Last day in Boise

It's been one of those really great days. We went to Saver's and the cotton-poly-stirup-pant woven top jumpsuit with the original belt I hid under a bathrobe- was half off, and we added these beauties to our collection:


And, Mom made a fantabulous loaf of bread using the new cast iron Martha Stewart pans we bought (this recipe). The crust was straight from a French bakery. I also made chocolate mousse. After my dad pronounced it as the best mousse he has ever had, I told him I made it using only chocolate chips, tofu, and a little maple syrup. Got you!

And... we're moving to Portland tomorrow!

Celebrate your menses

Our summer has consisted of traveling interspersed with periods of nothing. I really like the nothing periods, personally, but then you have to create something to do. Although I would be the last to admit it, Boise is no New York when it comes to fun things to do at a moment's notice (see Kenz's blog). However, there were two festivals going on this weekend. The first was the Basque festival, and annual party filled with beer and meat and references to sheep herding. Boise has the highest non-European population of Basque people, and the Basques I know are pretty funny. So I had high expectations. We headed to the Basque square and were met by a group of people sitting in chairs staring at each other. We thought they were waiting for a parade, but nothing materialized. It was only 8:30, so we decided to hit up plan B, which was Goddess Fest. Goddess Fest brings together all things mystical, crystal, herbal, and feminine.

One of my favorite Goddesses. And that button shaped thing is a part of her bonnet (fur trimmed?).

We actually first saw Goddess fest that morning, when we went running on the greenbelt by Julia Davis Park. We were met by chanting, incense-burning costumed goddesses, hearing snippets like "New this year! Enjoy the Nice ritual!" and "Well, it's starting at 2:00, but you know pagan time..." I got a river rock to absorb my negative energy and wanted to come back. This festival did not disappoint. I was sad that we missed the belly dancers, but we were able to jam to Rastafarian tunes and get our toes read. After making a prayer flag invoking the power of gems to all and eating a really stale peanut butter cookie, we left satisfied. (all I had was my cameraphone, and these are taken creepster style so I couldn't get too close)

Fairies have wings, but sometimes only a golf cart will do.

Things always get better when you add a hula hoop to the mix.

32 out of 80 aint bad. Actually, it is.

Milder example of some overexposure. Why?! I was so looking forward to this picture of Jon in an English garden.

So we finally got our Diana pictures developed from Europe (the color ones). BYU does it about 50 times cheaper than anywhere else, so Jake and Linds took them down for us (thanks!). When we got them back though, over half were overexposed in this oval pattern. We think our camera might have a crack in the lens or something. I really don't know crap about photography. I just try to look cool cause I have a plastic camera. So, I ate 2 large costco cookies because I had a major case of the bummers, but we still got some that looked ok. The rest are posted on our picasa album, but if you have any idea what happened, let me know. They might be able to be photoshopped--but again, another skill set I do not possess.

Perfect husband, or...

Yesterday I was thinking about Jon's small fascination that he had with serial killers a while ago. We were newly married, and when he was bored at work he would research serial killers on wikipedia. His favorite song from Sufjan Steven's Illinois album was John Wayne Gacy, Jr. One day he was telling me how serial killers really weren't scary or creepy to the outside world. He said, "Isn't it crazy? Serial killers are usually people you would NEVER suspect." That got me thinking. Who was the person I knew that would never, ever be a serial killer? Jon. For about 30 seconds to a minute I was honestly freaked out that my new husband was so wonderful that he must be a serial killer because he would never be a serial killer. I was totally caught up in circular logic and memories of episodes of "48 hours." If Jon realized then how extensive (and irrational) my worries are sometimes (thank you, Hallmark genes) he would have known to keep his interesting facts to himself.

Confession

Until recently, I believed that wolverines were imaginary animals. And narwhals.

Portland: A place Wal-Mart dares not go

Yesterday we drove to Portland because we figured we needed a place to live. Our plan to sleep in the back of my mom's Outback in a random parking lot was foiled and we ended up in the very comfy spare room of a fellow first-year's apartment/mansion. After seeing a bunch of places, we went to see this condo owned by Carole and Stephen, two very nice elderly Oregonians. Two girls had supposed preference, but after a visit with us, two non-smoking, non-drinking clean cut kids shacking up legally, I knew they could not say no. And they didn't. I know it doesn't look like the Atlas apartments, but the dishwasher and wood bark/grain wallpaper was thrown into the deal. And it is $695 a month for 2 bedrooms, which is a crazy crazy low low price! As we signed everything at Carole's, I swear she was going to bust out cookies and milk. But she did let us know when all the grocery store coupons came in the paper, and I feel like we made some real friends.

Andrew--Every time I hear a too-loud truck engine or down a bag of kettle corn I'll think of you and miss you.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers this week.

I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills

I love Jon so much that I posted this fugster pic cause it was the only one with him in it.

Jon and I jumped at the chance to go to Girl's Camp for a night this week. So we headed up to Banks, Idaho, for "skit night." I laughed at all the wrong places, and joined with my mom in refusing to sing the "gooney bird" song. I love my mom's camp rebellion. It made me reunite with the ghosts of junior high past, but there were tons of treats and girl drama abounded.

What I've been reading lately. I'm working on emulating that thigh muscle.

A visit to Seth Cohen's turf

We just got back from the land of cruiser bikes--not Provo, friends--Huntington Beach. I got a very mediocre tan, as I am a walking skin cancer risk pamphlet and love my spf's, and I finally ate real Pinkberry. And the 4th is huge. I mean, Christmas huge. We went to a parade that we thought would be a solid hour, and two and half hours later we walked home with crusty paint on our faces and a slight case of heatstroke. Not that it wasn't worth it. E class celebrities, two different groups with mini horses, and the Republican Women and Democrat floats battling it out for top spot. (My vote? The repubs had some great dance tunes, but the dems brought serious heat with a full on big band.) Also, we sat next to a lady who I swore was my mom's more jowly twin. (You are the more beautiful (and thin) one, mom) However, it did not stop me from taking several creepster pics of her throughout.

"California Lorrie" also had 3 golden labs she was training with her. Way to go, mom!

Nothing like a free flag pin. I grabbed another one to put on my pantsuit.

Farm fresh carrots are not a good parade snack when a horse goes out of control and wanders dangerously close.

Nope, not Pam. Just a California karate mom. I missed Boise at that moment.

Sedaris fever!

While we were in Europe we learned a lot about America. That's because we downloaded 10 hours of This American Life (the radio show) to listen to during wait times. And because we took our iPod back from some Spanish gypsy thieves, we were able to complete that task. For those not in the know, TAL is a weekly NPR radio show where Ira Glass, the host, presents a theme and stories ("acts") based around that theme. One of my favorite activities is speaking in "act" speak, and telling stories like a TAL reporter. Little voice inflection is necessary, except lowering your pitch at the end of each sentence and talking a little slow. Please ask me to do it next time you see me.

One of the best episodes was "An American in Paris." We learned about David Sedaris' life in Paris and his visits to taxidermy shops and how he has never visited the Louvre. He is a nervous, quirky man who happens to be a mad hit on the NPR intelligencia circuit. He's on a lot of TAL episodes, to the point where I think we are friends (much like all the characters in Felicity). In Paris, our dream was to run into him, although we had no idea what he looked like. We just imagined that we would find him drinking an espresso on a street corner, or hanging out in a hardware store. I took a picture of taxidermied rats in a pest control shop hanging from traps and said to Jon, "David Sedaris would totally love this place! I bet he has stood right in this spot and checked out the large spiders and ferrets."

In addition, a particularly inspired friend bought me Amy Sedaris' book, "I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence," for my birthday. It is a ingenious, giggle out loud book on how to earn money whilst throwing a party (sell household items), paste googley eyes on root vegetables, and rabbit-proof your home. It also has wonderfully grotesque pictures of stews and gloppy looking desserts. It is amazing, to say the least. Then I made the connection Amy and David were brother and sister, and also listened to the TAL episode "I enjoy being a girl (sort of)" where David explains (among other things) that Amy's imaginary boyfriend and pet rabbit are two very real things in her life, and how she has invested in the bottom half of a fat suit to use on various random occasions.

Looks like I have a new girl crush and gay crush.