 'camping' trip to the Salt Flats near Wendover, NV. I use the word 'camping' only because I don't know what else you would call a 14-hour walking-and-sleeping-only excursion. Luckily, Denise brought along a 72-hour kit and Hils had hot chocolate to share for the next morning when I got up (not woke up, I didn't sleep) on the brink of freezing to death. Although when I think about it, there is probably nothing more dramatic or romantic than dying in the desert when one can see the bright lights of Wendover on the horizon, welcoming arms inviting to the land of $4.99 buffets and geriatric gambling.

We left just before 10:00 on Friday night and drove for about an hour and half before I thought I had found the road we wanted to ditch the car on and walk for a while. Not surprisingly, the road was not in fact the correct one and instead led us to this sign:

In case you can't tell, the sign informed us that we were in fact on a closed landfill. In the desert. On the Utah-Nevada border where it was sure to be full of toxic waste. It was awesome. Amy jumped out of the car and almost collapsed laughing when she realized that we were truly heading nowhere good.

Also, I don't have the picture but we definitely considered parking at the entrance of the speedway and might have been sleeping ON the track when the speed tests began first thing on Saturday morning. I'll admit that I am a little bit disappointed that things didn't go that way - it would have been interesting to be roused by the sounds of motorcycles driving 209 mph just for fun.

Eventually we found a relatively lonesome spot after walking a couple of miles and set up the camp/tarp. Notice how everyone else was prepared with blankets, hats, gloves? I uh, wasn't.

Hils and I tried to take a decent picture but the cornea-scorching brightness of the camera flash made it impossible.

Honestly, I can't complain about being so cold that I couldn't sleep because I was awake to see the sun rise, something that hasn't happened in some twenty years. It looks like this at 6:00 in the morning:

After the sun was high enough to thaw everyone out, we each went our separate ways to do some *ahem* business and then began the walk back.

Yes, I'm pretty sure my car was in view the entire time. It is no-joke flat out there.I was glad to find that Kenni (with an i) had taken some time to reflect. And collect that many rocks because man, it must have taken some time.

After stopping to talk to the race-coordinators at the raceway, we hit the road at around 9:00 with only one quick stop to take a picture of the WHITE salt flats where we should have been in the first place.

It was a good time. Anyone up for round 2?