The Luck of the Utahn

Not all of my unemployed weeks are boring, and this one actually had a lot of unusual things going on.

On Tuesday, I went to see Phillip Phillips at the Depot in Salt Lake. Phillip Phillips, you might remember, was one of the winners of American Idol--nowhere near as good as Kelly or Carrie, but at least he hasn't faded into absolute obscurity: you have undoubtedly heard his early songs "Home" and "Gone Gone Gone." I actually have all three of his albums, but that doesn't mean I'm a superfan. See, I got his first album because I liked his radio singles, and I have this thing where if I get an artist's first album when they only have one album, then I will get all their subsequent albums. Mostly I find his music a bit boring, but it's OK. I had never been to the Depot before, and I thought it was a perfect venue for him. He's too mediocre for Vivint Arena, but his live singing and band were perfect for this smaller venue. He's just as good live as he is on his recordings. I liked the Depot because it wasn't too loud or cramped. I will definitely keep it on my radar to visit again if they have a band I like.

This was from the balcony, where the bar is. It was the first time I have ever had to use my ID to get in someplace.

On Thursday, I drove through the slushy weather to Manti, where I had an interview. (Don't worry, I have no intention of moving to Manti. Or maybe you want me gone--in that case, sorry, but I still have no intention of moving to Manti.) While I was there, I thought I would have fun in the quaint little town. I love that you can see its temple from anywhere in the town. I stopped in a fun little candy store on the town's Mayberry-like Main Street.

I also stopped in a little LDS bookstore. They had a surprisingly decent selection for such a little town, and I was surprised they even had the book with my name on it, which I doubt anyone will ever read. (I took pictures, but then I remembered there was a sign saying no photography, so I won't put them here.) They also had many used books for sale. I bought a copy of History of the Young Ladies' Mutual Improvement Association by Susa Young Gates, a source I checked for At the Pulpit. This copy was used in the Manti library. It still had the card in the back that they stamp. As I looked at the dates, I thought, "Oh, this hasn't been out of circulation for that long, since 2013 is pretty recent." But then I realized that the '13 was 1913, not 2013! I think it's cool I got this old book that people were getting from the library in Manti more than a hundred years ago. It was a decent way to spend eleven dollars. (It was one of those stores where you walk in and feel bad not buying anything.)

 Since I've already been in Sanpete County in the last six months, I wanted to go through Emery and Carbon Counties, but I didn't want to with the snow and rain. (My car's lane-departure and forward-collision sensors quit working because they were coated in slush.) But a lower priority bucket list item for me is to go to every county seat, so I decided to eat lunch in Nephi. Every little town has a burger joint, and at this time of year I like to see if they have mint shakes. I stopped in a place called Nebo Queen, and mint was not on the menu. But then I happened to notice a sign for shakes of the month, including the "Leprechaun"--a mint chocolate chip shake with Lucky Charms! It's the most creative March shake I have seen, and it was in the most random place.

I have a group of friends who have season tickets to the Utah Opera, and one of them couldn't go on Friday, so she offered her ticket to me. I figured I might as well take it and see if my opinion of opera is justified. I have always felt that nobody actually likes opera--they just say they do because it makes them sound sophisticated. It's like the Emperor's New Clothes--everyone is too embarrassed to say it's bad because they will sound stupid.

We saw two operas by Puccini, Pagliacci and Gianni Schicchi. My opinion has softened. I hate to admit it, but I did enjoy it. Not enough to consider myself a fan, but it was enjoyable while I was there. Here's my opinion now: operatic singing belongs in opera and nowhere else. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir has a lot of operatic guest stars, and they are terrible. BYU devotionals always began with soloists who sang somewhat operatically, and they were terrible. But opera is fine in opera.

I can remember every St. Patrick's Day going back to 1994, and Saturday was the only one I can remember where it snowed (in Utah, that is). Luckily, my coat and my umbrella just happen to be green. I like St. Patrick's Day because it's one of the first warm, sunny days of spring, but not this year. There's no reason I should like St. Patrick's Day: I'm not Catholic or Irish, and I detest drunkenness. But I do like it. I like wearing green from head to toe (I wore green shoes, socks, pants, belt, shirt, and glasses). I like eating corned beef, even though I don't usually like beef. I like seeing food colored green. I like imagining leprechauns and pots of gold. It's a strangely fun day.

Six years ago, I went to Salt Lake's St. Patrick's Day parade (that post was one of my more popular ones). I wanted to go last year as part of my holiday bucket lists, but it was on March 18, the day I move on to Easter. (I don't like the holiday enough to celebrate it when it's over, and I'm especially cynical about parades.) Since I missed out last year, I decided to go this year. I invited others, but nobody likes me and I went alone. It was OK. It was less interesting than I remember from the parades of 2012 and 1996. There were no green horses or dogs. No shamrocks painted on the road (just a green line). Most of the entries were politicians, Irish dance schools, churches, and Catholic schools. I had no idea there were so many Catholic schools in Utah. There were a few local celebrities: the morning show of Mix 105.1, and Mayor Jackie Biskupski. Wasatch Brewery had an entry, and I could hear some of the people on their truck commenting about my greenness, but I avoided eye contact because I don't condone them at all. They had some events afterwards at the Gallivan Center; I wanted to get some Irish stew, but it was cash only and the ATM was broken. (It's just as well--ten dollars was very steep for a plate of stew.)

According to Wikipedia, Lenten fasting gets a hiatus on St. Patrick's Day, so I didn't have to count calories. Two years ago, I first had an Asian avocado milkshake, and it's a new favorite tradition. It's a nice break from minty everything, and it doesn't even need food coloring to be green. (You might object to Asian drinks on an Irish holiday, but I don't think minty shakes are any more Irish.)

After attending an awkward performance by the LDS Air Force Cadet Choir from Colorado, I came home and watched the Disney Channel movie The Luck of the Irish, which came out in 2001 but I had never seen. I used to have a list of movies and TV episodes I would watch for every holiday, but I have mostly stopped that. But I found it interesting that the grandpa leprechaun was played by the same actor who played the leprechaun in a March episode of Bewitched thirty years earlier. Not that you care.

Marchy March

Sometimes I don't know why people keep coming to this blog, because it's always the same. Running, cats, holiday food. This week is no exception.

I'm trying to diversify my activities, so I bought a pool pass. I was able to use what I learned in my Swimming for Non-Swimmers class in 2013. But I only went swimming once this week. I have had a sniffy nose, so I haven't wanted to spread it around in case it's contagious; and the lap pool was closed for competitions half of the week; and I still have a little bit of fungus on my arms. (That sounds grosser than it is.)

After my swimming, I had to go to Dunkin' Donuts for a review. That location was very dirty, just as it was when I went in October. And since there are a lot of homeless people around, there are a lot of impatient signs posted. I also had to stop at Trader Joe's, since that's the closest location. It was surprisingly busy for the middle of a weekday. I have my fingers crossed that one comes closer. I've heard Trader Joe's described as a glorified junk food store, and it's true; they have all sorts of outlandish holiday treats. At the same time, though, whenever I go there, I feel like buying lots of healthy food, like fresh produce and nuts. They also have a great selection of veggie burgers, my favorite food.

My ward had an evening with a relationship coach, and there was a Q&A session. There were lots of opinions, sometimes contradictory, from lots of people, including some who go on and on without making any sense. At one point, the speaker said that women still like men doing gentlemanly things. Some girls I don't know next to me began mumbling statements of disagreement. I feel like I have a quandary. With some women, if I don't open the door for them, I'm an inconsiderate, unchivalrous jerk. And with some, if I do open the door, I'm a sexist, condescending jerk. I can't win!

One of Jimmy the cat's habits this week has been that he wants to sit on my lap, but he doesn't want me to touch him. One time, he was sitting on my laptop's keyboard, so to discourage him, I began brushing him, which he didn't like. He didn't like it so much that he kept attacking my arm. I was on my side, so I put my arm behind me, and he came around to the other side so he could attack it again. But most of the time he's very affectionate. Having a cat is like having a teddy bear come to life. I'm astonished at the amount of people who harbor an intense hatred of cats, but I don't need those people in my life.

It's fine, I was just going to sit here all night anyway.

 On Tuesday, there was still lots of snow around, and I decided to go running on the Legacy Parkway Trail, which is flat and paved. But I was not feeling well that run. Maybe it was the Shamrock Shake I had for lunch? The snow was gone from all the path, but there were some significant puddles.

The next day, instead of running, I took my bike down to that same path. It was enjoyable, and easy. My Fitbit says my heart rate never exceeded 68 bpm, and my resting heart rate is around 50. So I didn't get many extra calories. I wanted to go to the Bountiful Pond, since I've never been, but the dirt trail was too muddy.

I enjoy the interpretive signs they have at trailheads along the route, so I had a goal of one last sign I wanted to read in Centerville, but somehow I missed it and ended up in or near Farmington before I turned around. I went a total of seventeen miles, a new record--again, very easy.

On Wednesdays, I've been attending two different tutoring sessions for Tongan students. At the first one this week, the missionary in charge was helping a student and asked me, "What do you know about geology?" If you know me, you might think I was jumping up and down for joy. But if you really know me, you would know that I never jump up and down for joy, because I'm not very emotive. At the second one, I helped a kid with percentages. I showed him cross-multiplication and decimals. 

At Christmas, my boss got me a seasonal cookbook, so on Thursday I made green mac 'n' cheese, which used peas, broccoli, and pureed spinach. I liked that it was vibrantly green without any food coloring.

Yes, I eat my food over a newspaper like a dog. I also had corned beef and Irish soda bread from Trader Joe's.

I've created new rules about when and how much candy I can buy, since it's gotten excessive, but I had to break them to buy my all-time favorite holiday candy, See's St. Patrick's Day potato, which looks like a potato and tastes great. During this time of lots and lots of mint, it's nice to have something unique. I like these even more than Caramel Apple Sugar Babies and Candy Cane Tootsie Roll Pops.

 Jimmy also sat on my computer again. He made a very long Facebook post and then posted it, and as he was typing, he watched the cursor roll across the screen. He even turned my screen sideways and zoomed way out.

After an interview on Friday, I stopped at RubySnap Cookies in Salt Lake. I had never been, because their menu online shows no seasonal cookies. But then I found out last month that they do have seasonal ones, so I got their lime cookie. I love mint, but it doesn't need to be the only green flavor at this time of the year.

Two years ago, I bought some material for a St. Paddy's Day pillowcase, but I didn't make it until now. I still don't have any pillowcases for Valentine's Day, Easter, or Pioneer Day.

Here's the thing. I know four-leaf clovers are not an Irish symbol. But I'm an American, and in America, we celebrate St. Paddy's Day with four-leaf clovers.

As I think about those Tongan kids who struggle with basic math, and a friend who is currently going through a very difficult time after living a very difficult life, I realized how privileged and blessed I have been. I almost feel guilty. So I try to help where I can. But maybe I don't do enough. I do have a good life, though.

Top of the Morgan

I was able to cross a few more items off my bucket list this week.

My default winter run has been the eleven miles to and from the Bountiful Temple, but that can get a little difficult and repetitive, so I thought I would change it up this week. I knew that last summer, North Salt Lake put a launching area on the Jordan River, so I thought I would check it out. I didn't particularly care for running down Center Street, because I had to stop at three stoplights, and the sidewalk kept switching sides. But I made it down to Porter's Landing. That was the first time I've been on the shores of the Jordan River. (This run was only 6.6 miles, but it saved the hard part for the end.)

Since I want to go to all 29 counties while I'm 29, I realized that while I am unemployed, it would be super easy to knock off Morgan County. So up I drove through Weber Canyon to go to Morgan. I stopped for lunch in a burger joint. Then I thought, "I'm only twelve miles away from East Canyon State Park. Why not go there?" So I did!

I pulled up to the toll booth (well, it was more of a building than a booth) and stopped to pay the fee. But no one was there. It was $10 to get into the park, but I only had $1 with me, so I put it in an envelope and drove in. But I don't feel bad about it, because I didn't use any of the park's facilities--everything was closed, though there were a few random cars there, and the roads had obviously been plowed. There was really nothing to do there, but I was glad I made it there.

I drove to the other end of the park/reservoir, where there was a resort, but again, there was nothing to do at the resort. It would have been quicker to head home by going south and through Salt Lake, but the road was closed in that direction, so I had to go back through Morgan. I stopped at another burger joint and got a mint shake. Then I headed home.

Thursday was March 1, St. David's Day, the national holiday of Wales. St. David's Day really came on my radar last year, when I was researching Dan Jones and nineteenth-century Wales. I thought I would celebrate it this year, though it's a little hard to do so when you're the only person who even knows what it is. (It has often puzzled me that St. Patrick's Day is the only national holiday besides our own that we really celebrate in the United States.) Our furnace went out that day, so I was happy to wear my red sweater in the house. I listened to some Welsh Celtic music, and I cooked a few things. 

First I made caramelized leeks with quinoa. That is definitely not Welsh food, but leeks are one of Wales's national symbols. It was decent. I wasn't looking forward to the leftovers, but they were fine mixed with leftover beet burritos.

I also made Welsh cakes, which are like a cross between sugar cookies and pancakes, with currants mixed in. (I was really disappointed I forgot to add nutmeg, because I love cooking with nutmeg.) They were quite tasty. I might have to make them next year. (I found an Americanized recipe, because most of the recipes were too British for me to understand.)

Also this week, the book At the Pulpit: 185 Years of Discourses by Latter-day Saint Women, which came out last year, was released online for free. I went all through that book before it was published and saw all the behind-the-scenes stuff. Footnote 28 of chapter 43 is one I greatly contributed to (though I was later embarrassed about some factual discrepancies that another editor pointed out before publication). I posted a screenshot with my name on Facebook shortly before I went to bed. 

That night, I dreamed that my post was somehow public, but Facebook wouldn't let me change the settings of the post to make it private. And in the dream I got all sorts of snarky comments from anti-Mormon hecklers who hadn't even read the book. Because, unfortunately, in real life the internet is not a safe place to be religious. That's why in my review of Peeps Mystery Flavors, I framed my scriptural quotation in the context of academia--not in the context of a religious practitioner.

Rambling about nothing

Six years ago on this blog, I introduced a term, lemits, to refer to this peculiar time of year.

That was a long time ago, and I think it was a little awkward/naive/immature to coin a word for a particular phenomenon in my own life. (If I recall correctly, I dreamed up the word "lemits," and then later, in my waking hours, I decided to make this phenomenon its definition.)

Nevertheless, this is a very real phenomenon for me, though it has been several years since I have felt it strongly.

Between roughly mid-February and early April, there's a really weird feeling in the air. I don't know how to describe it other than weird. It's starting to stay light a little later, but still not that late. (The earlier start of Daylight Saving Time has impacted lemits significantly.) It's trying to be spring, but winter won't release its icy grasp quite yet.

And one of the most problematic parts of it is that it can be (though it isn't always) depressing. Sad things seem sadder, and neutral and even happy things can seem sad. I'm not sure why, because January is a much darker, bleaker, more depressing month. But it's February and March that bring the actual sad feelings.

I had to go to the doctor on Wednesday because I have a weird fungus on my arm. (Wouldn't it be strange awesome if mushrooms could grow on our arms?) They did some basic health checks (they will have inaccurate weight for me, because I was wearing a bulky coat), and they asked me questions about depression. I answered no to all of them, because I really think I'm fine. They asked me if I ever feel down or depressed, and I said no, because this week has really been the only time in quite a while that I have. I don't know if my experience is Seasonal Affective Disorder or something else.

Anyway, this is probably all very boring and makes it sound like I'm really struggling. I'm not. It's just this weird time of year, and the weather annoyed me this week.

Snow is pretty. I'll grant you that. And after studying hydrogeology, I understand it's vital. But it does put a damper on things. My friend wanted to go some places on my bucket list this week, but it snowed, and I thought it unwise to go someplace just for fun on the same day as hundreds of traffic accidents.

It also meant I couldn't do as much running, and I didn't do any biking. I thought about swimming, but the doctor said I have to wait for my fungus to heal. And since I'm counting calories for Lent, I really like doing cardio, because my Fitbit app gives me more calories the more I exercise. (I know the count isn't that accurate the more you exercise, but I'm still pretending it is.) So I have opted to clear snow by hand, rather than use the snowblower, so I can eat more green things. (I also submitted reviews for new Easter products, which should go up in the next week or two.)

On one of my runs, I had to run on the road because the sidewalk was snowy, and there was an uneven surface. I kind of twisted my foot/ankle, but I thought it was just fine--it surprised me more than hurt me, and I ran eight miles after doing so. But then once I was done, it was pretty sore, like I actually hurt it. But it's better now. It does really bother me that people leave their sidewalks unclear, especially if they have nice yards in the summer. If you can keep up the yard, you can keep up the sidewalk. And if you pay someone to do the yard, you can pay someone to do the sidewalk.

I had to drive out to a job interview in the snow, and I didn't like that, even though I purposely picked a car that would be good in snow.

Jimmy the cat has some matted fur, we noticed this week. So when he comes up to me for one of his frequent cuddle sessions, I've been trying to comb them out. I've had some success. But there's still several more, and he doesn't like it when I do it--and I can't say I blame him. Sometimes he gets quite angry with me. Luckily, though, he's quick to forgive.

Today in church I sang "Consider the Lilies" as part of a quintet. I was truly the weakest link and had to do lots of falsetto singing, since I'm not a singer and have a poor range. So I tried to hide my voice behind the better singers.

This post ended up being way more boring than I expected it. But I think it would be even more boring to really describe my life, where all I do is apply to jobs and mill around the house.

Ash Valentine's Day

Of the nine holidays I formally celebrate, Valentine's Day is my least favorite. But that doesn't mean I don't like it. This was an enjoyable week.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a very physical week. The weather was indecisive, and I had some minor problems with my knee and my calf. But I did get to explore parts of a trail near Ensign Peak. It kind of disappeared on a ridge near City Creek Canyon. I wasn't impressed.

After the snow melts, I find all sorts of deer body parts. I also found part of a leg that still had fur and a hoof on it, but I didn't take a picture.

On Valentine's Day, I went out doing errands, including stopping at Winegars grocery store, which is closing. It's been there my whole life, so I'm a little sad. But I can't really say I'm surprised. In 2009 I noticed they had gone downhill, and I can't say they've improved since then. I often prefer going to the new Smith's, Dick's, and Lee's MarketPlace because they're all nicer stores. I saw a random comment on Facebook with a rumor of what the store would become. I find the rumor unlikely, so I won't spread it here--but if it's true, I will be very excited.

Valentine's Day was pretty low-key. I cleaned the kitchen while playing my Valentine's playlist on repeat (it only has sixteen songs). My family had pizza in honor of four years ago, when my mom broke her leg while carrying pizza, and we just watched the Olympics. Some friends dropped off a Valentine card signed by a bunch of friends. It was very thoughtful. Thank you!

Valentine's Day was also Ash Wednesday. I decided to count calories for Lent. You might recall that I counted calories from July 2016 to July 2017, and I gained weight over Christmas and California, so I'm counting again. But forty days is a lot easier/less daunting than a year.

I had several strange, spooky dreams, though I wouldn't necessarily call them nightmares. In the first, I was going up North Canyon, and at the trailhead (at the end of the dirt road), there was a building where I had a job interview. Once I had finished my interview and eaten lunch, I ran up the canyon, wondering if I would catch up with people from my ward who had just walked up. But before I got to Rudy's Flat, I found that a new resort building had been erected there. (There was also a pile of snow with bear tracks in it.) I went in the resort, and even though it was new, it seemed rather old, like the building at the bottom of the trail. But there was a scary clown that lived in mirrors and stalked people. My mind more-or-less consciously created characteristics of this clown. He could travel outside of mirrors, but only for a maximum of thirty minutes. The longer he was out of the mirror, the weaker he would get, and as he got weaker, he would turn into an octopus. He could travel from mirror to mirror, but he could only travel to the next-closest mirror. If you broke a mirror, it just meant there were lots of tiny, jagged mirrors he could travel through. He could also travel to shiny metal, such as handles, but not to reflections in clear windows. He began chasing me (via mirrors) throughout the resort, and even as I ran back down the canyon. (There was a wasp stinging me in there somewhere.)

In the second strange dream, there was a stream that flowed through our backyard. There had recently been a murder, and bones from the victim were carried by the stream. I took some of the smaller bones out, but then I realized I shouldn't do that, because they might test for DNA and I might be a suspect. So when I saw the skull and torso (ribs and backbone) in the stream, I decided to leave them there. I left and came back, and the stream had turned to a mudslide, and the skull and torso were no longer visible. I didn't know if they were buried or if they floated away, but I realized I couldn't leave any more bones in the stream. There were some fires under the mud, and a friend started playing with one, and it turned out the pelvis was on fire. I was deciding whether I should use a stick to fish it out of the stream of flow.

In the third dream, I was stuck at Smith's Marketplace, which was on lockdown because there was a shooter or bomber on the loose. (Isn't it sad I would have dreams like that? I wrote a relevant post five years ago--it's a little dated, but I still mostly agree with it.) The police eventually decided that it was late enough at night that it would be better for us to leave and go home, rather than all be together in one location. But we still had to make our way home with the shooter on the loose. I was with my parents, and after we had driven a little, they decided that the oil in the car was too old, so we couldn't drive it. So we began slowly walking home, and my niece, my aunt, and my grandparents all joined in at some point. At one point I was driving them all on a little kiddie trike, but it was still super slow. I learned that the shooter was a neighborhood kid at Orchard Elementary, and I was worried because we were still going so slow, and to go home we would have to go closer to the volatile zone.

Yesterday, my friend Susan and I went to southern Utah so I could get some more counties off my bucket list for this year: Beaver, Iron, and Washington. We went to the Cedar City Temple, which had a grayish-blue and rust-colored motif.

Cedar City has a great view.

 We also went to the St. George Dinosaur Discovery Site, where a major dinosaur trackway was discovered during construction in 2000. I remember 2000 pretty well! It's amazing that such big finds are still happening in my lifetime. It was fascinating to see all the tracks, especially the skin impressions. But I'm not a paleontologist, so I can't see all the tracks and marks they do.

Sometimes it can be challenging to work on my computer, because my cat will come up needing some love. Today he sat on my laptop. I was listening to music, yet he somehow got more music playing at the same time. Then he turned the volume full blast, and he got a look on his face like, "What is that noise? What's going on?!" Then he muted it and walked away. 😆

Second week of February

I was thinking about making a list of things I don't like (such as ice, feta, and throw pillows) since I didn't have a very interesting week. Yet somehow, each week I get between 50 and 90 pageviews, and I get positive reactions. I even get people thinking my posts are funny, even when I'm not trying to be funny. (Are they laughing at me?) So my list of things I don't like will wait for another time.

It has been on my bucket list to visit every city in Davis County, and I only had one left, South Weber. So I decided to drive up to check it off my list. First I stopped at Layton Hills Mall to get a new Valentine's Day tie, since I had one I hated. (It was very gaudy and covered with hearts and lips. I got it in fifth grade, but it seems a little too romantic for that age.) I also ended up with an Easter tie that I liked more than another one I have.

Then I decided to stop at Kays Creek Parkway, a paved running trail in Layton. It was a fun diversion, with views of Hobbs Reservoir, but it wouldn't be worth the drive just to go there. But I can't judge it very fairly, because nothing is pretty in February.

Then I drove through South Weber. It seemed like a pretty little town. And I had that checked off my list.

On Tuesday, I went downtown to meet a former coworker for lunch. He had heard about this blog from another coworker, so I gave him the URL. So, uh, hi Scott!

I wanted to go to the Capitol, which is also on my bucket list, but it looked very busy, so I didn't.

I went home and biked to the Bountiful Temple from my house. It's much easier than running, even though I went a little farther (because I chose a route that seemed less trafficked).

Jimmy continues to be an adorable, affectionate, and hilarious cat, sitting in and on anything he can.

Since this February is like it was in 2015, the snow has mostly melted and I've been able to hit the trails again, this week the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. On Wednesday I ran to Ensign Peak, about nine miles roundtrip.

On Thursday it was past the last radio tower (about eight miles).

And Friday was a new portion of the trail, and I ended up by a Miocene (I think) conglomerate outcrop, which I saw from the other direction when I ended up in City Creek Canyon on Thanksgiving Day. (This was also about nine miles. I might have gone farther, but I had to get back home for a phone interview.)

This week also brought back the Olympics, the only sports I'm interested in watching. I've found that team spirit and sportsmanship is a lot more friendly in Olympics than it is in team sports. The Olympics have a "We're all in this together" feel. (I heard some of Philadelphia's Superbowl celebrations ended in crime. If you commit crimes to celebrate, you are a horrible person.)

Winter Olympics are intense. With the summer Olympics, I feel like I could do most (or many) of the sports, just on a much slower/weaker scale. I could row a boat, run a race, or lift weights. Not so with winter Olympics. I have never been skiing or snowboarding, and I doubt I would like it. Ice is my archnemesis, so skating is out. Maybe I could do curling?

During the winter Olympics four years ago, my mom was laid up with a broken leg, so these are more favorable circumstances. I got to go to the Olympics sixteen years ago. There's talk of them coming back in twelve years, but if we keep having Februarys like this one, that might not be a viable option.

On Saturday, I was way more lazy than I would have liked to be. And Saturday evening, I happened to catch an episode of Star Trek, which I don't usually watch. It just happened to have a prebirth guest appearance by Lady Gaga.

The desert shall blossom as the hibiscus

Since I'm unemployed, every day is basically a weekend, and I got to do some fun things this week.

I had an interview out in Dugway, a military base in Tooele County. I find it unlikely I would accept a job where I had to go there every day, but I figured it couldn't hurt to interview, and it would be a fun road trip.

It was kind of strange being in Dugway. It looked like any other small desert town you might visit, but I had to get security clearance to go in, and I wasn't allowed to take any pictures.

On my way back, I had to stop in Iosepa, which I had heard of but never visited. I don't know if I'll ever have a reason to go out that direction again, so I had to take my chance.

Iosepa was a town for Hawaiian Saints between 1889 and 1917. They gathered to Utah to be closer to a temple, and the town was named for Joseph F. Smith, one of the first missionaries to Hawaii in the 1850s. I don't know enough about this period to know why all the Hawaiians were sent to the middle of the desert, since it didn't look like what I imagine Hawaii looks like. After a few decades of hardship, most returned to Hawaii when the temple was built in Laie.

As I pulled into the empty parking lot, a single tattered Utah flag fluttered in the wind. The Hawaiian community has a big gathering in Iosepa every Memorial Day weekend, and there were plenty of chairs, staging areas, grills, and restrooms to accommodate crowds. But otherwise it seems very isolated. I signed the guest register and was surprised to see that someone else had been there earlier that day, because I really felt like it was a place people wouldn't go. It was fun to go while I was out there, but I don't think it's worth making a special trip, unless you happen to be traveling west on I-80.

I have also wanted to try my hand at snowshoeing. (I mean try my foot.) My sister had some old snowshoes sitting in our garage, so I decided to try them on and went up to North Canyon, my default running spot during the summer and fall. I don't know if what I did there could technically be considered snowshoeing, because there were plenty of footprints where people hiked it without snowshoes. But I appreciated the extra security, since I'm terrified of slipping. Since I'm used to running up North Canyon, snowshoeing was very slow paced for me. It was more than twice as slow as running. It might make a good exercise backup during the winter, but I don't think it will become my favorite hobby.

It was a warm day, so I didn't worry about temperature. Since it was my first time snowshoeing, I wasn't well prepared. I didn't wear layers like you're supposed to, and I didn't have any snow pants. But I was fine. The worst part was that my heels kept rubbing against the back of my boots, so I have big sores on them now.

I got a robot vacuum on Wednesday. I think the model I got is a little low-tech compared to the others (e.g. I can't program it, and I can't control it with an app), but it appeared to be the best for cat hair. It's a fun little gadget. (I would show you a video, but Blogger and Google have joined forces to make it extremely cumbersome to put videos on here, unless I upload it to YouTube, but it's not special enough for that.)

Since my heels were still recovering from snowshoeing, I decided it would be a good opportunity to use my bike. Since I grew up on a steep hill, and I still live there, biking has never been convenient for me. When I got my car back in September, my two qualifications were good MPG and all-wheel drive, but having room for a bike was also a plus. On Wednesday I had a very short ride up our steep hill, but on Thursday I drove my bike down to the Legacy Parkway Trail. It's very flat, so I put my bike in the highest gear, and off I went. It was delightful. Before I knew it, I found myself in Centerville, so I made my way over to 7-Eleven, where I got a red velvet donut and organic Gatorade. (I don't know what organic Gatorade is, but I thought I'd try it. Water, milk, and Gatorade are the only non-seasonal drinks I can have.) 

After I had downed my Gatorade, it was time to get back on the bike. But what about the bottle? I couldn't bring myself to just throw it in the regular garbage. (Seriously, how do people live with themselves when they buy bottled water and just throw it in the garbage?!) So I tucked my shirt into my pants and stuck the bottle in my shirt so I could transport it home to put in the recycling.

I went about fourteen miles round trip, the farthest I have ever gone on a bike, and since it was so flat, it was astonishingly easy. I barely broke a sweat. A few weeks ago I talked about Facebook stalking an old mission companion who is an unpleasant person. In addition to his Trump-esque comments, he kept bragging about his bike rides, including ones that were a mere eleven miles. True, I'm sure he was going much faster than I did, and I don't know what his terrain was, but if I, as a non-cyclist, can easily bike fourteen miles, then eleven isn't anything to brag about.

The next day I did a nine-mile ride on hillier terrain, and it was considerably more difficult, but it still wasn't that hard. (Every time you go up a hill, it means you get to ride down, which takes no exertion whatsoever.) 

My initial observations are that biking is funner than running. But I think running is safer (it's slower, you're not sharing the same space with cars, it's easier to get out of the way), and it's better exercise (it's harder, and you still have to exercise going down hill). I need to treat biking as a supplement to running, not as a replacement. My heels were sufficiently healed on Saturday to do my new standard winter run, eleven miles round trip to and from the Bountiful Temple.

This week I also had that moment when you read a Mormon blog and the professional historian doesn't know the answer to a question, but you just happen to know it.

Some friends this week asked me if I was going to blog about my rant about Groundhog Day, so here it is. Groundhog Day is fake, you know. It's silly, of course, to think that an animal seeing its shadow changes the season. Also, they are saying that either winter ends in six weeks (the end of astronomical winter), or it ends in early February. But when you think of winter ending, you think of the weather, and if the weather is your definition of winter, then meteorological winter ends on March 1, not March 20. The March 20 "first day of spring" only relates to the length of days, not the weather. But the worst part of Groundhog Day is that Punxsutawney Phil's "decision" is predetermined beforehand. They don't wait to see if he sees his shadow, or even say "it's sunny, so let's assume he sees his shadow." No, they decide it beforehand. Groundhog Day is literally faker than fake.

I don't care that it exists. I mean, we have all sorts of strange holidays and traditions, and it comes from German folklore, and there's a place for that. What gets me, though, is that people think it's actually a big deal. When my niece was in first grade, I remember her saying her favorite February holidays were Valentine's Day and Groundhog Day. Now really, what is there for a first-grader to like about Groundhog Day? Candy? Nope. Music? Nope. Presents? N-O. A day off from school? Not likely. Kids think it's a real holiday only because other people tell them it is.

As far as I'm concerned, Groundhog Day is only a Pennsylvanian regional holiday. And there are lots of regional holidays that are more legitimate, important, and meaningful than Groundhog Day: Arbor Day (Nebraska), Pioneer Day (Utah), Patriots' Day (Massachusetts), Mardi Gras (Louisiana), and more. Yet there are plenty of calendars that include Groundhog Day but none of the others. It makes me madder than it probably should. If you're going to include this garbage Groundhog Day, you need to include the others. 

OK, I'm done.