Amazing Race: Watch Video and Join the Ultimate Fan Community - CBS.com

Amazing Race: Watch Video and Join the Ultimate Fan Community - CBS.com

The Amazing Race is one of the few television shows I find the time for. As my house has the best reception in the family, my regular "groupies" make the pilgrimage each week for my Race parties. Nothing extravagant, really. A simple dinner and I try to have an activity to keep Rebecca occupied and entertained while her parents watch the show. For those of you who wonder, Dave, my brother-in-law tapes the show so I can watch it after they go. Tonight, we made pumpkin shaped mini-cakes, then decorated them.

As the theme music builds, excitement and adrenaline start pumping in my veins. When each team is flashed on the screen during the opening credits, we will either pause or scream, "OUT" as loud as we can to "honor" those who have fallen at the end of previous episodes. We mourn those we liked, but lost and cheer those we didn't care for, but are still in. This season, we especially like mocking the dumb blond ladies who just can't seem to read their clues. Sometimes I wonder how they were ever approved for the show, but then remember a certain demographic (not gay men, mind you) are interested in watching pretty blonds run about, even if they lack intelligence. Too bad many decisions are made based on what it will do to the ratings.

I found this link (above) to watch a clip and join the shows fan club. I haven't yet, but will. I love the Amazing Race because it takes me to places I'll never visit. For other places, I'm curious to see what it looks like, but am really glad to not be there personally (like all the places with snakes) . My family may not approve, but if you are a cute boy who wants to come over for my Race parties, please do. The more the merrier.

The real one? She's here? Uh, oh.

Thanks, Josh, for finding this SNL sketch. In classic "Steven" fashion, I fell asleep 15 minutes before this aired. Let's just say that darn couch got me again. =) Enjoy.

A little sarcasm in the morning...

Please help put an end to discrimination.

Some joke that homosexuals have the right to get divorced just like everyone else. Some say gay marriage will never work because homosexuals are all over-sexed slutty whores who can't commit to one person. Or that they really don't want it in the first place. Others contend allowing gay marriage would be an end to society as we know it because the traditional family would be destroyed. To all of these comments, I say, "NONSENSE."

Yes, some gays are promiscuous, but we do not have a corner on the market. Straight infidelity is so common that many popular motion pictures have been made about the subject. Unfaithful with Diane Lane and Richard Gere for one and Fatal Attraction with Michael Douglas and Glenn Close for another.

My point is that much of the argument against marriage equality is based on false stereotypes and fear. Gays have "earned" the reputation for sleeping around because there hasn't been a marriage option for them. By not allowing gay marriage, society is telling gays it is not only ok to have shallow relationships, but expects them to sleep around since commitment is for straights.

I have personally met many gay couples who have fought against these societal expectations and have been together, loving each other for years. Good friends of mine, Ron and Todd, for example, recently traveled to California (a trip that shouldn't have been necessary) to get married. They have been together for 14 years. They are just as happy as any newlyweds I've met. Since being allowed by the California Supreme Court, thousands of gay couples have flocked to get married there. If allowed to continue as married couples (meaning if Prop 8 is defeated), will some of them eventually get divorced? Probably. But then again, divorce among the straight community is just about 50%. The gay couples I've met (and the homosexuals who have yet to meet that someone special) yearn for equality. They yearn for a time when they are not treated differently just because of who they are attracted to and love.

If gays were allowed to marry, would the traditional definition of family be destroyed? No. It would be expanded to understand that there are differences in our society. In the recent past, it was thought that women needed to stay home and clean all day while the men went off to work. After a long, hard-fought struggle, women are now respected in the workplace as being just as capable as their male counterparts. As a society, we have found that women are no different from men in making business decisions and running companies. The traditional family definition of the 1950's has certainly changed, but families still move forward. Should we ever go back to the June Cleaver and Lucy Ricardo world? No. The family dynamic has changed, but for the better. The same can be said for gays who want to marry and start a family through adoption or other means. Family means people who love and support each other where their financial and other resources are pooled for the betterment of each other. This can apply to gays and straights alike. Every child should have a loving home to grow up in and it really shouldn't matter if that home has a mom and a dad or two dads or two moms. Love is the important key.

Please stop discrimination. If you are in California, please vote NO on prop 8. If you are outside of California, please do what you can to stomp out discrimination of all types. Thank you.

To be fair, a pro-Palin commentary

Is it possible to be pro-Palin, but anti-McCain?
Golly these fellers' r funny. They made me laugh.
Hope you enjoy this as well.

The Birds...

Did you ever see that scary Alfred Hitchcock movie, "The Birds" where a town is suddenly host to an aviary convention? The birds in that film lined the fences, the electric wires, even the school's playground jungle gym, but more importantly wanted a bit more than to poop on people's freshly washed cars. The image of a lady running and screaming down the street being harassed and ultimately overtaken by a large raven (I always thought it was a crow)haunted my childhood. Every so often when out enjoying nature, large birds will still make me duck my head and shiver in fright fearing it will come peck my brains out like that unfortunate woman. Alfred Hitchcock sure did know how to make fictional movies that scared me. Or maybe it wasn't based on fiction at all?

Yesterday, I was huddling inside my cozy house thinking I should probably start cleaning or doing something clever when I looked outside and gasped in horror. Take a look for yourself...

The birds also lined the fences that boarder the backyards of the houses on my street, but those pictures didn't turn out. Yes, Josh, they were blurry. =( In fact, most of my pictures don't turn out. I think it must be the camera. =)


These birds were not large, but their vast numbers were a bit intimidating. It was bitter cold outside and I kept hoping they were just stopping by for a rest on their way to St. George. I guess not. Many of the birds are still there today. Did they see how plump and delicious I would be when I walked my garbage to the dumpster way down the street? Maybe they are stalking my every move and will be reporting back to the really big birds who missed their chance to peck my brains out the last time we met. Don't know for sure, but images of those "When animals attack" television shows kept flashing through my mind.

I lived if any of you wondered. Today, that is. =)

The "real" McCain

"I can see Russia from my house..."

"I'd like to use one of my life lines..."

Another great example of a good laugh that scares me.

But what about the talent competition?

Except for the really scary part if it came true, sometimes I think it would be fun for McCain to win so we could continue to see Tina Fey as a spot-on Sarah Palin. Unfortunately, this is the real world and getting a good laugh now and then is not a reason to elect someone vice-president. Sorry SNL writers/producers, if may mean having to stretch a little farther, but the country needs Obama.

Kirkham, no mo'

Weddings are not where I typically like to hang out and spend my rainy Saturday afternoons. They depress me for one and the awkward social interaction makes me so claustrophobic that it physically becomes difficult to breathe. In the "old" days, I dreaded going to weddings because there was always a nosy relative I haven't seen in years who inevitably asked the question, "When are we going to come to one of these for you?" or the even worse, "We know the perfect girl for you." I honestly feel the most alone when I'm in a crowd of people.

Still, for as much as I dislike weddings, I enjoyed going yesterday to celebrate Kim and Travis' marriage. It was a simple affair with white and purple (I'm not allowing myself to type lavender) decorations tactfully strewn around the room. While I first had my doubts about what to wear to a wedding held at the local fitness center, it really was beautiful and comfortably casual. (It did NOT hurt knowing that strong, muscular men were working out and showering just a few feet away. Yes, I'm that gay!)

I thought the cake was especially beautiful with purple flowers and white boarders. The cake table had a nice arrangement of crystal, wedding mints and purple napkins. The table accents were simple, yet elegant.

Kim has been my co-worker, my boss and my friend for much of the four and a half years I've been in Guest Relations. On more than one occasion, she has seen more potential in me than I've been able to see in myself. Kim was largely responsible for landing me the promotion for my current job and has frequently been my number one supporter. It will be sad to no longer use KK as my quick code in Outlook, but then again, when is Kim and Travis' wedding about me? I'll just have to get used to Kim Worthen. Change is never easy, but for a friend like Kim, I'm willing to sacrifice (typing KW will require two hands). =)

A note about my gift, just in case Kim ever reads this: Yes, I went with Pyrex. How can you go wrong with Pyrex? It can go from freezer, to fridge, to oven, to microwave, to dishwasher. This set included lids for ease in bringing goodies to work potlucks and such. Since I'm frequently at work and always like to share (except drinks, hugs with women and fruit), I thought it the perfect gift. Kim, if you don't think so, instead of trying to return it to the Wal Mart store, just give it to me and I'll give you the cash. My opinion: One can NEVER have enough Pyrex.


Thanks, Kim and Travis, for allowing me to take part in your wonderful, rain-filled wedding day.

Matt Damon on Sarah Palin

An Unusual Predicament

On the way home from the fish hatchery, we stopped for ice cream in Kamas. We usually stop at Dave's, a quaint little hamburger/ice cream stand that has awesome signs posted like, "This is NOT Burger King and NO, you can't have it your way." and "Everything is hand made to order, so if you want fast food, don't even order." AWESOME!!! Except that there were easily 100 people ahead of us in line, so we didn't stop there.

Instead, we went around the corner to the city drug store where they feature an old fashioned diner with stools and everything. The only other time I've been there was on the way home from scout camp when I was 12. I was riding home in the front of my Scoutmaster's truck squished between him and two other guys (seat belt laws were not quite what they are today). Jay wanted ice cream and since he was driving, we were forced to get two scoops, each being approximately the size of my head). SO GOOD. Until we were about 12 minutes outside of Kamas when I completely zonked out and ice cream melted all over everyone. Awe, good times.

This time, while waiting for our order (again, not known for their fast food), my dad eyed a very large (and yes, ugly) picture frame at the street yard sale we parked next to. To our horror, he bought the thing and thought it would be fun to pack it home in our already filled SUV. Michelle had just purchased the vehicle and didn't want the picture strapped to the top, so we tryied every which way to accomodate our new passenger. Dad didn't care about the picture, but needed the frame for some project (that I really hope doesn't involve my house). In the end, it just wouldn't work and the picture and ugly frame were both left in Kamas. Dad, who is never discouraged from finding room at home for another piece of junk offered to drive up the following Monday in his truck to collect the painting. Once my dad sets his mind to something, you might as well not even try stopping him (which includes becoming the self-proclaimed most loyal Wheel of Fortune and Price is Right home audience member of all time). We should have just kept on-a-going instead of stopping for ice cream (can you believe I just typed that?) since we went to the IHOP store for pancakes on our way home. We were all full from the ice cream (did I mention each scoop is about as big as my head?), but it was all part of Rebecca's birthday trip to the hotel (see previous posts) and she wanted IHOP. Now that she is five, she has already started planning her next birthday adventure. This year, she ended up with our celebrating her birthday throughout August (due to schedules and what not). I taught her well. =)

A Fishy Experience...

My regular groupies, meaning Rebecca's clan and Mom, recently toured the Kamas Fish Hatchery, operated by our good friends at the Department of Fish and Game or Wildlife or what have you. I guess they are not good friends, but I'd buy the guy an ice cream if we were ever to meet him hitchhiking on the road to the Dairy Queen.

Tours only run a few hours a day, Thursday - Sunday from Memorial Day to Labor Day. This means we have been there a time or two when we just missed the last tour of the day. This time, we arrived just prior to a tour start time and as luck had it, were in store for the treat of a private tour. We really don't like to share.

The nice older gentleman explained how they capture salmon, squeeze out their eggs, fertilize them with "cream," then sell the babies to other hatcheries that actually grow salmon. That accounts for a large part of their operating budget, apparently, which is large enough to stock many lakes in the Uintah Mountains with fish each year (mostly rainbow trout).

We learned about the horrible whirling disease that requires the facility protect itself like Fort Knox (in the old days, you could go any time and walk around the many pools of fish). Once a lake or stream has the disease, it is virtually impossible to get rid of it. It is easy to re-infect, so the 40 year natural life cycle of the disease frequently starts over. When I was younger, the Fish and Game people poisoned or bleached Strawberry Reservoir to kill the bad fish. Now it is a healthy, thriving body of water that provides year round recreation. We asked if something like that could be done for the whirling disease, but it can't. The disease is harder to contain as a stream's ecosystem is very complex and many other species could be harmed, whereas whirling disease only affects fish.

Once the fish are big enough, they are loaded into trucks like this one or onto airplanes. They drive by or fly over lakes and rivers and dump their loads. We even saw their elaborate system for loading the fish onto the truck. Quite the operation. If you'd like to see the fish species poster I earned for not bothering him with too many questions and not falling into the fish pools, accidentally or otherwise, just ask. It's colorful.


I will say the tour guide (my polite name for him) completely catered the tour to Rebecca. I didn't mind that so much since she is the cutest one of the lot and was even amused when he was caught off guard by her forthright nature. He explained why outsiders like ourselves can't feed the fish even though there were large pallets of food throughout our tour. Rebecca simply insisted on feeding the fish. She was polite, but firm in her resolve and he caved. He also caved after being initially taken aback when she held out her hand and said, "I'm going to hold your hand." Clearly outside of his routing, but he quickly adapted and as a result, even though a few weeks have passed since, she still talks about the visit and wants to show off her fish poster. It's the same cool, colorful fish poster I have, so we are really a matched set.

I have included a fish movie clip for you to get the full effect of the tour. That is just in case you drive all the way to Kamas and miss the tour by 20 minutes, which would still be a relaxing, beautiful drive even at $4.00 a gallon. The tour guide would excite the fish with food or by making faces or whatever without telling me, so by the time I had the camera recording, they were already settling down. Hopefully you can get an idea of what it was like, even still. Enjoy.

A Day at the Utah State Fair

The Utah State Fair ends today after it's annual 10-day run. I never go the last day because I fear it would be too depressing. The vendors who hoped to sell more realize their "big" days are in the past since this is Utah and the majority are somewhere else praying or passing the pot roast or something religious. The animals who endured sprucing up are let go to seed since tomorrow no one will care how great their coats are. Even the vegetables with that shiny coating of wax start to fade. This is why I stay home and enjoy the day in the only way I know how: naked.

Any who. There are a few rules that are followed religiously, unless I decide not to. Since I am a city boy (and a city girl on the 2nd Friday of each month), the fair is really my only opportunity to interact with livestock. The zoo only counts as half an interaction because we can't actually touch a bear or pet a tiger.

Rules for the fair

1) Touch a cow, a pig, a goat and a sheep. Extra points are awarded if they haven't shown the sheep yet and if they have "Please Do NOT Touch the Sheep" signs posted. This is another reason I don't go on the last day.
2) Eat a lemon pepper flavored corn on the cob. This is usually the only time I'll eat corn on the cob. At other times, when a cob is presented, I saw off the corn so I can eat it in a dignified manner. Some call this the old lady method, but I have issues with biting into a hot cob. At the fair, I just chow down on the corn without sawing. The lemon pepper butter sauce they slather on is SO good. This year, a pesky bee kept buzzing around, but I didn't let him have any. I really don't like to share. =)
3) Put our hands into the swirling hot tubs.
4) Visit the Wildlife building where my unintentionally parents left me when I was five years old. Smokey the Bear was shaking people's hands at the door as they entered. The live exhibits of Utah animals (rattlesnakes, rainbow trout and turtles mainly) was simply amazing. Meeting the famous bear was SO incredible that I had to shake his hand again, but since he was the entree act, I figured anyone who shook his famous hand was required to make at least a token appearance through the building's exhibits. I tried to hurry and I thought my parents had seen me, but they were long gone before I finished and exited the building. Bad parents? No. That's just what I get for growing up in a large family. They didn't realize my neurotic tendencies started so young. Luckily, we had established that if any of us were lost, we were to return to our car. After realizing I was gone and looking all over, my mother had a gut feeling to go back to the car. Mom first doubted that feeling because there were like 500 cars in the lot, but I wasn't as dumb as they thought. After the feeling practically hit her over the head that she needed to go to the car, she did. My mother hasn't ever been so happy to see me as she was that day. This year, unfortunately, the wildlife building was just a bunch of dumb poster displays and fliers. No animals and NO Smokey the Bear. At least Rebecca's parents didn't lose her while she fulfilled obligations brought on by hand shaking a famous bear.
5) Eat a corn dog. The fair corn dogs are awesome with extra fat injected in.
6) Tease a vendor into thinking you are interested in their product.
7) Take pictures of the butter sculpture.
8) Take a tour of the hand-crafted arts building and say, "I'm better than that. Where's my blue ribbon?" at least 14 times, promising to race home and start crafting tomorrow for next year's fair. Of course, I never do, so next year I'll have something to complain about.
9) Look through the county exhibits and complain about why Salt Lake County's exhibit (the capitol and host county) either sucks or why, like this year, SLC County didn't bother to even submit an entry. I bet Peter Corroon, SLC County Mayor, walked through and mumbled, "We're better than that. Where's our blue ribbon?" I'd tell him the same thing I tell myself, "You need to be in it to win it." If I see him on his re-election drive, I won't ask about the soccer stadium or fiscal responsibility. For me, it's all about showing up the other counties. Or is that showing down the other counties? Not sure, but I'm annoyed all the same.
10) Count all the people who are heavier than I am. This may sound cruel, but it is one of the few things that boosts my self esteem. Even on my fattest day, there is a good bet that at least 147 heavier people (this year's number) are trudging or wheeling themselves on scooters through the fair. Seriously, we could group together and create our own parade. We'd better not, though, because the moment we started, people would probably boo and start throwing things at us like corn dogs and funnel cakes and we all know that would be the end of the parade. For those of you who know me, only counting 147 fat people really bugs me. I'm all about achieving a cool number. I know there were at least 3 people who were fatter than I am who didn't get counted this year. They were probably sobbing behind the sheep building after realizing there were corn dogs available for $3.00 when they just paid $5.50 for one. Can you believe it? $5.50 for ONE corn dog? I can get a whole box for $3.00 at the Wal Mart store, but that's a depression kicking trip I save for other parts of the year.

This year, I went with Rebecca and her parents, Michelle and Dave. We had a great time with all the above rules. Rebecca was our resident cow toucher, but I was first in line to pet the pigs, goats and sheep (no sign, so only standard points). The animals all had uniquely putrid smells; much worse than past years. That is why Rebecca is holding her nose in the pig and sheep pictures. Seriously, would a couple of Airwick Stick-Up's and a can of Febreeze break the State's budget? Come on! They are probably on sale, even. Or better yet, get enough for next year and maybe they will give a volume discount. We were pleased to see stations of hand sanitizer at the exits to the various barns. Of course, the smell made us want to bathe and gargle with it, but we lived (in case you wondered).

We annoyed a magic marker sales lady who thought for sure she had at least one sale and maybe two. The pens were really cool in that they would change color when another pen ran on top of them, or disappeared all together. Friends could write secret messages to one another with the "invisible" ink. But, she wanted $24 for a pack and that was my entire net worth at the time.

Rebecca rode a pony and genuinely looked happy doing it. I tried years ago and the horse tried to eat me not once or twice, but three times. This time, I stayed on the outside of the fence. A few years ago, Rebecca's interest in riding a pony instantly dissolved when she was put onto the tame creature. Her screaming made me wonder if we were still shopping at the WalMart store. This year, she was easily the cutest little girl there.

The butter sculpture was really cool this year. It seems they have finally shrugged off the Winter Olympics themed butter sculptures. Although impressive and yes, we all enjoy a sentimental journey down memory lane, it was six years ago and I'm glad we have finally moo'ved on (little cow humor there). I have included the picture this year's sculpture was based on. It doesn't show, but they added broken eggs (shells in one section and below, a perfectly shaped egg white/yolk). You can see the spilling gallon of milk (buttermilk, I guess you'd say) they added on the right by the cat. I'm super impressed.

This year something new was introduced, which is extremely rare since the Fair has been "just add water to last year's mold" for decades. They had a hands on discovery farm exhibit for the kids. Rebecca gathered corn from the grain silo, fed it to the cow, then milked said cow. She then went on to gather seeds, plant them, then harvest her tomato (other kids planted/harvested onions and carrots). She picked an apple from an orchard, drove a tractor and sheered a sheep. Rebecca then took the products of her labor to market where she sold them to a distributor who gave her a State Fair dollar bill. From there, she went to a grocery store and bought food (an apple) with the newly earned money. This hands on approach to teaching kids how things get on their plate was incredible. I wish they had that exhibit when I was a kid.

I'm including a short movie of Dave and Rebecca going down the big slide. I was dumb and turned the camera thinking I could simply rotate the image later. Nope. Sorry. =( So, kindly turn your head. If you are afraid of turning your head, then feel free to watch the movie sideways.

Killers vs. The Killers

A few weeks back, my good friend, Josh, posted a blog about going to a concert with his friend, Christine. The Killers were in concert and he was all excited to go. For those who know me, I'm musically illiterate unless it has been on Broadway or in a movie. Ok, so that is probably going a bit far, but it is no understatement to say I'm musically challenged at best.

Valuing Josh's opinion about most things, and seeing the potential for becoming a more well rounded person (without the aid of chocolate), I decided to trust his judgment and take a listen. Although I had never even heard of a group called The Killers, I trusted Josh wouldn't get so excited to go see anything too bizarre. =) I went to my library web site and typed in "Killers." This brought up one album by Iron Maiden, which I consider devil music. Golly, just look at the picture. That's devil music for sure. But, since Josh was SO pro-Killers, I requested it. I had to wait a week or so since many other people wanted to hear the album as well. That was a good sign, I figured, meaning Josh must be on to something.

Before it arrived, I mentioned my enthusiasm for broadening my musical horizons to a co-worker I thought would be well educated in music outside the realm of Broadway. Ben suggested I cancel the library request since he was pretty sure Josh didn't mean "Killers" by Iron Maiden. He said there is a group called The Killers. If Josh had gone to the Killers tour of Iron Maiden, Ben thought the name Iron Maiden would have come up at least once in Josh's blog, which it didn't. So, I put on my research hat and quickly realized I had devil music on the way for no good reason. Unfortunately, it was too late as the album was already in transit. (Eww, that efficient library staff.)

I found The Killers had two albums in the library holdings. Sam's Town and Sawdust. The good thing was all three albums became available on the same day. First, I gave a listen to the Iron Maiden, figuring my history of LDS contemporary and Broadway soundtracks could use some intellectual broadening. Actually, from the cover, I was ready to hate it and had to listen just to be fair. I don't want people to think of me as a judgmental bitch. So, I hated most of the album and hope to never be subject to devil music again. However, I found that I really liked the first track, The Ides of March. It is mostly instrumental and doesn't have that "I'd rather be shoving an ice pick in my eye than listen to any more" quality the rest of the album carries. I suggest renting the album from the library just for that track. Don't look at the pictures, though, especially the one behind the CD, as you may need to go talk to your Bishop afterwards.

Needless to say (but I'm saying it anyway), the two albums from The Killers proved to be less mentally jarring. They have a sound that proved easier to swallow than Iron Maiden and on the second listen, I have started to really like some of the songs. Mr. Brightside and Leave the Bourbon on the Shelf are among my favorite. I can certainly see why Josh likes this music and would have enjoyed their concert.

I feel more musically literate for having taken a listen and suggest you do as well. I haven't yet, but will try to update my playlist with a few of their songs in the next few days. Until then, pop on over to Josh's blog (link on the right side of my blog). He has added a few songs (Including Mr. Brightside) to his playlist. Enjoy! Let me know what you think of the music.

The Corrupt Shall Offend No More...

My Voice has been silenced.
My Protests left unheard.
My Screams for mercy ignored.
My Shouts for justice fall gracefully on deaf ears.

The vile stench comes pouring out and corrodes all it touches.

I feel as though my soul has been raped and left for dead.
I am a shell only resembling the past.

I am dead inside.

JDRF 2008 Walk to Cure Diabetes

My good friend at work, Mr. Kent Bob, is one of those brave individuals who pricks their fingers over and over and over, then has to give himself shots just to live. I admire people like Kent Bob because I'm not sure I would have balls enough to continually prick my finger even if I had to.

At work, they sent an email announcing the Juvenile Diabetes walk and I asked Mr. Kent Bob if he planned to participate. He replied that he hadn't, but really should. It was a 5K affair through Wheeler Farm, a place I had previously only driven past. In a brave, perhaps overly enthusiastic and definitely overly optimistic tone, I offered to walk with Kent in this walk if he walked with me during the 10K Utah AIDS Foundation walk in September. He agreed as he had already been thinking about the AIDS walk.

On the appointed day we went, but ended up having to park a very long ways from the event, easily 2K. When we started, we asked the registration booth if we could count the long walk from the car, but they didn't seem to understand what we were saying. We went for the walk, but really don't think the course through the farm was 5K. It was possible that we needed to complete two or three laps, but when asked, no one seemed to even know, so we only did one. But, combined with the great distance to and from our cars, I believe we did far more than 5K that day. Knowing that I didn't cheat the JDRF on distance helps me sleep at night. =)

Those at the registration tent did know that a donation of $100 was required to get a t-shirt (kind of a reward or prize for helping the cause so significantly). I had other ideas. Do you see this face? This is my, "I just completed your grueling walk so hurry up and give me a damn t-shirt before I have a heart attack and die right here" look. It worked. It worked well enough to also get Kent Bob a shirt. Ironically, the shirt is far too small to wear. 2X, my foot.

I took a look at the AIDS Foundation web site. They have a description of the 10K route. I'm thinking the heart attack may be for real next time if I try 10K and maybe volunteering at a water station would be better. To get in shape for the AIDS walk, I have watched people exercise on those infomercials and have thought every time that I should actually get up and follow along. But, just as my motivation hits a peak and I'm ready to get off the couch, the infomercial changes to a magic pasta cooker or hair out of a spray can and I'm hooked. Can't exercise to a spray can ad, now can I? Seriously, both causes are worthy of my honest effort and I'm very pleased to have done more than just thought about getting involved. If you'd like to join me on the AIDS walk, it is September 20th in the morning. Let me know. We can motivate each other.

Another Day on the Train

For those who know me, this weekend is typically when I journey to Cedar City and enjoy the Utah Shakespearean Festival. Unless I have been living out of state at the time (remember that "fun" mission in the Washington DC suburbs and a rather good go at grad school in Kalamazoo?), it is a good bet since 1989 that during the weekend before Labor Day would find me at the Festival. I have come to love the whole experience of the Festival and plan many years of future attendance. Here is a picture of the Tony award they won a few years ago. The production quality and overall theater experience in Cedar frequently rivals what I saw in New York on Broadway. The Tony was very deserved. If you have not gone, let's go. Next year's line up looks really good.

Unfortunately, this year was not like other years and I did not go down to Cedar. Nor will I venture down for the fall season that starts in a few weeks. Most of this is due to a serious lack of finances and payback for all the travel I did in 2007 (for those who may not have remembered, I went with Josh in April to LA to see Wicked-FABULOUS!-, I went with my family to Yellowstone in May, then to Bear Lake with Josh for my birthday in June, Shakespeare in the summer (yes, with Josh), Shakespeare in the fall (no, I went without Josh. Gosh. We aren't attached at the hip!) and then to Germany to see Josh in December. What a year! It was wonderful.).

This year, the funds have dried up and it feels like I haven't gone and won't be going anywhere for a very long time. =( The Shakespeare Festival is also rerunning several of their crowd favorites because they know people will still come to see them with $4.00 gas. Even though they change directors and the interpretations of the plays can be completely different, my responsible side says, "I gotta no money" (yes, there is a story to that quote, but that's for another time) and I stay home. I just can't justify spending the money to go see a play I've seen six times already, though each viewing has been a treat and I know the current year would be no exception. I usually say I'm not going, then get itchy and nervous, kind of like a crack addict who just needs a fix. It isn't pretty until I get a little Shakespeare. =) This year? Nope. I'm staying home and not crying a minute.

Now for the past several years, I have gone three days to the Festival, then about three hours out to the family reunion in Enterprise (about 45 miles west of Cedar City). This allowed me to visit the relatives I didn't loathe (mostly that category includes the family I hang out with all the time in Salt Lake with the added adventure of maybe seeing a rattlesnake or scorpion), attend the family dinner (always a battle between the wind, bees and a chorus of crabbing due to the late start time and slow cooking corn on the cob) and family meeting before going home. I won't bore you with the details here, but I'm never going to the reunion again. Let's just suffice it to say I'm right and that I hope a few certain crabby old ladies do a quick job of dropping dead. The offending men can stick around because I believe they have been unfairly influenced by the aforementioned old ladies, and because I give a little more leeway to people with penises. Am I sexist? Of course. Boys are better. Deal with it. I used to say crabby old men with shriveled skin flutes were of no interest, but that was before Bob Dole came to our rescue. (If you are a boy who needs a date, let me know. I'm probably available.) Should this surprise or shock you? Let me ask one question: Have you met me? Quoting from a favorite Queer Duck, "I'm as Gay as a Goose."

Before my accountant informed me there really wasn't any money in my account, I had planned to spend today as Shirley D. Licious hosting a fun bus with the Utah Cyber-Sluts to Wendover. I simply did not have the money to get a costume together, pay the $25 fee and rent a room to shower and clean up from the make up. Though, as Shirley D., I probably could have turned a trick or two in Wendover. Gays lovingly refer to it as "Bendover" if you understand my meaning. =) So, I was pretty bummed when I realized going was not an option. With my regular set of groupies (Mom, Rebecca and her clan) planning to be at the reunion, I was probably going to have nothing better to do than pull weeds. I know! Can you imagine ever being so desperate? Michelle came to my rescue.

Instead of going to the reunion, my sister Michelle decided to have an emergency appendectomy. With the surgery a day before she was planning to go down, her doctor said she was absolutely not allowed to go six hours in a car each way. With Michelle in pain, I decided to take Rebecca on an adventure so her mom could rest for a few hours. We started the day at Doug and Emmy's for scones (if you haven't been, what is keeping you? Gosh! I've promoted their yummy scones like a hundred times!!!). Although the food was great as usual, we were put off by the wait-staff's attitude. I'd tell you what it was all about, but you'd probably take their side and that I'm overreacting. I'm not. Believe me.

Rebecca and I went on the FrontRunner train from Layton to Ogden and back. In Ogden, we walked to the historic Union Station where they have a wonderful train museum. Inside, they have really cool displays, an interesting film about the history and types of trains (not boring at all. Really.) They have a caboose car that we both had to climb to the top seats (yes, even I made it up the ladder) and a just freight scale that told me I was just as fat as when I weighed myself at home BEFORE the scone. In your face, Weight Watchers! Lol.

Rebecca found the horn of the modified engine car and enjoyed seeing the mini-trains go past on all the miniature displays. There was so much to see and do in that museum that we will have to go back. Our purchased pass would have allowed us to go visit the antique firearm museum and antique car museum (also in Union Station), but we didn't have time for them before the train going back to Layton was ready to go. We had a wonderful time in Ogden and will have to return. If Shakespeare doesn't look out and start producing some of the non-cash-cow shows, I may need to change my Labor Day weekend destination to Ogden. =)

As a side note, we found many very friendly people along our route, one of whom told us of the Odgen Trolley. It is a free bus that makes continual loops around Ogden. You could take FrontRunner to Ogden, then the Trolley to any part of the Ogden downtown. Or, you could walk over to the train museum at Union Station like we did. If you are a cute boy and need a date, I could go with you. We won't mention the screaming boy who looked older than Rebecca, but didn't know how to behave in public, nor the fussy toddler who reminded us of many a trip to the WalMart store. Ugh!. Let's just say that Rebecca was perfectly grown up and well mannered. Afterwards, we were both exhausted and hot, so we just had to go get a shake at the Arctic Circle. Before you get all in my face about getting a shake when I'm fat, I chose a huckleberry sundae thinking the fruit would be healthier than my normal peanut butter cup. Ah, good times. Now, I'm tired and I need to go to bed. Until next time...