Sunday, July 29, 2007

Chopstick Disaster

It has recently come to my attention that chopsticks are of the devil! Okay, using the devil as a reference to chopsticks may be a bit exaggerated, but there is an important point here. Chopsticks are contributing to the demise of our environment. Don’t get me wrong; I am a fan of Chinese food and Japanese food. I will even go as far as to declare Sushi as my favorite cuisine. I never pass up an opportunity to get Sushi. There is something special about the ambiance that a Sushi restaurant provides, aside from the delicious food; something of a hip, healthy, and smooth vibe. I am guilty of partaking of using chopsticks as much as anyone, if not more. In all my years of partaking of the slice of heaven referred to as Sushi, not once did I stop to think about how many chopsticks are used on a daily basis in one restaurant, let alone the world!

Take a moment to ponder the amount of chopsticks being thrown away on a daily basis in one city alone. Once you are able to wrap your mind around that, think about the amount used in one state, in one country, and then worldwide! It is not Sushi restaurants alone however; it is Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, and so on. These wooden utensils are made from trees, a resource that is being rapidly depleted. Rain forests are disappearing at an alarming rate, yet billions of chopsticks are being manufactured every day and wrapped in once again paper; another product created from trees! Although it seems like a minor offense due to the small size of chopsticks, it is a problem spanning across the world only contributing to the depletion of trees. What do we do to stop the amount of waste that wooden chopsticks create? Should we boycott going to restaurants that provide chopsticks or only use forks? Neither of those seem very fair. There is a solution however, reusable chopsticks!

Reusable chopsticks are not a difficult concept. In reality it is an environmentally friendly, financially sound, and socially acceptable solution. The sheer amounts of waste that would be saved from restaurants and individuals investing in a pair of reusable chopsticks seem logical. Restaurants would have to pay more up front to purchase reusable chopsticks, but would save money in the end. Most nice restaurants use washable napkins anyway. Why not provide reusable chopsticks wrapped in washable napkins and do our parts for the environment and save some money? We don’t have to give up our love of different cuisine, we can purchase our own chopsticks and take them with us to use if the restaurant does not provide reusable chopsticks.

Now that I have spent some time ranting and attempting to persuade people to stop using wooden chopsticks, everyone go buy a pair of reusable chopsticks, and enjoy a nice sushi roll filled with orgasmic pleasures!

Friday, July 13, 2007

Seven ways at looking at the man and woman in the Red Door

1.) Amongst a room of about 20 unsuspecting individuals the man sits with his stomach turning, while covering it up with constant chatter. His stomach turns with the unknown thought of the woman sitting across from him.

2.) A woman scans the room nervously afraid to glance at the individual sitting across from her for reasons unsuspecting to the naked eye.

3.) The candles and lamps burn dimly as the room of 20 talks amongst themselves. Some notice a couple in the corner that appear to be on a date while others search the room for a possible new person to meet. Others drink their dirty martinis, paying no attention to anyone other than those familiar faces in which are near.

4.) A bar tender scurries across the bar serving numerous martinis to individuals scattered every which way. He puts on a smile while unsuspectingly running around frantically in hopes of making some much needed money on tips and praying silently not to make a mistake as too possibly get behind. He brings a third glass of red wine to the man sitting across from the woman; she is still on her first. What will he tip at the end of the evening?

5.)A woman glances through a crowd in the dim room over and over while searching through her thoughts. She is bored, it is not working out, and she needs a scapegoat. There is a door leading outside, a bathroom trapping her for a while, and a bunch of unfamiliar faces in which cannot help her in her awkward state. Which if any does she choose?

6.) A man sits in the cold outside the Red Door near a curb on 2nd and Main. His eyes wonder into the seemingly cozy room in which people are throwing their money away as if it is nothing. His eyes slowly move from individual to individual watching every move with thoughts of selfishness running through his mind. One individual is on his third glass of wine. He could use that money to buy food.

7.) A doorman sits on a stool checking ID’s as people walk in. He glances over at the two girls on the couch that seem very young. Did he check their ID’s? They came in around the time that the man and the woman on the other side of the room did. It’s to late now, he doesn’t want to bother with the possible hassle they may give him. They aren’t causing any harm. They are simply sipping a couple of martinis and giving the bar tender some much needed money. He will ignore them because no one else has said anything.

Tales of muppets, rock stars, and paleontologists

Bri and I decide to take a stroll down to Wild Oats Market to participate in a well known little sport called people watching. We purchase some salad and soup and then go to the top floor in which a view of the entire store and everyone in it is accessible

First comes Beaker. You know…beaker the Muppet? Yes… there is an employee of Wild Oats Market that looks remarkably like beaker. Next is bread boy. He analyzes and investigates every loaf of bread as if it is a choice that will lead him to his death if not cautious. He picks one loaf of bread continues to walk away and abruptly stops turns and chooses a different loaf of bread on several different occasions. Finally after repeating the analyzing, investigating, choosing, and returning he decides on the very first one he chose.

Next is all the intriguing little kids running around. We have a family that consists of Rocks Star and Paleontologist. The little girl of about age 3 has tight spandex pants that have designs of stars all over, a cool shirt, long blonde hair, and sunglasses. She pushes a little cart around following her mother and brother paleontologist. Paleontologist carries with him a fanny pack, tight beige pants that go to his belly button and glasses. An interesting duo indeed!

Then comes along Beanie Girl, she has the coolest little outfit ever, talks like a Muppet, and pushes a mini cart around that reads, “customer in training.” She stands next to the boy who looks like the kid off Jerry Maguire. Yes…it’s all true. Beanie Girl then proceeds to pick up off the floor what looks like a dried apricot, she tugs on her mother’s shirt to show her. I proceed to tell Bri that I hope Beanie Girl doesn’t eat the strange item on the floor, the next thing I know the mother of Beanie Girl grabs the item and eats it herself!

Needless to say it was a wonderful day of people watching in which I hope to do again soon!

The Illusionist

Have you ever sat in a movie theater with a bunch of friends watching one of those so called "scary movies?" The one that is so ridiculous that it can't be taken seriously. Rather than be categorized as a horror film it should really be in the comedy section. Dawn of the Dead is one of those films. It became a "cult classic" due to its attempt at being scary but only accomplishing laughter. Of course when you are sitting in a big theater surrounded by people laughing with you it is truly funny.

Everything changes when you are in your downstairs basement all alone at midnight watching the same movie that months earlier made you cry from so much laughing. This time it is different. The possibilities of the ridiculous things being portrayed in the movie seem logical when you are alone. Mutated mountain men in the West Virginia hills are actually on their way to your basement to slay you with an axe. Even worse, the boogie man really does exist and he is waiting for the opportune time to attack. Butterflies begin to swarm around in your stomach, multiplying with every second that passes. You start looking around to see if something is going to jump out at you. Wait a minute; was that a shadow on the wall? Holy mother of God, there is a strange sound coming from behind you. Finally it is too much! You jump up, turn the lights on, shut the TV off, run to your room, and jump under your covers. The same mind frame of when you were five comes rushing back. Of course if you get under your covers that demon that lives under your bed can't possibly retrieve you.

The mind is an amazing thing. Its capabilities are far reaching, delving into realms that have yet to be discovered. The roles it takes on vary in shape and size. It can be a best friend creating logical justification helping you sleep better at night, a teacher that is constantly helping to process information in a relative format to your frame of thoughts, an enemy that betrays everything you once knew; you mean Pluto isn't a planet, and an illusionist that bring to life the phrase "the mind plays tricks on the eyes."

There we were the dynamic duo Bri and Jessica crossing the bridge for our routine game of tennis. We were determined to one day become professional tennis players. It seemed to be a likely scenario being that we played every day. It didn't matter that we had only begun playing several weeks prior to this night. We were destined to go down in history as undefeated Wimbledon champions. The Williams sisters were no skin off our backs. They would never encounter as fierce competitors as Bri and I. We were beginning our practice this particular evening a little later than usual. As we walked by the abandoned dorms near the highly anticipated tennis courts, Bri noticed a light on in one of the third floor dorms. It was a curious situation being that the dorms were scheduled to be torn down.

It was also an ironic situation being that earlier that day the tales of Ted Bundy having been a RA in these dorms years earlier had been swarming around. Bri and I glanced at each other with a bit of nervousness residing in our eyes, but quickly began to laugh as our minds logical side took a grip. We continued walking past the dorms, checking the doors to see if maybe a homeless man had invaded the abandoned building. None of the doors were open; the situation quickly became more intriguing. We had a tennis game to catch however, so our investigation had to come to an end. We quickly changed the subject of conversation and continued along toward our destination residing only moments away. After all, the lights only stayed lit for another three hours; it was imperative that we rush to be able to fit in a grueling tennis practice. Being number one at Wimbledon would be no easy task and take a lot of dedication. We were not so naive that we didn't realize this.

After an exhilarating game of tennis, Bri and I began our journey home. It was only about a 15 minute walk, one in which we had done frequently. This time however, it was dark and a bit intimidating. As we walked past the abandoned dorms both Bri and I were a bit nervous noticing that another light was on. How could this be? We had checked all the doors previously and none of them were open. We both were thinking the same thing, but didn't want to say it due to the reaction it would likely bring. We strolled past the dorms as if neither of us were secretly glancing over our shoulders to find the perpetrator that was likely hiding in the bushes waiting for Bri and me to walk past again. We continued our conversation about the song "complicated" by Avril Lavine when suddenly I felt someone grab my hand urging me to follow.

Bri had grabbed my hand in an effort to pull me along as she began to run. My heart stopped! I had never heard a more shrilling scream come from anyone, let alone Bri. This was a serious situation. I had heard of the rush of adrenaline that comes over a person in an emergency situation before, but had never experienced it until this moment. I ran as if I was an Olympic athlete. I had never been so motivated in my life. I was sure this was the end of my life. Thoughts of Ted Bundy mutilating my body and burying it in a discrete location in the hills filled my head. Would anyone notice that Bri and I had gone missing? Would I get caught and Bri get away? All of this occurred in a mere two seconds, but it seemed like it had easily been much longer when Bri dropped to the ground in laughter.

I was so confused. As I turned to look over my shoulder there was no one there, except a parking meter! I instantly knew that Bri and I had been the victims of a parking meter, not the contrived man hiding in the bushes. I also dropped to the ground in laughter. After the mirth had subsided Bri and I lied on the hard pavement catching our breaths from what we had full heartedly believed to be the end of our Wimbledon dreams and even worse our lives! Just imagining the horrible things that a Ted Bundy copycat would likely do to Bri and I was enough to offer someone a heart attack. A sense of relief permeated me until Pumpkin (a well known dorm mate of ours) walked past and waved. Had he seen everything that went on? Had he heard our shrilling screams of fear and death?

After lying on the pavement under the street lamp composing ourselves, we decided to venture the remainder of the route home never to mention our experience to anyone. Pumpkin also known as Justin, never said anything to us about that night. We will never know if he witnessed the trick of the illusionist. To this day, when I see a parking meter, which happens frequently, I grin at our painstakingly comical event.

Peruvian Delight Day 1

Adventures of this caliber are difficult to describe with the vigor that it deserves. Having extended this disclaimer before hand, I will attempt to put into words my AMAZING trip I recently took. Peru is a small country located in Western South America. It is bordered by Ecuador, Columbia, Brazil, Bolivia, Chili, and the Pacific Ocean. Don’t be fooled however, although small, it is a country filled with astonishing sites and geography surpassed by few. Peru is a country abundant with rich unique culture and heritage woven by many denominations of ethnicities including Amerindians, Africans, and Spanish. The primary language spoken is Spanish, although there are a myriad of native languages such as Quechua spoken throughout the country. Knowing very little about Peru other then having heard of Machu Picchu and my brother having recently moved there, I was in for nothing less then a spectacular journey starting at sea level and ending at a sheer 12,507 feet (figuratively and literally).

My journey began with a long arduous day of airport adventure (as I am sure many of you can relate). My flight left the Salt Lake City airport around 6:30 a.m., placing me in the Atlantic Georgia airport at noon. I had a five hour layover in which I spent most of the time curled up in a ball sleeping. I then boarded my plane for a grueling seven hour flight to Lima Peru. Getting off of the flight and going though customs and immigrations was quite possibly the most taxing part of my day. Customs itself took over an hour to get through, teaching me my first lesson of Peru. Peruvians take their time! I had received a message from my brother prior to boarding my flight indicating that he would be sending an Embassy car to pick me up. I would be able to recognize the driver because he should be holding a sign holding my name. I naively expected to walk out of the airport and see my driver immediately. After all, how many signs could there be? Hundreds is the answer! I walked out to a frenzy of sign holders, people asking me if I needed a taxi, others seemingly beckoning me in Spanish (that of which I don’t speak or understand). Luckily, after standing there confused and dazed for a moment, my brother popped up. He was a welcoming sight for the weary.

My initial impression of Lima was not what I had expected. I had been preparing myself for a very poor country with dirt roads and kids on the street corner begging. I later learned that I was not entirely wrong, in fact mostly correct according to the majority of Peru. The area in which we drove and my brother lives however was very modern. There were clubs, casinos, restaurants (Chili’s), and modern cars. The driving was something to be hold however. Driving in Peru is not unlike most underdeveloped countries I suppose; unsafe and crazy! Driving in Peru demands that you be on your toes at all times and you must be both an offensive and defensive driver. Another striking observation was that Peruvians will not stop for pedestrians. They will run you over, this is no exaggeration. After what I deemed a miracle, we arrived at my brother’s home safe and sound.

I woke to a beautiful sun filled day and my nephew staring at me. Being the responsible one that my brother is, he was at work. My sister in-law had a meeting that she was at. Thus, it was Caleb, Aurora (the maid), and I. My brother’s house is located only a few moments walk from a spectacular view of the ocean. Not being able to contain my excitement of being in a new place and only moments away from the Ocean I told Aurora (in as many words as I could because she only speaks Spanish) that I was going to take a walk and find the Ocean. I asked her how to say Coffee in Spanish and I was on my way. I was greeted along the way by random pedestrians with “Hola, Buenos Dias,” hello, and good morning. After a few moments I had my first phrase in Spanish down. Next was the obstacle of ordering Coffee. I never imagined doing something as simple as ordering coffee could be so nerve racking. I understood for the first time what it must be like for people living in the US without knowing English. I went to a corner café and listened politely to the cashier greet me and then politely replied with the only phrase I knew, “Hola, Buenos dias. Café con leche?” She quickly understood that I was a dumb American that could barely spit out the phrase, “hello, and good morning. Coffee with milk? She politely smiled and gave me some coffee. First goal accomplished!

I continued my stroll toward the ocean with my “café con leche” in hand. Along the way I was sure to be careful while crossing the street. As aforementioned; Peruvian driving is chaotic at minimum. Aside from the virtual game of hopscotch that I skillfully participated in with the thousands of cars while crossing an intersection; I was solicited a myriad of times by buses appearing shanty at best resembling somewhat of a clown car by way of dangerously overcrowding itself with people. Having declined risking my life in any of the shanty clown buses, I finally arrived at my destination. The view itself was somewhat of a distance from the ocean. There was a boardwalk streaming across the city of Lima, I don’t know how far it reached. Along the board walk were beautiful purple flowers and trees. I sat on a brick fence for a moment pondering the surreal reality that I was in a different country and at the moment alone in a city of people that I could not communicate with. The feeling was one of enthusiasm, excitement, and curiosity.



As I gazed at the ocean and the city below me, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A man of short stature and an aged face murmured something directed at me. I politely informed him that I did not speak Spanish. He smiled in a welcoming manner and pointed to the brick wall. I replied with a smile and hand gesture indicating that he was welcome to sit next to me. He began talking to me as if we had long been friends. I did not understand what he was saying apart from a few muddled words I was able to distinguish from my Spanish I class in high school. Although little was understood language wise, we had a marvelous conversation using facial expressions, body language, and hand gestures. I understood that he was a student with hopes to move to the United States sometime in the future. I explained to him that I had a brother living here and I was on vacation. As he continued to speak I glanced at my watch and realized that my sister in-law would be home shortly. Being that it was my first day in Peru I thought she would probably be worried about me if I was not home when she returned. I thanked the man for a delightful time and expressed that I had to leave. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and we parted.

I arrived at my brother’s home to be greeted by Aurora. She informed me that Seniora Linsey had called and was on her way home. When Linsey arrived Caleb and I were in the living room reading Cat in the Hat or some sort of like book. She asked if I would be interested in going to lunch with her and an American friend. I excitedly agreed. We walked to the street corner and hailed a cab. I was taught another important lesson at this moment. When getting a taxi, always negotiate. She gave me the run down of average prices. The first taxi we hailed attempted to give us an above average price because we were two white girls. He assumed we were tourists and didn’t know better. He was half correct; I was a tourist and would not have known any better had I not been informed moments earlier. Linsey on the other hand had been in Lima for close to 9 months and was very well aware of how things are run in Peru.

We met her friend outside of her apartment complex. We decided being that it was my first day in Peru that we would walk. The area we walked in was also a very nice part of Peru. There were Peruvians dressed in business attire walking around in the bustling city. We stopped at a small sandwich shop not far from where we began. Although Lima itself is not known for its sight seeing, the food is something to be admired. Generally speaking the food I encountered in Lima exploded with orgasmic flavors, not excluding this meal! Linsey ordered a traditional drink for me. She explained that Peruvians love this drink called “Chicha.” It looked like grape juice, but tasted nothing of the like. It is made of corn. Although my sister in-law adamantly discarded it as gross, I remained neutral. I wouldn’t order it again, but I did not dislike it. Peruvians however LOVE it; along with Inca Cola (to be discussed later). After lunch we took a taxi back to the house in which we arrived home shortly before my brother. We spent the remainder of the evening catching up and just hanging out. I took a small stroll with my brother to the corner café in which I had visited earlier that day for dinner. We ordered some empanada’s that of which were delightfully delicious and chatted about nonchalant items. I retired to bed that evening having been pleased with my relaxed yet exciting day in Peru.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

I'm not interesting enough to be a television character

As most of you have probably noticed being that you are currently reading this, the title of this blog is, "I'm not interesting enough to be a television character." This notion dawned on me in an evening of cocktails and deep contemplation about the philosophies of life according to Jessica and Casandra. As one can imagine, not many of the philosophies made much sense. Among those philosophies involved one important conversation however, about the characters in the television series Sex and the City.

Casandra began by making the very important point that when most people compare themselves to any character in Sex and the City they usually say they are a combination of Carrie and someone else. Although Casandra was not comparable to a character in Sex in the City, she definitely fit the profile of a myriad of other television characters as do many of my friends. It then dawned on me that this was not the scenario for me. Both Casandra and I contemplated for a long while about any character I would fit. In the end we still came up with nothing. Thus, I have been in search of a title character that I can relate to. I have yet to discover it. Our evening ended on the premise that I am indeed not interesting enough to be a television character!