Pre-Christmas Christmas

I know fake trees are more manageable, but nothing beats the real thing. This picture is from Christmas morning. Awww...


Here's a barrage of present and temple square pictures with Michael's family. I learned that if you ever want to please a child, buy them a Leapster (they'll jump for joy).

Christmas Eve with my family looks like this:

Winter wonderland

Sometimes I love Utah.

My surrogate aunts, Deb and Diane, built a yurt in the Uintas this summer. Yurt: almost a cabin, much better than a tent. Michael and I wanted to test out our snowshoes so we drove up to the Ashley forest. I've used my snowshoes before, but mostly on packed snow where they weren't really necessary (just to look hardcore). We thought we would be hiking in about one mile, three at the longest. The Uinta's got 22 inches of snow the day before we arrived. So we hiked five miles. It was beautiful and put me in the Christmas mood since it felt like walking through a snowglobe, but I'm a little sore...still. Our favorite thing to do was stop in a random snow field and say, "This would have been a GREAT spot for the yurt!" Michael chose to sing most of the way...but it was still fun.

Diane ended up with the wrong skis and had to turn back,

but this picture is rather poster-esque I think.

Michael (as the strapping, young buck) got to pull the sled with supplies. This inspired the Christmas jingle "I am pulling a sled. I'm pulling a sled..." to the tune of sleigh ride. 

Tres hard core.

Outside the yurt.

Inside the yurt.

 Chilly birds.

 Sunrise.

 Wading through the snow. Just huntin'.

Festivus

Michael's birthday is the 14th of December. The poor kid has to wait all year for gifts (poor girlfriend has to come up with two presents within two weeks). It was really fun to be home with Michael for his birthday. He got super duper slippers and a coffee maker from his parents--he must be a writer. 

I got him this super cool tee shirt from cafepress.com. It's true; he is an unreliable narrator.

On his actual birthday we watched Lord of the Rings extras...so it was pretty much my birthday too. Also, if anyone thought Michael and I were cool, this proves them wrong.

Our Christmas tree hunting was a little late this year because Laura just got home from finals. Today we went to Cactus and Tropicals, where Laura's "working." I say that sarcastically because the place is so pretty that it's more of a relaxation exercise than a job. I gotta get on that...

I love having a real tree in the house. I also think the Christmas tree fields in Oregon are beautiful and I imagine that I can see the oxygen oozing out of them. Support growing trees! even if it's to cut them down, put them in the livingroom and bedeck them with popcorn. Anyway... \

Awwww, Laura and her moss unicorn--a Christmas classic.

 Told you: relaxation exercise.

We stood next to every tree, and finally decided that we looked best next to this one. Just kidding. It is really pretty though. I'll let you see the finished, decorated product. 

My dad told Francisco, the tree helper, that he could do it himself. Take that Francisco.

So far, I'm really enjoying being home and can't wait for the extended family to come home. I do keep having vaguely guilty feelings since I'm not doing anything art historical. That's what the rest of the year is for, right?

Home again, home again jiggity jig.

Back to SL tomorrow! I'm actually going to travel by plane, train and automobile in one day. I will not eat green eggs and ham in any of them. I am not going to miss this, large hole in my kitchen post plumbing repair. I swear that I hear growling coming from it.

But I will miss my Oregon hair.

It just does this when I get out of the shower (thus the serene expression). Seriously. My Utah hair is considerably less Pre-Raphealite. I think I understand now why Utahans go for one of three hairstyles: 

1. The Polygamist Plait

I like braids, it's the Anne of Green Gables bouffant in the front that kills it.

2. The "Mom Blob" 

Note blob, not bob. Here articulated by Dorthy Hamil, 

it says "I have 8 kids, 45 scrapbooks, and 3 SUVs. Oh fer Heck!"

3. The Classic Utah Poof

Hair, ratted high (and mighty), this was taken at a choir concert in Highland, Utah. 

I stole it from the Facebook Coalition to Banish the Utah Poof--a worthy organization.

PS-- I'm coming home!

The saddest story ever told.

My name is Sarah and I once had a blockbuster problem. I spent way to much money there one summer--it's bad news when the employees know your account number. Anyway, I didn't want to fall into that trap again so I'm renting exclusively from the library. It's free, close to my house and checking my hold items gives me something to do on the internet. I may break down and netflix next term, because getting mail is like Christmas morning (and I'll still have something to do on the internet).

Anyway, I've developed a fondness for the Eugene library. I read the New York Times, I listen to NPR and I frequent the public library; I am an old person.

Yesterday I was enjoying the wifi and browsing movies when alarms went off. The sirens seemed crazily loud since libraries are supposed to be quiet. Everyone trucked outside while librarians ran around, looking for fire. Turns out a kid (who was caught about two minutes later) had lit a match under the smoke detector. I walked back in the building and saw a dripping librarian tearfully explaining that the sprinklers had come on in the Children's Books section before they could shut the alarm off.

What a punk. That's like stealing walkers from the elderly, or going to the humane society to remind the animals that no one wants them. Man alive...

Make way for the S.L.C

Thanksgiving was pretty sweet. I did have an airport fiasco on my way back to Eugene which involved me running through SL international, carrying my boots--but that's a story for another day.

The snow in Salt Lake made me feel quite festive. It doesn't snow in Eugene very often. On the Friday before Thanksgiving they actually closed the public schools and and the community college due to "extreme weather conditions." 1 inch is not extreme, Eugene.

My dad and I put up Christmas lights as usual, but since the roof was covered in snow and icy we used climbing equipment. I wonder what the neighbors thought when they heard us yelling "climb on" and "up rope."

I've never worn this many clothes while belaying.

Here's my Dad on the other side of the roof. Sooo hard core, right?

We have new LED lights this year. They aren't quite as "homey" as the old ones, but you know the Taylor family--we're cutting edge, hipsters.

I'm so happy that I get to go back home soon. Only a week of final papers and I'll be back on a plane and done with 1/6 of grad school. Wha? Thanksgiving highlights included HP #7, that Pictionary game that Lindsay Loo taught me after dinner and playing Book of Mormon Guess Who with Michael's niece and nephew. It went something like this:

Morgan (five years old): Are you a Nephite?

Sarah: Um, I have no idea. Michael, am I a Nephite?

Michael: Are you brown?

Sarah: No, I'm white.

Michael: Then you probably are.

It was lovely, although I did have chapped lips, "angry" hair and complaining about the "dry air" in Utah. What have I become?

It snowed. In Eugene. Wha?

On the first day of grad school the department held an opening hurrah and, as it usually goes with awkward social gatherings, everyone bragged about how amazing their thesis was and discussed the weather. I asked about fifteen different people about the snow (it was my fallback ok? layoff) and they asked me about Zion national park. "Snow? It never snows in Eugene. It will maybe snow once, but it won't stick."

Liars! I'm looking at two inches of powder.


I hope my little plane will survive as it travels from one little snowstorm into a Utah blizzard. I'll just skip breakfast so I don't weigh the plane down. Or maybe I'll lead the passengers in Christmas carols so the holiday spirit buoys the plane, the Santa Clause style. I'm sure everyone on my 6:00 am flight will love that. At least I have a plan.


On another note, I'm going home in the morning!!

Tofurky? No thanks.

Thanksgiving is becoming my favorite holiday.

Turkey is a no go and Tofurky is just icky. But! I'm more than happy with the side dishes. My favorite food (besides chocolate) is mashed potatoes. They're delicious. Especially with garlic salt. My mom also makes cheesy onions. They're delicious. Especially with garlic salt. I also worked at Marie Calenders for a few years which left me with a special fondness for pie.

And now for some thoughts on pie:
Rhubarb tastes like medicine, but strawberry rhubarb is delicious.
French apple, a la mode? Mmmm hmmm.
Chocolate Satin is a touch over-rated, but it's much better than chocolate cream.
Finally, Custard looks like thick, yellow mayonaise and tastes like bogeys. Maybe it would be better with garlic salt...
Pumpkin pie is wonderful all year long.

**Let me just say, I'm pleased as punch that I no longer have to wake up at 4:00 am on Thanksgiving morning to sort pies and talk to crazed grandmothers who are missing their banana creams. I'm also glad that I don't have to wear that uniform anymore. Yep, yep.

Anyway, it looks like I'm going to have a really quiet Thanksgiving with my family. A lot of my extended family is coming to Salt Lake for Christmas this year, so it will probably be just my family for Thanksgiving (and various 22-year-old orphans). I also get to go to Michael's Thanksgiving. This will by third one so I'm a pro--the perpetual girlfriend. EVERYONE in Michael's family gathers at his grandparents. So I'll have a noisy one and a quiet one. Sounds wonderful right?

My other favorite thing about this November? I've been a vegetarian for 10 years. Holla! So, no turkey for me.

Drumroll please

Today I officially signed paperwork making me the GRF for one of my professors next term! I'm going to be helping her research for her book about French avant-garde artists in the early 20th century and scan files for her Spring classes. I've been holding this info back 1) because she's a tough teacher and I'm a little intimidated to work for her and 2) I'm completely honored that she picked me and didn't want to seem too pompous.

Well, I am pompous. So there!

Anyway, I get some staff perks like health insurance (I don't really need that since my parent's plan just extended to include me, thanks Mr.  President), the option to buy a cheaper parking pass (I'll hoof it though, $200 doesn't seem cheap), the ability to check books out from the library indefinitely (Why would I want to do that?) and most importantly free tuition (no snippy comment here). This means I might actually graduate from grad school without debt. Wha? That only happens to people who major in business or something more Sciencey--you know, something with job security.

Anyway, I decided to unleash my big head on my blog and give myself a pat on the back. It is my blog, after all. Please refer to the picture at the top of the page for a representation of my general mood today. I am a lucky duck.

I better go write my research paper for that class, just in case she can still change her mind.

10 days to Rusty...

 ...and everyone else I love. I think Rusty will be the happiest to see me over Thanksgiving break, since we never talk on the phone (and I take him rollerblading).

Rusty has been my happy thing since seventh grade. Seventh grade is a dark and terrible time when mean girls tell you that you're a "tag-along" or make fun of your overalls. In my defense, overalls were in. Playing the french horn and Roller Coaster Tycoon probably wasn't... 

Anyway, I convinced my parents that we needed a dog by being incredibly annoying for about a month. That's what thirteen-year-olds are best at, after all. So, we took a trip to the humane society. All the puppies and dogs were barking their little, forgotten, heads off, but Rustle just looked up at me and smiled. I said, "Hello Bubba" and we fell in love.

I changed his name from "Scraps" as quickly as possible. Scraps? That name is just tragic. 

Rusty still goes up to my room when he's afraid of thunder or fireworks. Rusty used to sleep on my feet all the time. I have to put a blanket there now, because I can't sleep without the weight. Whenever I pack up my car to move to far away places, he circles around sniffing and looking for a spot to sit. He looks up and says, "I'm coming right?" 

He's home with my parents now--they're taking care of each other. Rusty is busy tracking the progress of the squirrels in the backyard and taking trips to the Uintas. 

Rusty is going to run out in the front yard, when I come home next week and say "Hello Bubba." 

Lame.

I was quite chipper on my walk home from school today since, for the first time this week, it wasn't raining. I just had to pick up a book from the library across campus. Then! karma, or irony or something struck my down. I slid down the handicap ramp on wet leaves, arms and book in the air, and now have a sprained ankle.

Hmmm, perhaps it's unethical to use a handicap ramp when you aren't handicap? Maybe the ramp has a mind of itself and becomes extra slippery when an impertinent girl with two functional ankles walks upon it.

Aw well, it's really just a good excuse to take the bus (and a few extra baths).

Portage to Portland

My Symbolism and Decadence class took a little field trip to the Portland Art Museum (no, we didn't wear matching shirts). My professor is sort of amazing--she answered all the questions that docents never can touched sculptures and got alarmingly close to canvases. We talked about frames and whether we should look at them or ignore them, she pointed out how bad some of the paintings were (that's usually a secret thought...) and spent a solid half hour discussing a painting called The Circumcision of Christ. I loved it.

The museum didn't allow cameras, but I took this picture in the sculpture garden of a piece by Deborah Butterfield. I'm a sucker for sculpture. It looks like driftwood, but it's actually painted bronze.

Our little troupe of grad students went to the Chinese Gardens next. I was so excited to see some of the things I've been studying in my Asian art class that I think I got a wee bit camera happy. Everything in Chinese garden's is framed and structured (not exactly "wild"). This garden imported limestone shaped rocks from Tai Lake in Southern China that serve as sculptures. As usual, there's text everywhere. 

Oh look, Portland.

 Framing.

 Venomous Tentacula!!!