We're on a road to nowhere

I'm still wondering why not more people were at the Retribution Gospel Choir show at Kilby Court last night. Maybe Low isn't a cool band among the newest hipsters, so they didn't know that one of indies most influential musicians was in town. Maybe Subpop isn't deemed "with it" in 2010. I hope it was just finals.

It was an odd crowd. A few neo-hippies/hipsters. The avid, activist SLC cyclists. The girl who looked like she just stepped out of Forks, Washington (or wished she had). The too-eager couple, whose male counterpart met band leader Alan Sparhawk while serving his mission in Duluth and hadn't heard of Low until then and has overbearingly idolized Sparhawk and family since then. There was the other boy there who was alone, also wearing a chambray shirt, cuffed dark denim jeans. Basically he was wearing what I was wearing, only definitively masculine. And of course the older couple, the wife who didn't look like she'd been out of the house recently enough to realize that wearing cropped cargo pants with heels just isn't done anymore. But you know, she rocked the mom look nonetheless.

And as I sat alone on my red-bench-for-one, I thought, "What are these people thinking about me based on how I'm dressed? On how I'm sitting? On the fact I came alone?"

I cleaned my whole house today, territories I use at least, and I'm loving it. After about week three of living here, I realized (and Jeff help me realize) that my efforts in cleaning were unappreciated and abused. So I stopped. I've been wearing slippers around my house and setting NOTHING on any countertop since. But now everything is disinfected and glistening.

I started washing my face with olive oil last night. Extra virgin. Ladies and gentlemen, you must try it! My skin feels so supple, my skin tone more even, redness diminished. Oh, the wonders of nature!

I am making a goal this very beautiful spring moment to blog more and also spruce up my blog! I used to write a lot about interesting things and now I'm so boring. The lending industry has made me boring.

I got to watch Trevor for a few hours today. We had the best time! We bought "Where the Wild Things Are," and he's understandably obsessed with it. We ate lunch at the Cougareat. As we walked out, Trevor stomped and waddled and hollered: "I'M A ROBOT I'M A ROBOT!!!" at the top of his lungs until we were out of earshot of anyone else and he'd had his fill of being cute. Of course everyone who saw him was cracking up. He looked so cute today, dressed in a kelly green polo, plaid shorts and orange crocs. The kid is a dream. As we crossed the street outside the Wilk, a lady actually yelled from her car window as she passed: "He is SOOOO cute!!" Boy, he just soaked it up all day, until the cashier at the BYU Bookstore scared him so badly with her oo's and ah's that Trevor made me carry him for ten minutes until he wasn't scared anymore.

I want a baby. Someday.

Lastly, my current favorite song is "Road to Nowhere" by the Talking Heads. 1. Because it's a good summer song. 2. Because I feel like I'm on the beach with Fred and Ben Savage, having just climbed out from under a bum's lawnchair, i.e. portal to the monster underworld.