CAN WE GO BACK TO THE DAYZ. Except not really.

Despite protestations that I was never going to attend a fair again (too many times going to fairs convinced I was going to have a good time, only to puke up blue cotton candy or spend an obscene sum of money to get sunburned and nauseated by beer and deep-fried snickers which seemed like an awesome combination at first but then my friends wanted to go ride a spin-y ride and then I got sick (FAIRS ARE BAD PLACES FOR THE WEAK OF STOMACH), or one time I got yelled at by a cop in the parking lot who slammed his hand down on my car and screamed "DON'T YOU KNOW THE RULES OF DRIVING IN MINNESOTA??" -- this is what fairs do to people), I was easily persuaded to attend the Pima County Fair with @theKFoss by 1) The promise of a free admission pass and 2) Being told that Boyz II Men were the featured entertainers. 

Of course, I remembered almost immediately a reason I do stay away from fairs: rides that make can me pukey and discriminate against odd numbers: 

This is why fairs are bad for a teenager's self-esteem. It's a very restrictive model!

It was also quite hot at first -- I guess it was the earliest day on record that Tucson has hit 100 degrees. 


But gradually, as it became clear that I wasn't going to puke up blue cotton candy or cry over being a single rider (vast improvement over fairs of teenager-hood), I began to enjoy myself. Night fell, and night has the magical ability to turn to fairs from depressing places to magical, neon-lit tabernacles of delight. 


Plus, there are funny signs. 

Baby Don't You Cry -- Gonna Make a Pie

So, lately I've been feeling stressed. Nothing urgent or terrible: just lots of stuff to do, phone calls unreturned, etc. 


And so I made a pie. 


I both love baking, and am sort of self-dramatizing, and this is one of my favorite movies: 





So it's impossible to make a pie without getting this song in my head: 





And if you want some poignancy to your evening, check out a little about actor/director Adrienne Shelly. 


But you know what else I love beside pie? Rice pudding. 


Oh, rice pudding. 

Peak Peak

So, I went on quite a grueling hike up Picacho Peak today (if you click the link, you'll see that there was a Civil War re-enactment going at the same time! Did you know that Westernmost skirmish battle of the Civil War was fought at Picacho Peak? We didn't see the re-eanacment but we did occasionally hear cannon fire during the hike). *Also, apparently "Picacho" means "peak" in Spanish, so the name can be translated as "Peak Peak." **Also, apparently, the whole Peak is a lava flow, but scientists have never been able to figure out where the volcano that exploded the lava was (clearly, aliens involved somehow, no?).


I've passed Picacho Peak numerous times; it's one of those landmarks that indicates you're leaving Tucson for real when you head on a road trip. It's right by the similarly iconic Ostrich Farm and it's not far away from the prison sign that says "Do not stop for hitchhikers."


I thought that after a shower I was gonna collapse into a heap. But instead, I find myself looking at pics and movies from the hike and wanting to post them (admittedly, I am doing this lying in bed, from which I shall not stir). I haven't even got all the photos that my friend N. took, but I the ones I have are so GOLD that I MUST post them. 


This one should not make laugh as much as it does, given that it's me (trying) to be funny. 

Here are the boning flies referenced:

Holiday Party So Late Holidays So Over

It's time for another installment of Laura Takes Pictures of Stuff, Does Not Post Them for a Long Time! 

Back in the holidays, me n' the roomie had a Holiday Party. The theme was, bring any weird food or drink that your family always makes around the Holidays. Like, is there a certain jello salad your grandma always makes? Bring it! 

Before the party, I got a few anxious queries about what constituted "weird." Like, what if the offering was not weird enough? To which the answer was, anything is welcome! Weird and non-weird alike. 

We went shopping for decorations at the dollar store and fortunately we did not get too carried away:

There was lots to enjoy at the dollar store, including The Worst Holiday Ornament of All Time:

Edible Portmanteau

I have a strange fondness for "foods that shouldn't be"; last Thanksgiving, I was all delighted because my parents made a Turducken. A friend of the family ate Thanksgiving with us and afterwards sent me and my mom a link to an article about the Turducken of desserts: the Cherpumple.

"That sounds disgusting," my mom wrote back.

"Disgustingly awesome!" I countered.

So I've wanted to make a Cherpumple ever since.

A Cherpumple is:

Cherry pie baked in white cake 

on top of an

Pumpkin pie baked in yellow cake

on top of an

Apple pie baked in spice cake. 

Frosted all over with cream cheese frosting.

This Thanksgiving, I was invited to a big potluck and I am totally on picking up my dishes that I totally left there sorry about that. and I figured this was the ideal moment: if it was a weird disaster, there'd be other desserts; people could laugh about the cherpumple and still eat real pumpkin pie.

So: first you bake a pumpkin pie, apple pie, and cherry pie.

Strange Clouds 2: Old Pictures of All Soul's

Edited to add some awesome videos from Jason! 

While I wait for my cherpumple to cool so that I can frost it, I thought I'd post some pictures from All Soul's. 

I hadn't been to the parade in years, and I had never dressed up. But thanks to my friend Natalie, who is actually artistically talented, I had access to lots of make-up and glitter and supplies.

I looked at some examples of what people did for make-up online, and then got started, sure I was basically just going to make a mess of my face.

First, I drew big circles around my eyes in eyeliner; then smeared on some generic body glitter. Then onto that I put on actual glitter from Michael's. So I learned something: When you want to put on body glitter that will actually last, use...actual glitter. You can keep it attached with the body glitter, but the real glitter looks so much better! Who knew?

Halloween Shenanigans: Strange Clouds

So I actually put in some effort into Halloween this year -- me and Bad Cholla spent an afternoon at Savers creating Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding costumes. 

For those wondering if the costumes were a little outdated (Jason: "Timely. What you going to be next year? Judge Ito?"), they were originally conceived of for a roller skating party. But then--ironically--the Tonya Harding to my Nancy Kerrigan suffered an injury, and we didn't go roller skating. While we eventually wore the costumes on Actual Halloween and I think they were successful, when I told people, "Originally, they were gonna be worn roller skating," the person always went from "polite about costumes" to "Oh! That WOULD HAVE been really clever!" So the true epic awesomeness potential was never fully unlocked, but I think we still did good. See?

Signs of Life: Politics in Arizona

Awwww! I miss my blog. I haven't updated in FOREVER. I miss being unemployed.

[This is hardly a revolutionary theory, but I'm pretty sure there's a direct relationship between "underemployment" and "amount of time spent blogging." Similarly, I'm pretty sure there's a inverse relationship between "amount of sex someone is having" and "amount of time spent blogging." No, I don't mean to say that bloggers are underemployed and sexless. I think they're underemployed AND/OR sexless]*.**

*Don't hate! Imma blogger! This applies to me too!

**Also, obviously doesn't apply to professional bloggers, who, like, blog for food and shelter.

Anyway, I've got a backlog of blogs I wanna post, but most are of the long/ambitious variety.  So I decided to go with a Signs of Life Photo Essay. Presented largely without comment, Politics in Arizona: A Photo Essay.

Meattreal

Montreal, Part Deux!

My basic reaction to Montreal:

These hearts are outside the Fine Arts (sorry "Beaux Arts") Museum (Musee des) where this guy and I saw an exhibition of contemporary surrealist art called "The world is blue like an orange" (which we went to full of skepticism but it turned out to be awesome).

So I'm doing post #2 about Montreal, even though this guy claims not to read anybody's blog, as they are all "masturbatory." I tried to explain that my blog is not masturbatory but rather narcissistic and insecure. Subtle but distinct difference.

A Little Poem About How Lovely Dan Is

Once there was a little sausage named Dan
He lived happily ever after.