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

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

Over the weekend I went with ED to the country to do some work at his family’s farm. I’m sure to the majority of you this does not sound like fun. But to me? It’s a little bit of heaven.

I guess I have a bit of a country soul. Plus I am more equipped to be a ranch hand than to help out in the kitchen. Granted I am a ranch hand who wears designer boots, Coach sunglasses and keeps her iPhone next to her at all times. But still. I’m not afraid of a little hard work.  In fact, I even earned the title of a “work horse” by ED’s father.

Trust me, that is a major compliment!

I did my best to capture a little bit of the country charm to share with you. All photos were taken with my iPhone.

 

 

 

More pictures, one’s with faces and whatnot, can be found on my Flickr page.

Blogfully yours (and yeehaw too),

Summer

Finding Home, Out and About

The past two Valentines days have come early for me. ED and I celebrate Valentines the weekend before because I go hiking the weekend of… without him.

I think my friend Sarah put it best when ED was pretending to pout about me being gone over Valentines Day. Sarah simply stated, “Summer’s  had hiking a lot longer than she’s had you. Sorry.”  (I freaking love that girl)

Not that he minds, quite the opposite really. We are able to get reservations and avoid the love bird crowds. What’s not to love?

This year we had a lovely dinner at Martine’s and went to a show called “Avenue Q”. For those of you not familiar with Avenue Q, it is pretty much Sesame Street for adults.

It’s filled with irreverent humor, underlying social issues and songs such as, “The Internet is for porn,” “Everyone’s a little bit racist,” and “If you were gay.”

To say it was hilarious is an understatement. Would I recommend it to any of my friends? ABSOLUTELY!

Would I recommend it to any of my Mormon relatives? Let’s just say during the scene where the puppets were having sex on stage while Gary Coleman sang “you can be as loud as the hell you want when you’re making love,” the audience lost a few members. So, no, I would not recommend it to anyone easily offended.

After the show was over, I was remarking to ED how I thought the crowd at the theater was easily 20 years older than the crowd at the concert I went to last weekend. Can you believe he had the audacity to point out to me – ON OUR VALENTINES DAY DATE – that I am actually closer in age to the average theater goer than I was to the “alcohol free” concert crowd!

THE NERVE!

That is, until I realized he was right.

Damn. I hate when he is right.

Here’s wishing that all of your Valentines dates — whatever you do and whoever you spend it with — are filled with many laughs and someone who makes you feel, ahem,  younger.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

ED is not Emotionally Disturbed, Out and About

In my ideal world, I would get to spend two to three days per week in the mountains doing various activities which would be dependent on the season i.e. hiking, snowshoeing, skiing.

My ideal world would kick ass.

My “real” world however, doesn’t afford me the free time to get up into the mountains as much as I would like.

I’ve often called the mountains my “sanity” or “peace of mind.” Being one with nature makes me happy, not to mention it rejuvenates and ground me.

I swear, I could write sonnets about the damn mountains.

On Sunday, despite my better scholastic judgment (homework is overrated, right?), I worshiping the snow gods and thoroughly enjoying the fresh powder they threw down along with the company of one of my best friends, Heidi.

We ran into some friends at the lodge who we met for a brew after shredding the mountain. Ha! Who am I kidding?  Heidi and I are solid BLUE skiers. We gracefully carve our way down the mountain. You can hardly call our style of skiing “shredding!”

While having a beer, our friends they told us an absolutely appauling story. They said they sat next to two guys from San Franciso on the lift who said they had been in Park City for three days to ski and today was their last day. They continued on to say how they had such beautiful weather for the past three days and now, on thier last day, they get this shitty weather.

WHAT? Um… excuse me?

Only people from San Francisco* would consider a perfect powder ski day – which wasn’t very cold either – “shitty weather.”

Sheesh. 

Here’s hoping their flight back was delayed by our shitty weather.

Also, that the sanity I got while in the mountains keeps me grounded through the rest of the week.

Oh and if it’s not too much trouble, that the snow gods put in a good word with the homework gods for me!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

*no offense if you are from San Francisco. But a little respect for the snow, man. This is Utah after all.

Out and About

For Christmas, my darling friend Karina the Russian bought concert tickets to see the band Brand New for my sister Staci, me and of course for herself. We had been counting down the days until the show and when the day finally rolled around WE WERE STOKED!

Staci and I have been listening to this little known alternative rock band for around six years. Karina is a bit more of a recent convert, but a fan nonetheless.

Before the show we met up for sushi and saki.

We really didn’t pay much attention to where the concert was being held until a few days before the show when we looked at our tickets and it said The Salt Palace Convention Center.  Which we thought was odd to have a smaller band held at a convention center, but whatever, WE WERE STILL STOKED!

After paying $7 for parking we wandered through the huge building following people wearing skinny jeans and flannel to the concert hall.

SIDENOTE: What is up with flannel coming back into style? Ugh!

When we finally got to the large concrete room where the concert was going to be. Naturally, we went straight up to the concession stand to purchase beer. Only… this was an all age show so there was no beer being served.

Not wanting to believe this to be true, we searched the room looking for people holding beer cups – there were none to be seen. What was to be seen, was thousands of  sober, angsty teenagers.

We walked around the perimeter, just to make sure we were not missing something and to further survey the crowd, but sadly, our biggest fear was realized, we were the “old people”  at a concert!

After the concert Karina apologized for it not being all we had hoped it would be. I told her “don’t you dare apologize!” Because even though we were sober and the oldest people there, we still had a great time and got to spend some much needed time together – something we don’t get to do nearly enough anymore.

Oh, and added bonus? We will all actually remember this concert AND none of us got beer spilled in our hair.

I’ll call that a win any day.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Concert whore, Out and About

Over the weekend, along with doing things like drinking wine with the girls, getting my butt kicked in a country-style training session, going to a free Utah JAZZ game (8th row, baby!), being tortured at a piano bar, going up on the perfect powder ski day only to be turned away because the “resort was full” AND doing homework; I dog sat.

It’s like babysitting, only without any poppy diapers. You simply play with them as much as possible, feed them the correct amount and get puppy snuggles all night long.

Dogs have a great way of making people happy.

These two girls put a smile on my face after returning home slightly scarred from more than “off-key” drunks singing Journey, Ice Cube and Garth Brooks at a piano bar.

Now THAT’S saying something!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Out and About, Random

If you know a Mormon, you know that Jello is a big thing in their culture. Why? I was raised by them and I still have no idea.

Last weekend I was invited to a girls only dinner party. Everyone was assigned to bring something and my assignment was dessert. Normally I’d pick up a cheesecake or some donuts at the store and call it good, but the girls hosting the party are all foodies! They LOVE to cook which is totally awesome because I get to eat their yummy cooking but also lame because then I feel like my store bought goodness is not adequatly made with love.

Truth be told, the girls really wouldn’t have cared what I brought. It’s more the competitive cooking gene those damn Mormons implanted in my brain through all of those young womens activities.

So, here it is (my mother will be so proud). Proof I cooked… a jello dessert.

This in not just any jello dessert, mind you, this is a THREE LAYER jello dessert!

Layer one:

Layer two:

Layer Three:

All to make THIS:

Obviously I’m no Julia Child, but my foodie friend was impressed enough to post the recipe on her foodie blog, which totally made my day.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Out and About

I realize I am probably the last person to get around to posting about New Years, but here it is anyway.

For New Years, ED and I decided to host a little get together with a few of our closest friends. It was thrown together at the last minute, but somehow we were able to pull off one of the best New Years parties I have ever been to.

My sister Staci recommended we make it a formal mascarade party, which meant not only did we invite our guests less than a week before the party, we also requested they come up with some sort of a mask too!

Are we the best hosts or what?

I feel incredibly lucky that so many of our friends were able to make it. Some ran into babysitter issues and some had already made plans, but I think it is safe to say that those who came had a great time.

I should clarify that there were actually men present at this party. But none quite as dashing as my darling ED.

Although he looks  like a superhero here, he didn’t come to my rescuing until later on. Before everyone started arriving to the party, ED decided to shine up the hard wood floors. He sprayed the floor with Pledge and mopped over it with a flat dusting mop. The floors looked beautiful, but were slicker than an ice rink! Even after we tried to clean the Pledge off the floor we had to tell all of our guests to walk carefully — especially the women in their high heels!

However, it was not until right after the stroke of midnight when we went outside to watch the fireworks, that I slid on the actual ice and landed right on my ass! Not to worry though, my masked hero came running to sweep me up.

Happy New Years everyone! Here’s to an amazing 2010!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

ED is not Emotionally Disturbed, Holidays, Out and About

Last week I ignored much of what was going on in the real world after I found out Zach had died. I was caught up with my own personal mourning, viewings and funerals. When my friend Heidi asked me if I was still planning on going to the Paint the Town Red party–an AIDS benefit held at Hotel Monaco–I had all but forgotten.

I lied and told her I had been planning on it.

On Wednesday I went to the mall and shopped half-heartedly for an outfit to wear, still dressed in black from the funeral I had attended only five hours earlier. I found a red top, figured it would work, and called it a night.

The next night I wrote, “Tonight the red lipstick comes out” on my Facebook status. The responses I received were overwhelming; everyone cheering me on and encouraging me to live life.

Feeding off of that energy, I put a smile on my face, painted that smile with my brightest shade of red lipstick, and met up with Heidi and Tammy for a night of fun with a good cause behind it.

While I can’t say that big ‘ol smile remained the entire night–I ran into friends who asked about Zach and I may have cried just a tad at dinner–it felt good to have a night devoted to fun and to spending time with my girls. I am so thankful to them for taking me out and showing me that life still goes on.

I think Zach would be happy to see me smile. Although he is, he never would have wanted to be the source of pain or sadness for anyone. I’m sure, if he was here, he would have loved to hear the stories from that night. He probably would scold me when I told him I walked by myself three blocks, downtown, in the rain, to get the car (we were all in heels, but my feet were holding up the best and I refused to get a taxi for such a short distance). He would have told me I need to be safe, and that I better have had mace on me! He was always so protective…

*sigh*

Man I miss him.

The next morning I woke up and saw lipstick on my pillow case; I guess I didn’t wash it off before going to bed.

It made me smile though, as I remembered the night. It was the first morning I had woken up and smiled in over a week.

Oh the power of red lipstick.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Out and About