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Parks and Saints

Jason and I just had a super crazy week. You know, one of those weeks where you don’t bother unpacking your suitcase from one trip because you will just be leaving again on another excursion a few days later and your house somehow becomes a shrine to clutter even though you’ve been home so scarcely that it doesn’t seem possible that you could’ve had any effect at all on your living space.

We stayed in cottage #7 this year. It was right on the green so Jason got a kick out of watching golfers throw tantrums when their shots went awry.

We spent the beginning of our week in Park City for the Society of Cosmetic Chemists’ annual scientific seminar and golf outing. This event followed its usual format: lectures and dinner the first afternoon and golfing the morning after. Jason typically tags along when I head up to this gathering. He doesn’t golf and he doesn’t get to eat with me and the other scientists at Ruth’s Chris so why is he so eager to go? I know that boy loves me but I think his enthusiasm for escorting me to this function has more to do with the lavish cottage suite at the Hotel Park City that he gets to lounge in while I am off with my fellow chemists than my entertaining personality. These cottage suites are spacious and swanky and go for well over a $1000 a night during Park City’s peak season. With a private patio sporting a gas fireplace and Jacuzzi, it’s easy to see why people are willing to shell out the dough for these accommodations. Luckily, we got a great deal through the SCC’s group rate so we got to enjoy the hotel’s splendor for relative pocket change.

Our suite had its own private patio equipped with a fireplace and Jacuzzi. We sat out there sipping sparkling lemonade from fancy glasses while the brilliant night sky captivated us.
My golf team had the misfortune of being stuck with me. I pity the fool!
Jason decided to go mountain biking at Park City Resort while I was out golfing. Without my voice of reason he got exceptionally lost and ended up on some pretty treacherous terrain. What's pictured here is not that treacherous terrain but a lovely meadow he came across somewhere in the middle of it all.

A few days later we were off to St. George to attempt to see The Little Mermaid again at Tuacahn with Jason’s parents. Those of you that regularly follow my blog may recall that we got rained out when we tried to watch this show in July. We had decided to make a special trip to St. George just to give seeing this production one more chance because we had heard so many impressive things about it. As fate would have it, however, another thunderstorm was right on cue to ruin our fun again. Geez Luis! I would have been majorly disgruntled if we had driven 4 hours solely for the purpose of seeing this show but once more hadn’t been able to finish it. Fortunately, although the weather was constantly on the brink of causing havoc during the performance, the lightening that endlessly illuminating the sky to our northwest never moved in on us. It wasn’t until we were walking back to our car after the show that the heavens let it all loose. Disaster narrowly averted! And the musical was great, with some pretty creative special effects, so it was worthy of our second try.

Scuttle, the bird-brained seagull, was dressed in a full flock of feathers. What a great costume!
Heidi Anderson, who played Ursula, did a fantastic job. She was just the right combination of wicked and witty.
King Triton was a tall fellow; lengthy Jason appeared shrimpy next to him.

Although our retreat to St. George was quick, and we spent more of it driving than anything else, all that car time did allow us to chat with Sue and Keith quite a bit. And since we not only got to watch all of The Little Mermaid but also grab breakfast at The Bear Paw I’d say that it was a trip well spent. (The Bear Paw serves terrific French toast stuffed with brulee cream; I’d highly recommend gorging yourself on it.)

What a busy week spent traveling all over tarnation! But hey, between the green slopes of Park City’s summits and the red cliffs of Tuacahn we got a whirlwind tour of some of the best scenery in Utah not to mention the delight of great company and the pleasure of cultural enlightenment.

Rachel August 31, 2011 No Comments

Salt Lake City Has Brains!

When we were in San Diego a couple weeks ago we were startled to find ourselves in the middle of a sudden zombie invasion. Hundreds of walking dead began ambling down the crowded sidewalks of 5th Avenue one day as we were heading back to our hotel. It was unsettling and amusing all at once. (For a clip of the footage we took refer to my Comic-Khan post.)

Jason's brother Matt and Matt's friend Tabatha were our zombie compadres. And no, I am not normally that pale though it it's probably debatable whether painting myself various shades of grey made a significant difference in my skin tone.

Upon our return home we were surprised to hear that a similar event would be taking place in Salt Lake City just a couple weeks after the one we witnessed in San Diego. Since we are dorks extraordinaire we couldn’t miss this unique opportunity to get our undead stumble on.

I had never dabbled in latex before so I was pretty proud of my initial attempt with this arm wound. Not too shoddy for a first timer.

Jason’s brother Matt and a couple of his friends joined us, and the roughly 2,000 other zombie walkers, for a mile and a half lurch around downtown Salt Lake City last Sunday. What a fun and crazy activity! This horde of corpses, which overflowed the sidewalks for blocks, closely resembled your worst nightmare. We came across many astonished bystanders whose apparent anxiousness only encouraged chasings by rouge zombies. Being among the army of monsters, in contrast to being on the menu, may seem like it would have been a relatively untroubled experience but it wasn’t as carefree as you might think.

The undead horde was waiting here to be released from Pioneer Park.

First of all, I wasn’t anticipating a little decomposing flesh and some oozing wounds turning me into a celebrity. Disgusting must be “in” because there were cameras everywhere. The vacant sneers of us maggot magnets were always met with flashes and glaring lenses…and sometimes screams. Man, if I had known the paparazzi were going to be swarming I would have worn my more fashionable tattered shirt and styled my rotting hair.

Looks like something you'd see in a post-apocalypse city; a chilling reminder of humanity's violent end.
My favorite detail of Matt's costume was his hair accessories: dead leaves adorned his ratty crown. Just what you'd expect to find on the head of someone fresh from the grave.

Secondly, shuffling through post-life may seem like an almost relaxing pursuit, I know we flesh-gnawers make shambling slowly look so easy, but let me assure that dragging one of your limbs behind you in an unnatural fashion and hanging your atrophied arms like limp fish as you stagger over the ground at a maddeningly sluggish pace is anything but comfortable. I’m certain this is why many of the undead gave up on maintaining their swagger as we neared the end of the course. I never relinquished my grotesque authenticity and I had the backache afterward to prove it.

Jason was an eager brain-seeker. He liked to spook those we passed with a lively chase or a menacing groan.
The streets of downtown were literally dripping with blood after our masses staggered through.

Besides the clumsiness and awkward notoriety, being a zombie was also frustrating because your terrified quarry often jumped into trees or over fences as easy as nibbling a toe. How are you supposed to get some brains if holding your rigid arms out in a useless fashion is the most offensive move in your arsenal? What’s a poor hungry zombie to do?

Tennis shoes, a race t-shirt, sweatbands, and a Walkman: how ironic that a runner couldn't escape the clutches of a lumbering zombie. Why didn't someone warn me that it's not a good idea to wear headphones when running in traffic or when the world is teeming with the undead?
This little girl was freaky with a leash around her waist and a brain in her mouth.

So before you start feeling sorry for yourself, and all of those other tasty humans, consider the zombies’ plight. If you tried hobbling a mile and a half in their putrid shoes you might have a little sympathy for those ghouls. After all, most of them probably have a permanently kinked neck and a rumbly tummy. No wonder they’re grouchy; we all know how low blood sugar can affect your outlook on life.

Rachel August 10, 2011 1 Comment

A Blackout Birthday

Do you remember me complaining last month about Jason always getting sick at the most inconvenient times? Well, that illustrious tradition continues.

I had great plans for Jason’s birthday. I’d work half a day while he slept in and relaxed and then we’d catch the new Potter film and go out for a fancy dinner. Sounds nice, right? I thought so too.

Unfortunately, the night before Jason’s big day his tummy started hurting and then, less than an hour after we had gone to sleep, I awoke to him wandering out of our bedroom in a hurry. Somewhere in the recesses of my consciousness I concluded that his stomach issues were probably causing an emergency potty run and then I quickly drifted back to sleep…until I was roused again by a disquieting thud. This unnatural clatter was very loud but I thought it must be a product of my sleepiness since I couldn’t imagine what would cause such a ruckus. It turned out that the clamor was no slumber-induced figment yet a “what” didn’t cause it but a “who” rather.

Jason’s cake featured a huge hand made out of Rice Krispies and tubes that released dry ice smoke from a reservoir below. Special effects and tastiness-now that’s a cake!

Jason had hurried into the bathroom to upchuck and, after doing so, had felt a surge of heat run through him and then all had gone black. He had passed out and hit the tiled bathroom floor hard giving himself some cuts and a monster of a headache. Happy birthday Jason!

Worrying about Jason and all the implications his sickness would mean for his birthday plans kept me up until 5:30 that morning. An hour and a half of sleep is a catnap not a restful slumber. Not a good night for either of the Sabins.

This isn’t the greatest picture of Jas but the kids kept swarming the cake so it’s the best I could get. 

Luckily, Jason’s illness vanished almost as quickly as it had struck. By the time I dragged myself out the door for work the next morning he was already feeling well enough to eat the sweet rolls I had bought him for his birthday breakfast. Yeah! So we still got to see Harry Potter that afternoon as planned (armed with a barf baggie that thankfully we didn’t need to use). We decided to delay going out for an elegant birthday dinner that night though. Jason wasn’t too hip on the possibility of his nice meal boomeranging back up his esophagus, and truthfully I wasn’t terribly stoked about that idea either, so we just got Café Rio takeout and took it easy at home. It wasn’t exactly how I had envisioned his birthday ending but at least it didn’t conclude with more barfing escapades.

Volleyball has become a standard at Jason’s birthday parties and my inability to play it has also become expected. 

The next day I had a party in the park planned for Jason and, since his fluids were once again all properly contained, he was ready to socialize. I bought pizza from Malawi’s for everyone and my friend Robyn made a surprise Hulk cake. She did an amazing job! I totally threw Jason off the scent with a decoy cake so he was completely shocked by his superhero. I am so clever!

His party mostly consisted of the adults eating and chatting at the park’s gazebo while their kids enjoyed the playground. Of course we also brought it on with our customary volleyball tournament. My side won-no thanks to me. At one point my buddy Cameron told me that it would be better for our team if I just didn’t even try to hit the ball. I should have reminded him that whether I tried or didn’t try the outcome would be the same; either way I wouldn’t be making contact with that airborne orb.

Cameron relieved us of all the cherries leftover from the party. I’m guessing he might have had to relieve himself after eating all of those. 

Even though Jason’s birthday started out with a thud at least it didn’t end like a dud. Most of my plans worked out and, although it still hurts Jason to chew, his face deflated after about 24 hours and didn’t bruise too much. Good thing because I think when people say that birthdays are scarring they don’t mean it literally.

Rachel July 19, 2011 4 Comments
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