You've all heard of Sprinkles, so I'll skip the rave. Basically the thirty-minute line was worth the wait and gave us good time to debate our choice of eight, of which the five most favorite were:
1. RED VELVET
2. COCONUT
3. VANILLA
4. STRAWBERRY
and
5. CHOCOLATE BANANA
17.6.09
spun sugar
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17.6.09
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16.6.09
if your heart is in your dream
We went to Disneyland. And it was such the best. Which deserves a lot more words, I know, but I'm usually at a loss when it comes to this place. They've said all there is to say, okay? Happiest. Place. On Earth.
So I'm a total Disney purist--and maybe even a snob--but I did take a try at California Adventure this time around and would give it a sound A based entirely on set and design. We'll have to skip the ride review, however, as my one go at Tower of Terror more or less destroyed any happy thoughts I may have had beforehand. As the photo below documents, I spent most of that freefall screaming at Liv to make it stop (it didn't). Seriously, my feet jumped out of my shoes on that thing. And they were ankle-strap sandals.
Anyway, I lived. But only after a few deep breaths and a round of kiwi tea. Yes, I'm all wimp. And no, I did not go on the rollercoaster, okay?
But I did see the HSM noon-time extravaganza. Twice. Which totally justified Liv missing her actual graduation.
Having had enough excitement for one morning, Liv and I hopped backed over to Disneyland for the classic (and only true) experience. This involved checking off nearly every ride in the park, a moment of panic in deciding which color Dumbo to ride, model shots on the carousel, and quite simply the most humongous sheep we've ever seen. See also: several classic people-watching commentaries, a particularly lovely Aussie boy in line for Pinocchio, the beehives on the Winnie-the-Pooh ride rock like little cradles through heffalump-and-woozle rooms and maybe I could stay there all day.
But the true magic began as the day came to an end--the launch of Disneyland's newest summer fireworks show titled, ever-so aptly, Magical. Gathered there on Main Street, a day of childhood come to its close, the fireworks set to orchestral crescendoes . . . and then Dumbo has to swing out about the castle to the tune of Baby Mine and well, so maybe we cried. Or just teared up. A little bit. Barely. And afterwards there was confetti in Mickey shapes and fairy dust like we could fly, too, so really--who could blame us?
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16.6.09
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9.6.09
pomp and circumstance. or, that one time we thought mum had the swine flu, my car broke down, and olivia graduated.
In a stroke of what can only be called genius, Olivia's taking her high school walk down Disneyland's Main Street USA this year---which meant we got to celebrate family-style tonight in our own little take on the ceremony. Complete with white robe, gold tassel, and requisite lei, Olivia gave a most inspired and inspiring Valedictorian speech (all quotes attributed to that ever-poignant Anonymous), which Joey followed up with something about wallets being green, blue, red, or white and a magic show involving a lot of hopping across a blanket. It was, all said, quite the best graduation I've ever attended.
Except that, in the two hours before the party, my mum's friend called to tell her that she has swine flu and maybe that's why my mum's been feeling a bit sick, too? And so the party took a tailspin as dad drove her off to the hospital while we quickly killed all original plans of a homemade dinner full of finger food and went for Spaghetti Factory instead. After which I dashed up to my Stake President's house to sign off on my visa papers and came back to my car half a minute later to find it dead. (And oh, did I mention the monsoon rain?) Naomi leapt into action with an emergency supply of chocolate and a large HELP fingered into the fogged-up window, but in the end we had to leave the car on the hill and high-tail it back home for the actual graduation ceremony. By that time (hooray) mum's test had come back negative and so life was back to somewhat normal until mum sliced her finger open with a chicken knife.
But that's a story for another day.
In the interim, one especially special thought from tonight's commencement:
to the highest of your hopes, to the windows of your opportunities,
and to the most special places your heart has ever known.
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9.6.09
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6.6.09
unfortunately, I woke up.
Dreamt I was deep in a World War III Resistance Movement last night. All sorts of amazing---the dark urban backdrop, some shiny-silver high-tech gadgets, a particularly moving scene where an overwhelming nostalgia for a once peaceful and bright childhood (shown in polaroids and post-marked mail) was juxtaposed against air raid sirens and orphans in fallout shelters while the sky shook overhead. But mostly amazing because my trusty sidekick whistled while he worked and also I was wearing these:
Which is when I knew for sure I had to be dreaming because my mother would cry if she even thought I would wear them.
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6.6.09
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5.6.09
none the wiser
Feeling kind of gypped.
Because remember how it eventually comes up in every conversation? The oh yeah, man---that was a crazy kind of pain! one. And then everyone jumps in with their own heroic episodes of gauze wraps and lortab and it sounds like maybe this was a week-long ordeal and it all ends with a sigh that means Yep. I feel ya. And I'll be like Oh, sure. That was . . . yeah. Totally.
Not that I'm really all that beat up about it. Did manage to fit in some stellar cinema and sufficient chocolate/banana shakes. Favorite Lee Pace was really quite stunning in Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day. And I do love any afternoon that involves comforters and cats.
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5.6.09
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4.6.09
pioneer children sang as they walked
I was seven years old when Jenny and I decided that our life goal+dream was to work at This Is The Place State Heritage Park. Think about it! Bonnets and calico and chickens to feed in the morning! Only the age restriction kept us from pulling a handcart up the hill and joining their ranks right that minute. In the meantime, we busied ourselves with drawn-out summertime dramas involving several grass-and-weed stews and a few deaths by cholera.
So, okay, I go through historical phases. Luckily this one didn't last long enough to see us in boots and bloomers at East High, but after Monday's trip to This Is The Place I may be rethinking career choices. It was better than I ever remembered.
Basically, they've completely revamped the place and made it all the better---roads run off Main Street out to old mills, lonely farmsteads, or Native American villages. You can catch a wee train just outside the Huntsman Hotel for a full tour or a quick trip up the steeper hills, and an even more miniature locomotive takes you around the mill pond for a sweeping view of Salt Lake City below. The village houses have been painted over and tidied up, the corner bank is up and running in 1850s currency, and the news shop is surely rolling out the latest issue of Deseret even as I type. Even on a late Monday afternoon, the park was a busy, vibrant place.
Plus, you learn lots! The docents can answer most any question put to them and talked to us about everything from spinning wool to weighing gold dust, and an Apache warrior took us through Shoshone tepees and Navajo hogans. Come closing time, we actually didn't want to leave. First adventure of June? We give it a win.
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4.6.09
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frog on.
There are really only two people in this whole wide world that warrant a welcome involving frog masks and muffin signs---and then prompt me to go public in such regalia, too. What can we say? Anything for our NZ besties.
We've been waiting for this reunion for---literally---years, and now that it's come, we're certainly going to live it up. We've got a month of adventure ahead of us and, selfishly enough for me, it's proved perfect timing. As they discover my hometown and this great state, I get one heckuva Farewell Tour, visiting sites and scenes I may have forgotten otherwise before Indonesia. Raani + Whitney have been here all of five days and we've already checked off a good chunk of our list---and next week? Disneyland.
I'm telling you. We're making this count---it's not for nothing we're called Eternal Partners in Crime (or, because we're cool like this, E.P.I.C.) So while posting might be scarce this month, rest assured that what does make it to the blogboard will be worth the look.
xoxo.
E.
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4.6.09
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