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Trekking Through Penalties and Loses

We opened the new year with an eventful weekend stuffed with the variety of life. From nerdy contests, to gorgeous vistas, to embarrassing punishments: there was something for everyone and a whole lot for us.

I think Ryan must have harnessed the mental prowess of the Vulcans with his Spock costume. I’m sure that’s the only reason he beat me this time.
I made Klingon Rokeg blood pie for our space quest expecting it to look cool but taste gross. Surprisingly, it was pretty good.

Ever since our Star Trek Scene It? competition almost a year ago, which I won, my brother-in-law Ryan has been longing to prove that the outcome of that game had more to do with a quantum singularity than his competence. His long-awaited chance for redemption came during the New Year’s Day weekend in the form of another round of the Ryan vs. Rachel Trek challenge. It was a close match but in the end, when I was only one question away from victory, Ryan initiated his transwarp drive and my overworked nacelles couldn’t keep up. I guess, unlike Scotty, I just couldn’t hold her together any longer.

Wesley looked more like Elvis than Spock with Ryan’s wig on but even space needs a king.
It was a perfectly perfect day for a little snowshoeing adventure.
The clumps of snow in the trees made the sky almost as pale as the ground. I felt like I was swimming through a whitewashed world.

The following day the trekking continued. We hiked up American Fork Canyon on the Mud Springs Trail with Jason’s parents using snowshoes. This excursion was Sue and Keith’s idea and an excellent idea it was indeed. While the temperatures up in the mountains weren’t exceptionally warm, our constant exertion kept us plenty toasty. I think those canyon climbs may have been longer and steeper than what my in-laws were envisioning but they still made it through two miles of powdery calm, with minimal whining, before darkness halted our goings.

The winter haze in the valleys didn’t have the power to invade our outing.
We decided to shoe on the wild side by detouring through a dell of water-infested snow.
The fingers of the river broke this portion of our path into lovely flowing pieces.

Our New Year’s Eve, as usual, was all about the parties. We visited the Rowleys first and played some rounds of Killer Oompi, which is Uno plus penalties, with that crew. I lost once and my punishment was proposing marriage to our friend Penny. Asking a girl for her hand turned out to be harder than I thought; I got a little tongue-tied. Why do females have to be so difficult? Next we were off to the Hughes family shindig. After some sundae action we convinced this group of friends to play Killer Oompi as well. We’ve been trying to persuade them that Killer Oompi actually is a fun pursuit for years but the idea of humiliating penalties has always scared them off so Jason was proud and shocked that his manipulation worked this time. The timing of my pleased hubby’s convincing could have been a bit better for me though. I think playing Killer Oompi that much in one night left me more and more unfocused as the evening progressed. I made a number of dumb mistakes I never would have normally and lost three rounds. Consequently, I had to carry Fran around like a pony and act like a worm-ridden dog. My back was not pleased with its pony duties but at least I didn’t lose the snow angel round. Cam, who ironically was the one pushing for this particular penalty, had to make a snow angel in the fresh powder as punishment for his defeat. Angel duties wouldn’t have been too bad if it hadn’t been nearly 2 AM and less than 10 degrees outside…and if Jim hadn’t been there to take advantage of his friend’s defenseless position on the ground with some ill-placed snowballs. What an angel!

I wish I could blame the way I look in this picture on a beverage but I’m pretty sure apple juice isn’t responsible.
Fran didn’t spare my back; she made the most of her hard-earned ride.

It was a fun weekend. Sure I had to suffer the shame of battling with a blunt bat’leth and the indignity of crawling on all fours but at least I find ridiculousness, even when it’s my own, amusing. And who wouldn’t appreciate naked aspens and frosty pines embellished by the shimmering heaps of fluffy powder clinging to their branches? Laughter and beauty are an excellent way to end one year and begin yet another. Hello 2013! May you be ever as much of an adventure as your predecessors.

Rachel January 15, 2013 1 Comment

The Park City Paradox

Every August Jason and I head up to Park City for my chapter of the Society of Cosmetic Chemists’ annual seminar and golf outing. This event takes place at the Hotel Park City and we usually stay in one of their cottage suites while I attend. (We get a great deal so why not.) The cottage suites are definitely snooty with private Jacuzzis, patios, 3 fireplaces, and so forth and so on. Naturally you’d think that my snobbish slumber in their enormous beds, some or the most comfortable beds I’ve ever laid in, would be peaceful and perfect but no, that’s not how my night’s rest at this thing ever goes and therein lies my single grievance about our yearly Park City excursion. This event would almost feel like a retreat if it weren’t for the cruel scheduling. I have a great time but I come home feeling like a zombie in a golf skirt. Allow me to run through the proceedings at this function and explain while I complain.

The view from our cottage was, as always, beautiful.

The first bit of this outing is all about education through presentations. Yippee! Those who know me understand that I am hopelessly curious. I’m happy listening to lectures for hours while furiously scribbling notes so I was predictably engaged by this year’s talks. After a full afternoon of learning about preservatives and how to make nasty sunscreens taste sublime, our entire 50+ group headed downstairs to Ruth’s Chris for an excellent dinner. Jason decided to join us for this meal. He has always been hesitant to come to supper with this crowd even though he’s continually invited and the food at Ruth’s Chris is delicious. I think my particular brand of geek intimidates him a tad because the only circuits we care about are those generated by our evaporimeters but this year either he manned up or the thought of tasty food got the better of him. It turns out he was right to be wary of these chemists though. Our table had a 20 minute discussion about the fragrances used in Fabreze that forced Jason into the realm of cosmetic nerdery at a head-spinning pace. However, a tender fillet and big blob of mashed potatoes seemed to reduce the shock of it all on his system. Our feast wasn’t over until about 8:30 but that still left me and Jason ample time to pull out our books and relax for a few hours, something we are too occupied to do often at home.

Our golfers were numerous. It took nearly 50 carts to seat us all.

This all sounds like a rough experience, right? Lots of excellent food and unwinding with a good read in a fancy hotel room. We scientists have a tough life that is for certain. While this may sound like the lap of luxury, let me assure you that luxury knows no alarm clock. The golfing on the second day of our meeting starts absurdly early and that’s what always gets me. I’m up in Park City. I’m staying in a super nice room with a bed that’s feathery and soft but I never sleep well because I know I have to get up at 5:00 AM or thereabouts. The ease of it all is kind of lost when you wake up in the middle of the night and realize you have to be up for real in an hour.

My golf team was not lucky to have me among them but I did contribute a few good swings to our cause.

Despite my grumblings about its timing, the golfing is surprisingly enjoyable every year. I am a pretty horrendous golfer, make no mistake, but I don’t take myself too seriously so I can still enjoy that which I suck at. The lessons I took last summer and the couple visits Jason and I have made to the driving range this year have definitely helped me play less awfully. I know how to stand correctly now and grip my clubs but I am still a beginner with a capital B. Regardless, I always have fun with whatever team I am placed on and occasionally my shots do end up being useful.

The SCC summer outing in Park City is a strange mix of recreation, learning, leisure, and exhaustion. Instead of being cooped up in the office I get to practice my swing in the sweet sunshine but I don’t get to enjoy my fluffy bed like I would on a real break. It’s being on the brink of a vacation without actually getting all the perks of one that’s the killer. Sometime I’d like to stay at the Hotel Park City when I don’t have to rise before the sun’s even thinking about it. Until then, you can all keep rolling your eyes at my “hard” life.

Rachel August 29, 2012 No Comments

The Return of the Con

Going to Comic-Con changes your perspective on life. You’ll never whine again about brief delays checking out at the grocery store when you’ve waited in line for hours and hours with literally thousands of people. Star sightings will seem mundane after you’ve been surrounded on all sides by celebrities. Sneaking ninjas and throngs of superheroes invading your personal space won’t even make you blink twice. Yes, once you have been to Comic-Con there is no going back to your pre-Con preconceptions.

The members of our large group went their separate ways for the most part during the day but we met up to share our daily tales over dinner.

I'm pretty sure that just being in Tim Burton's presence made my brother nervous. Watching Beetlejuice as a kid scarred him for life. I, however, enjoyed listening to crazy Tim.

Jason definitely belongs with these other scoundrels.

Last year Jason and I had our first stupefying Comic-Con experience. Our recount of its fabulousness must have bedazzled everyone because this year a group of friends joined us. My brother Drew, his wife Simone, Jeremy Rowley, his wife Amber, and Jason’s coworker Dan all decided to come and miraculously everyone managed to acquire those mythical tickets.

The streets outside the convention center were always congested with humanity.

All of the actual Batmobiles were on display at Comic-Con. Batastic! This is the 1966 version from the TV series.

This picture only represents about half of the Firefly panel members. I wouldn't want you to explode into fits of jealousy by showing you everyone that was there.

Comic-Con this time around felt very similar to last year. The eternal lines were everywhere, the elaborate costumes were as prolific as Mario’s mushrooms, and the smelly masses still hadn’t discovered deodorant. Once again we rose before the sun or the sane to claim our spots for the panels from our favorite shows. Yes, Comic-Con was the same mess of marketing and humanity but this time Jason and I had changed. We were no longer Padawans; we were the Comic-Con Masters. We weren’t awed and overwhelmed by the omnipresent famous. We knew better than to take volunteers’ conflicting directions as fact and we anticipated spending most of our time standing in line. With that said, it would be erroneous to assume that our Comic-Con familiarity led to letdowns. Just because we were Con veterans doesn’t mean we didn’t totally nerd-out from predawn to long after dusk. We expected chaotic awesomeness and that’s what we got.

Bumblebee and I were just little guys next to Optimus' massive trunks.

The most awesome of that awesomeness? Meeting Brent Spiner, AKA Mr. Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation. Lifetime dream fulfillment? Check. Brent was not disappointing in person; he was very witty and clever. Jason made me confess my teenage Data crush to him. (Thanks a lot for ratting me out Jason.) He took it quite well. My admission actually didn’t seem to surprise him one bit but he did appear a little stunned that I had followed up my taste for tasty androids with a marriage to a common earthman.

We traveled down 5th Avenue Flash style because we were just too fast to move any other way.

The exhibit floor at Comic-Con is full of surprises like meeting yourself.

The Bunker, South Park's art department, was full of friendly animators.

Our hotel room had a nice view of the bay. Not that we got to enjoy it much since we were never in our room.

Along with encountering celebrities up-close, we saw oodles of them on stage at the multitude of superb panels we attended: Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2, Frankenweenie, Oz, Wreck-it Ralph, Masquerade 101, History of the Modern Zombie, Legend of Korra, Spotlight on Ben Edlund, Designing for the Undead, and Minimates Turn 10. While I enjoyed learning about the psychology of the post-apocalyptic and hearing from Tim Burton, Sam Raimi, Mila Kunis, Sarah Silverman, and John C. Reilly, my favorite panel this time was Firefly: 10 Year Anniversary. Joss Whedon, Nathan Fillion, and a number of the other cast members were present. The audience was so appreciative and supportive of these stars that by the end our standing ovation had most, if not all, of them in tears. I was moved by them being moved so I ended up crying a bit myself. It was moving. What a fantastic panel! By the way, if you haven’t watched Firefly I would highly recommend it; then you will understand why the Fox network is run by morons.

Hasbro is launching a line of Star Trek toys soon. I'll be purchasing buckets of those no doubt.

A league of steam punkers? Now that's might misty.

While the panels were delightful, they didn’t monopolize our attention. We had to leave some time for the enormous and illustrious exhibit hall. The Comic-Con exhibit hall is as full of surprises as a Klingon in a barbershop. No matter how much time you spend wandering around the thousands of booths you’ll always discover more must-have geeky merchandise that you missed last time you wandered by. You’ll also stumble upon famous people left and right. That’s how we came across the members of The Bunker, which do animation work for South Park, and Max Brooks, the author of The Zombie Survival Guide. Needless to say, we purchased a lot of autographed wares on the exhibit floor. I even had an anime version of myself drawn by comic book artist Ashley Riot; I affectionately refer to it as “animeMe.”

Everyone needs a wooden moustache or two and the vendors at Comic-Con were happy to provide.

I never much cared for Sand People and their annoying vocals but I did appreciate this creative costuming.

Yes, our familiarity with Comic-Con led to less “wow” this year but not less enjoyment. We knew we were dumping ourselves into the stinky melting pot of nerd culture and that we might emerge with the white hand of Saruman painted across our chest but we wouldn’t regret it. And what about the noobs? They had a great time and are already plotting how to maximize their Comic-Con experience next year with less funds, less sleep, and less showering. Will Jason and I be there next year? If Picard’s crew can make it so we probably can too but I think we’ll stick with a Con plan that includes bathing.

Rachel July 20, 2012 1 Comment
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