Okay, so, hey. What is up? I am back in the D of C now. I have lived here for two years and have gone on a first and sometimes second date with every guy here between the ages of 22 and 30 but OF COURSE now that I am moving away in a month, I met my like dream boy last night. And why not? Damn you, Murphy’s Law! I spit on you. Ptah!

Do you want to hear about Salt Lake City? It was salty and just as wholesome and clean and crisp as I remembered it being. Flying in is amazing. Coming from the east coast, the mountains are just so shocking. You’re flying over these snow-capped peaks and actual plateaus, which I had previously only read about in geography textbooks, and then suddenly there’s a town just below, encircled by a ring of mountains. Wild.

Our show went well. It was a rah-rah meeting for a pharmaceutical company, to rev up their sales reps, who were all beautiful and smartly-dressed in their little heels and khakis (women and men respectively). I was racing around and around all the ballrooms of the hotel for four days straight so I was wearing sturdy shoes, much like a nurse or a librarian, and was jealous of all their adorableness.

(And their leisure time, but it’s sort of my job to be, you know, working, so that’s not really a valid complaint.)

On the big final night, the entertainment was the B52s, which was awesome. I had time off during their performance so my pal from our Chicago office and I got to shake it on the dance floor. They were really cool. I had never seen them before and they sounded great, just like they do on their albums. They played all the delightful radio hits. Before you ask, they do not wear their hair in beehives anymore. As a rule. Do not even ask! The beehive is no longer on the menu!

And now it is time for the pictoral illustrations of the trip!

Behold, the mountainy goodness of Utah.

See how pretty?

Check out how clean the streets are. No garbage blowing around. No homeless people even. It’s like Mayberry.

I love that they have a trolley system. So Euro and environmental.

Arty blurry shot.

Arty nighttime shot, in which you can see nothing but I like the color of the sky here.

My ginormous hotel room. I regret to inform you that I never got around to taking photos of the lobby and corridors of our hotel, but trust me, it was like living in Versailles. In.Cred.I.Ble. Everything was ornate and gilded. There was a mirror in one of the ballrooms that was rumored to have cost a million dollars. (In the words of Dr. Evil, “One meellion dollars!“)

Topic Change

Also, the art auction last Saturday went very well. I was expecting it to be a standard auction, with the auctioneer and the little paddles and everything, but it was a silent auction. All the art was spread out in various rooms of this convention center, and each had a sheet with a list of prices, so people would go around and put their names next to whatever price they were bidding. My orange painting was in the room that closed for bidding first out of all the rooms, and nobody had bid on it at closing time, which made me sad and embarassed. Although to be fair, it was so early in the night (ie. people were not very liquored up) that not very many pieces in that room had any bids.

But the yellow painting was in the room that stayed open the latest, and it had an actual little bidding war going on for it! I kept checking back on it and each time there would be a new signature. Which was awesome.

So my yellow painting is gone forever but I still have the orange one, since it was all pathetic and rejected by society and stuff. There is a happy ending though, because one of my coworkers is obsessed with orange and she wants to just buy it herself, for her house! Rock. It is nice to be unloading some stuff before I move. Also the money and the validation is not too bad. I think with this sudden extra cash I am going to buy an ipod, so that once school starts I can listen while I paint in my little cubicle. (And, to be honest, possibly forget that I am in public and sing along and annoy everyone around me.)

Again with the phototage!

Here is my apartment, in the midst of being packed up. This is what it looks like when you walk in the door.

And this is what it looks like when you are standing in the kitchen, at the far end of the bedroom/living room/only room.

See that rug under the coffee table? It’s gone now. My mom packed it up and hauled it away yesterday. Now, The Big Lebowski is one of my favorite movies ever, and I always laugh at that line about how his rug “really tied the room together,” but I never really GOT it. I never really understood what that meant in practical terms. Well, now I know. I mourn the loss of my shagadelic 70s Scandinavian rug. My apartment looks crazy now. It’s just so un-tied together, you know? Bah.

In finality

I went out with a friend last night, and also her friend, her friend’s boyfriend, and one of HIS friends. (Ack, sorry; I need a flow chart for this story.) The boyfriend’s friend was awesome and I love him. However, I am moving out of my apartment two weeks from yesterday. Sad sad, cry cry, crappy timing etc. I hope he calls.

Have a pleasant Sunday, friends.