Guess what season it is?

Spring?

Nope.

IT’S CONCERT SEASON! Even better than spring!

To kick off concert season I got a pair of VIP tickets for Karina the Russian and I to see Train perform at an outdoor concert. I spent the morning listening to all their CD’s in preparation.

Karina and I decided to take public transportation down so we wouldn’t have to deal with parking. When TRAX rolled to our stop downtown we unloaded and immediately sensed there was a problem.

There was no music playing.

Which is odd because the train drops you off pretty much right infront of the venue. Still we walked over to check it out.

There were no people.

So we looked at each other, sat down on a bench and pulled out the tickets. I looked over at her confused.

Me: “It says Gallivan Center… on the 22nd… I don’t understand.”

KTR: “That’s because today is the 24th, honey, not the 22nd.”

After laghing non-stop for a good ten minutes at just how freaking blonde we both are, we decided to get a drink and figure out what to do next.

We went to a little bar on Main Street called Murphy’s. After thumbing through the local entertainment magazine to try to find something to do, it became apparent that there was nothing going on.

So we sat at the bar, still laughing at our predicament, then Karina looked up and noticed a bunch of figurines that looked Irish. ”Do you think this is an Irish bar?”

I looked to the left at a menu and sure enough, green clovers… on a menu… at a bar called Murphys. “Yes honey, I am pretty sure we are at an Irish bar.”

This is when our brilliant “Plan B” began to take form. We were going to have no plan what-so-ever. Just go from bar to bar. BUT each bar should represent a different country.

We are soooo brilliant after two drinks!

Our next stop was a little place called The Beer Hive. When we got there we decided to add two new components to our journey. 1) order whatever the specialty drink is and 2) talk with an accent. An English accent.

We were honestly convinced that The Beer Hive was a German bar because the menu had all German food on it. However, when we asked the waitress if you had to be German to work there she informed us just how wrong we were.

Bloody hell!

Our next stop was a quick one to a place called Speak Easy. After sampling the bar tenders special, A blushing Vagina, we figured it wasn’t culturally diverse enough for us and moved on…

Oh Sushi! was the perfect stop as we were in desperate need of some sustinance grub by this point.

After leaving Japan, we had a moment of hesitation as to whether the night should end or continue on. Of course, the answer was to continue on!

Next stop?

Well… we were British after all, so a bar called Cheers to You would be foriegn, right?

We stayed long enough to have their special, a Rootbeer Mind Eraser chased by two large glasses of water, and were on our way to our last stop.

Itally.

Unfortunately we didn’t remember to take a picture while at Kristauffs Martini bar.

Bollocks!

In fact, we didn’t remember to order their specialy drink either. We just ordered water and headed back to where we started.

Sometimes the best nights are the nights you don’t plan and who says there is nothing fun to do in Salt Lake City anyway? All you need is an imagination, and a friend willing to experience the journey with you.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

K to the R stories, Out and About, Posts Grandma won't approve of

Did I mention that I got asked to join a cooking club? No? Well that’s probably because I’ve only gone once and the only cooking I had to do involved drinking multiple saki-bombs while watching someone else roll sushi for us. I guess that’s not really cooking. That’s called awesome. Which is why I thought this club was perfect for me. That is, until they told me April’s theme was eggs and that I actually had to cook something.

Damn. Should have known it was too good to be true.

Still, I knew there would be booze involved so I figured I would just have to summon my inner domestic diva and whip up something amazing to blow the group away. In other words, I called my mom for help.

Lemon Meringue pie is not exactly the best choice for a novice cook like myself. All I knew was that it used both egg yolks and whites and that my mom makes it every year for my dad’s birthday.

I made sure to documented my cooking, just in case the pie turned out SO amazing that no one believed I actually made it. Because clearly, I want that credit.

So, now I am sure you are wondering if the pie actually tasted as good as it looked, right?

Well… it tasted as good as it “looked.” Past tense. I made the pie on Saturday and by Sunday evening the meringue had separated from the lemon.

Eff.

At least I tried.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – if you want to see all of the super yummy, non-runny, egg-citing dishes that my cooking club made, click on over to my friend Summer’s blog (I know what are the chances of two Summer’s being friends AND in the same cooking club?). Oh, and the talented Bake – a – Holic Summer also does catering. Just saying.

Cooking AKA Drinking club, Loved One(s)

The other night, I was cuddled up in bed next to my sweetheart, softly dreaming away. Only my dreams are never actually soft, mostly they are twisted and on the rare occasion they are downright physical.

I can’t say for certain, because dreams are always a little hazy, but what I remember of this night’s dream was that ED was training me and Sarah at the gym and every time she would turn her head he would try to grab my ass or grope me in some kind of flirty way. I kept telling him to knock that shit off because I didn’t want to get caught or embarass my friend. Finally, after telling him several times to quit it, I got so frustrated that I punched him.

Only I punched him in real life.

Of course it woke him up. Confused he asked, “Babe… did you just punch me in the back?”

Half awake I mumbled, “Sorry… In my dream you deserved it.”

A little while later on this same night, ED started talking in his sleep! Not just inaudible sentences either. He started speaking as if he was perfectly wide awake. It woke me and I half sat up and said, “sweetie, what are you talking about?”

He told me he was showing someone the gym, rolled over and went back to sleep.

That morning, ED had to get up early to train a client. He is a well trained good man and does his best not to disturb me so I can sleep in. As he bent down to kiss me goodbye, I woke up enough to tell him again that I really was sorry for punching him in the back.

He just laughed.

Apparently he is getting used to my brand of crazy. Which is a good thing, because it’s starting to wear off on him too.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating, ED is not Emotionally Disturbed, Story Time

Conversations you might overhear if you worked where I work.

Me: Hey Becky, how do you spell “bawk”?

Becky: Bawk?

Me: You know, as in what a chicken says. Baaaawk. Baaaawk.

Becky: Baaawk. Baaawk?

Dean: Let me Google it.

Becky: Baaaaaawk. Baaaawk.

Me: I am pretty sure it is b-a-w-k, right? I mean, b-o-w-k doesn’t seem right. Or b-a-k would just be pronounced as “back.”

Becky: Baaaawk. Baaaawk. Bawk. Bawk.

Dean: OK, I found it. This is one of my favorite commercials as a kid. I still love it.

Obviously we are not solving the worlds problems here at the circus. Well, unless the worlds problems revolve around farm animal sounds and spelling bees, then we’ve totally got that shit covered!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Circus life

I have been blessed with truly a-freaking-mazing friends.

A few days ago, I had confided to one such a-freaking-mazing friend, Sarah, about a hard day I was anticipating. The morning of said day, she sent me the following email:

Good luck today, honey.

I’ve provided a list of things you CAN and should be excited about.

1) That you didn’t break out like I did. I took one for the team on this. You’re so welcome.

2) Checking accounts that allow us to have our faces peeled off. Huzzah!

3) We get to have our hippie cards read this weekend, followed by a shopping trip (please?).

4) I have portable movie theater wine in my spice cupboard so if you need to escape for a couple of hours we can get drunk and giggle through a movie. DUDE, that’s way exciting.

5) Warm weather is just around the corner so you get to wear less clothing and show off all the hard work at the gym. Being hot is always something to be excited over.

6) You work for a company that not only encourages drinking, but sometimes provides adult juice.

7) I just watched the trailer for “Sex and the City” 2. The movie coming out, EXCITING! And the fact you don’t own harem pants like the girls do, VERY EXCITING!!

8) New York

9) The fact we can afford cabs in NY and I won’t drag you on the subway only to get us lost. And freaking mugged.

10) Glitter. I don’t have a specific reason for you to be excited about glitter, but just knowing we live in a world with glitter makes me super happy.

After reading her list for me it fully put my life into perspective. I have SO much to be grateful for. People who love me, chemical peels, vacations, warm weather, chick flicks, and glitter.

What more could a girl ask for? I submit the answer to be: not a damn thing!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Circus life, Loved One(s)

Date night is always fun, especially when it involves getting dressed up with one of your best friends.

Heidi and I decided we were due for one of these nights. We bought tickets to the Cabaret of Fools fund raiser for the Ririe Woodbury Dance Theater, knowing next to nothing about what the event would be like.

When we first arrived, we grabbed a few glasses of wine and began bidding on the silent auction items.

I think I bid on about ten.

I have no idea what they were for.

Fortunately we became distracted by the free hors d’oeuvre. We made the mistake of thinking they were the dinner that came with the tickets. So we chowed down thinking we better get our moneys worth of mini quiches, meanwhile all my silent bids were put to shame.

Two… or possibly three, drinks later, we found out there was still a full dinner to be served as well as entertainment, a live auction and dancing. We bought a few more drink tickets and entered the “entertainment” room we knew nothing about.

The great/messed-up thing about fund raising events like this is they know peoples wallets get proportionately loser with the amount of alcohol they ingest. Such was certainly true of the man at our table who, during the live auction, paid $250 for a package of chocolates, or the person who paid $600 for a case of 24 bottles of wine (valued at $440).

Heidi and I actually bid on the bottles of wine. We made a quick decision to combine our money and bid. Our max was $200.

Obviously, we’re hardcore gamblers.

Two-ish more drinks later we decided to leave.

Needing to sober up, we decide to walk in our high heels to another bar downtown. We couldn’t bring ourselves to enter a bar playing techno music or one filled with the “yeah bros and shiny hoes,” so we walked for quite some time and ended up at a little place called Kristauf’s Martini Bar which is totally decent if you’re ever in downtown Salt Lake City.

The rest of the night is a little hazy. All I know is I woke up at 3 in the morning smelling like McDonalds and feeling like death.

I’m such a light weight, why I thought I could keep up with the fund-raising socialite crowd is beyond me. Looking back now, I remember watching them pour a drink 3/4 full of booze with just a splash of  mixer for color.

Jokes on them though, it doesn’t matter how strong you make my drinks, I’ll still never pay $250 for chocolates.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Out and About, Posts Grandma won't approve of

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a TMI post. Truth is I’ve been busy. Taking the time to write anything with too much thought has just not made it to the top of the priority list. But in taking so much time off, I kind of forgot how much I really do love to write.

Earlier this week, when I finally took the time to write things that were not work or school related, I remembered. Ideas started flowing and I didn’t want to go to bed. I wanted to just write and write.

And I did, until two in the morning.

One topic that was most on my mind was steps in relationships. I’ve been in relationships before that were rushed. I made the mistake once of letting a man move in with me two weeks after we had met. I thought I knew him and everything would turn out alright.

No surprise, it didn’t.

With ED things are the polar opposite. He is not one to rush or be rushed and I am not one to have to learn my lesson twice. From the word “go” it’s been baby steps. We started out very cautious and careful with each other. Then, it was almost like a switch went off. We both let down our guards and enjoyed one another without the suspicious eye or a guarded hearts.

It was fucking awesome.

I still remember the day when ED said to me, “I don’t think you realize just how much I love you.”

And I didn’t. At least not at first.

But now? Now I know that he is not going anywhere. I know that I am not going anywhere. I simply can’t imagine my life without him. The guard is down and I love this safe feeling I have when I am with him.

So what is the next not-so-baby step for us?

Moving in together.

Not tomorrow, or next month, but soon enough. It’s been almost four years since I rushed in and lived with a man. This is different. This is calculated, this is planned. It may not sound romantic, but it is better. It’s two people in love who just don’t want to spend any more time apart.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

TMI Friday

Some people don’t dream very often.

I am not some people.

In fact, I’ve written about a slasher dream and mentioned other messed up dreams on here before.

This post is not about a messed up dream however. This post is about an awesome dream.

In the middle of attempting to study over the weekend, I dozed off. When I woke up I had to text ED immediately to tell him about the dream I had.

“I just woke up from the hottest dream! We were making out all over the city in the middle of the day…narrowly missing being caught by a bunch of school kids. Also, we may or may not have shot someone.”

“Interesting. I like the idea, but why were the school kids trying to catch us?”

“They weren’t. We were near a park they were walking thru.”

“Wait… did you say we shot someone?”

“Possibly. I had run to the tween who was thrown from the car and to grab the gun, when I turned around someone had been shot. It’s all really complicated.”

“You have the craziest dreams.”

“I know! If by crazy you mean awesome!”

“Well of course I mean awesome!”

Blogfully yours,

Summer

ED is not Emotionally Disturbed

It’s been a little while since I’ve shared a Karina the Russian story. While I wasn’t present for this, I found it too hilarious not to share.

Karina was driving in the car with her young son Dima. They were listening to one of their favorite songs, singing along to the radio. As the song ended the DJ came on the air and said, “That was Gives You Hell by The All American Rejects.”

A few moments passed. Then Dima quizzically asked his mother, “Can only Americans be rejects? Are there Russian rejects too?”

Poor Karina.

She laughed so hard tears were running down her face. She had to pull over so she wouldn’t run off the road.

Finally, when she regained composure, she reassured him, “There is no such thing as a Russian reject honey, because Russians are perfect.”

Blogfully yours,

Summer

K to the R stories, Story Time

ED is adorable with kids.

They love him. Maybe its because he is a giant kid himself. He can pull hair and give a wet willy with the worst best of them. I guess that would make him more of a giant 12 year old boy than kid, but you get the picture.

While down in the county, ED and his nephew were stomping on ants on the driveway. ED asked his nephew if he knew the real way to kill ants. Of course he didn’t so ED sent him in to grab the large magnifying glass from the front room.

After practicing setting twigs on fire for a while, it was time for the real deal.

To ED’s credit,  he did his best to turn it into an educational opportunity. He explained how the glass catches the sun and turns the light into a “laser beam.”  Also, that you should never do this to start any real fires, only to burn ants.

He’s going to be such a great father one day.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

ED is not Emotionally Disturbed