B-Boy carts

Has anyone here ever had the distinct pleasure of getting a shopping cart with all four wheels capable of independently rotating? Most of the carts I've gotten have the just the front two wheels free, meaning then can essentially just turn left or right, like an automobile. But man, when you get your hands on one of those luxurious babies that have all four wheels free, that is sheer shopping bliss. There is something liberating about being able to spin your cart 360 degrees as you walk, or push it down an aisle completely sideways. They are like the breakdancers of shopping carts, freestyling their way up and down the aisles.

Containment

I've gone lawn crazy the last week I've been at my sister's house. Determined to get her lawn whipped into shape, I've been working away at during the day. I feel like a necromancer, actually, since I brought this rusty old lawnmower the previous owners left at the house roaring back to life through the judicious application of new gas, oil, and a fresh spark plug.


But all this yard work has carried with it an unfortunate price: trips to Wal-Mart. Since my sister lives in the western Salt Lake City developments, Wal-Mart is the only reasonably close place to buy needed supplies. Yes, I'm making excuses for going there, but the key point in all this is that I've been to Wal-Mart more in the last week than I have in the last year. And after experiencing it so many times first-hand in such a compact time-frame, I've decided that Wal-Mart needs designated "befuddlement zones" for its customers.

I simply cannot emphasize the depth of my visceral loathing for people who amble down the aisles, only to suddenly stop, turn their cart sideways to block all traffic, and then stare around them in a daze as they try to recall what they were looking for, where it is located, who they are, and what the meaning of life is. I don't understand this Wal-Mart amnesia, this bizarre stupefaction that paralyzes nearly every shopper there. I'm picturing a roped off area in the middle of the store where people can wander around aimlessly, gaping off into the distance harmlessly, all while decidedly not clogging up the aisles. It brings a smile to my face when I think of these lost fools bumping into each other with vacant looks on their faces.

The Gatekeeper

For anyone out there wondering if Hot Fuzz is worth seeing, the answer is unreservedly yes. It is deliriously entertaining, fully living up to the promise of their earlier film, Shaun of the Dead. It is genuinely a massively superior film, even working in very, very sly references to movies such as Chinatown and Straw Dogs. (As for the latter, I'm not just talking about the mention of the man who worked as an extra on that film, but a very specific event that will be obvious to anyone who saw Straw Dogs. Sweet.) Can't wait to see it again.


Anyway, what was also of note was the thoroughly confounding system set up at the Jordan Landing 24 Cinema in Salt Lake City. After we got out tickets, we were directed to a cordoned-off area next to the restrooms that looked as if it served as a holding area until the theater was cleaned out. But when I asked other patrons in the holding zone, they were waiting for a variety of movies to start, so I decided to ask a worker so I could clear up the confusion. The first kid I asked claimed he didn't even work there, so I moved on to the ticket-gal who pointed me there in the first place. She cryptically mumbled something about "open", so I gave up on her. Other people in line were just as confused, and I saw a third employee claim no knowledge of the purpose of the roped-off area. What a system they have.

Illiteracy sux

What the hell was with my post from the other day? Three sentences long and rife with spelling errors? Jeez...here is the original, with proper fixes added in bold:

I had (hate)April in the inter-mountain West. Yesterday it was 65 and sunny, and now (a) minor blizzard has moved in to Salt Lake City. Go to sleep, Old Man!!

Old Man Winter Strikes Back

I had April in the inter-mountain West. Yesterday it was 65 and sunny, and now minor blizzard has moved in to Salt Lake City. Go to sleep, Old Man!!

So sorry

This is an official apology to Gregg, who was hurt that he took me to two free movie dates so far and I didn't extend the ballet offer to him during either of those times. Sorry Gregg, next time I'll invite you on a ballet date when the opportunity arises. That being said, perhaps I can make it up to you with a similarly high-brow cultural event? 2 Live Crew is playing this weekend...I'd be interested to see who goes.

Big Plans

What can I say? Brian is on to me. In the comments to an earlier post he made the bold proclamation that my impending move to Eugene (say, does anyone think this is where eugenics originated?) was merely a pretext to be closer to him. I admit that visions of drunken tomfoolerly are dancing in my eyes, particularly in Portland, a place where we can be free-wheeling and then slip out of town in shame at the end of a bad weekend.

Now that I think about it, though, this theory of moving to be close to Brian is likely to be believed most readily by his co-managers at his workplace. They were the ones, after all, who thought that we were a gay couple at his Christmas party this year. Turns out this was a couples event, and well, Brian invited me along, so I'm not surprised the people there drew their own conclusions.

The Big Four-Oh

I've got tickets to the Wednesday performance of Giselle at the Capitol Theatre next week, and I am hoping to get some last minute tickets on the cheap for at least one or two other performances during the week. Doing the math in my head, if I can manage to catch a few shows next week, I'll be coming up on my 40th ballet soon. I've been meaning to writing a long post articulating the basis for my obsession with the ballet for some time now, but haven't quite done it yet.

I have to say, though, that while 40 may sound like a lot, it doesn't seem like nearly enough for me at all, and I think that stems from the fact that I attended over 30 ballets in the course of a single year. Consequently, I have long periods of my life that have been ballet-free. I'm looking forward to that changing next week...it's been too long.

Funhouse

Gregg got comped with some free movie tickets from a local radio station recently, so he treated me to a hot date at the Grindhouse monday night. Our tickets caused a minor sensation at the moviehouse, though, and the issue had to be escalated through three levels of management before we could get in. It started with the standard-issue teen who works every counter in every movie theatre in America, then went to the floor manager, who finally had to get approval from some higher authority. Once we got the go-ahead, Gregg had to sign in on their log, and I'm pretty sure I caught one guy surreptitiously trying to take a hair sample from Gregg for the DNA database they keep on free-ticket redeemers.

For those of you who haven't seen Grindhouse (and judging by the box office totals, most of you haven't), I would heartily recommend it for a blast at the movies. And for the gents in the audience, I must say that Rosario Dawson was looking spectacular. Oh, and I totally want to date a New Zealand stuntwoman now.

Scene Missing

I've scarcely done much online the last few weeks, mainly because I've had scant new information to impart to my good friends out in the nebulous world of cyberspace. The big news is that I accepted the offer of admission to the University of Oregon's PhD program for this fall, turning down Boston University and American University. Getting in to Boston and American is a double-edged sword; on the plus side, they are both highly ranked schools (American is one of the top 10 schools for my field) and are very competitive, as American admits less than 10% of applicants while Boston lets in less than 7%, if what the graduate people told me was correct.

The main issue, as with many things in life, turned out to be money, a resource that I alas have next to none of. As much as I would have liked to live in Washington D.C. or Boston, the financial aspect couldn't be ignored. So while I got into great schools, I can't afford to attend them as they only give out limited scholarship funds. The estimated cost of attending American University is close to $40,000 a year, and Boston is similarly priced. Oregon, meanwhile, is about half that cost, and I managed to get a full tuition scholarship and a paid teaching job while I study there. Oregon is still a fine school, so I don't feel bad about going there at all; my main issue was wanting to live in a large urban environment again, like Boston or D.C. Ah well. I guess I can apply for jobs in larger cities when I'm finally done.

Still, this means that Brian will be seeing me this fall, along with everyone in Portland.