When It's Easier To Laugh Than Cry

We received an alert or several that a sly wind from the east was coming in. Apparently the air from wherever was about to cross over from Colorado and Wyoming and ultimately hit our quiet little Salt Lake City.

I'm told high winds can result when a huge build-up of cold air hits our mountains and then pours down them into our very lovely valley. 

By early Tuesday morning all of those nannies from Mary Poppins were getting launched directly over my house as we legit had category 3 hurricane winds, which is not a thing I thought I'd say about my 2020 at 4,500 feet elevation, deep in the desert mountains of Utah.

As it turns out, high winds are terrifying. Nearly the entire city immediately lost power. I say "nearly" because somehow our house seemed to be the only place in town that had electricity (it's been a few days since the storm and there are still large parts of the city without power). My friend Emily came over to work from my house after this happened at her house:

What Has Been Your Best Coping Mechanism of Late?

I've been going on very long runs every weekend for about a year. I started these for my "Year of Health" in 2019, and then noticed pretty quickly that they were possibly the thing I looked most forward to each week.

I usually do them on Sunday NOT THAT WE KNOW WHAT BREAKING THE SABBATH IS afternoons. I start from my house and run to downtown Salt Lake City, weaving through some neighborhoods, and then I turn around and come back home. It's about a 12-13 mile run, depending on how many detours I take.

The Sunday afternoon run has honestly been the best thing I have ever done for my anxiety. Since I started doing it last spring, I have been calmer than I can remember being in a long time. I told you recently that my Achilles was hurting me and this stressed me out to no end because the last thing I needed while on lock-down during a pandemic was to lose my ability to go on these weekend runs. Fortunately I got some advice for physical therapy exercises I can do at home and they have been a miracle.

I did not expect these to work. I kind of don't trust anything a doctor ever says to me. I don't know why. Maybe it's because my brain is so incapable of computing science on even the most basic levels that whenever a doctor prescribes me something I feel like they're just attempting to do magic tricks. This, of course, drives my medical student husband crazy.

Mormon Mothers

Skylar told me last night that he thinks "scolding" is a super power of Mormon mothers.

I had never heard this opinion from him, or anyone, but I implicitly agreed with him before taking a moment to blurt out, "wait; why?"

Skylar isn't from Utah. His exposure to mass Mormonism is a relatively recent aspect of his 28-year life. In fact, his first real visit (read: not an airport layover) was in late 2015. He was living in Wisconsin at the time. He started visiting Salt Lake City with some regularity that year because I'm very attractive and he couldn't help himself.

Uncovering Utah's uniqueness for him since then has been a surprisingly delightful experience for me. Most of this is because he has approached everything in our great state with nothing more than a polite and respectful curiosity.

Believe me when I say this is rare around these parts. Most people I know in Utah have very strong opinions, in one direction or another, about Mormonism and, specifically, Mormons. This is true of people who move here as well. They decide how they feel about the place before they get here and then they find whatever evidence they can to support their belief.

A Locked Car

A homeless woman got my attention as I was walking to my car. She was blonde and looked a little rough around the edges, but simultaneously kind. She pointed at the car parked in the middle of the street--something very fancy-shmancy, silver, and sleek--and she asked me if it was mine.

I told her it wasn't, but I was curious why she was asking because I was raised by Cathie Whittle McCann who taught me that you should always become involved in everything ever, especially if it is happening inside a grocery store.

This wasn't happening inside of a grocery store. It was happening just outside of Church & State, where our show will take place this Friday. (P.S. get tickets here.)

I had stopped by to meet with Blair, the director of the venue, so we could dig through an entire room full of audio equipment that is so intimidating that you all just became more inadequate for my mentioning it.

We did a few sound tests because, five shows later, I guess I have finally learned that it's not a bad idea to get these things worked out not five minutes before the show is supposed to start.

May my sweat-soaked suits rest in peace.

The sound-checking had gone well enough, and I was gleefully walking back to my car, parked on the side of the road, when the homeless woman got my attention.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

I have a work thing this week in Chicago, or as Bob and Cathie like to call it "DON'T GET MURDERED." I'm staying with my childhood best friend Sam. He's an orthodontist and apparently they get up at negative elventy o' clock in the morning for work because he was long gone by the time I rolled out of bed.

I realized that I had totally forgotten to pack my computer charger and underwear when I got out of the shower and tried to get dressed and quickly finish drafting something that needed to be filed in court today. And so, totally unfamiliar with the city and desperately wanting not to get murdered because then Bob and Cathie would be all like "SEE WE TOLD YOU" and that would be super annoying, I ventured out onto the streets.

Thirty minutes later I found a store that sold both a universal charger AND underwear.

Checkout Woman: 9:00 AM and you out buyin' underwear and chargers.

Eli: And I found both in the same store! It's a Halloween miracle!

Checkout Woman: We have fresh-baked goods, too, if you're looking for breakfast.

Eli: Shut up. You had me at hello.

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

Chicago

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

Duncan has been going through this phase since he was born where he likes to get up in the middle of the night, jump off of the bed, and then scratch my bedroom door until I take him outside so he can poop the sins of all mankind even though he already did this right before we went to bed and eleventy times throughout the day before that. The Internet told me that he doesn't actually need to go poop in the middle of the night and that he's only doing it because I'm enabling him by getting up and letting him outside. Which kind of made me annoyed at the Internet because why does it always think it knows everything, including when we need to poop?

So last night I tried to ignore him and I thought it was working because he got really quiet. Then after a while I opened my eyes to see where he was and he was standing over my head, looking into my soul, and now I'm 45% convinced he's a dementor and he was preparing to practice the Kiss of Death.

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

Airbnb

I'm having some sort of midlife crisis recently, one that I don't have the stamina to try to explain right now. It's causing me to make some rash decisions. For example, I started a furniture-making business with Adam despite having never ever made furniture in my entire life.

The furniture business was a result of a series of panic attacks wherein I suddenly became extremely worried that for irrational and illogical reasons I am going to (a) lose my job, (b) become incapacitated, (c) zombie apocalypse, (d) The Queen of Colors, (e) etc.

I just suddenly became really worried that I'm not being smart with money and that I won't ever be able to retire or provide Tami the lifestyle that she demands.

My friends are extremely worried right now. These are actual quotes from them over the last month:

You need to pull yourself together because I'm counting on you raising Ollie when I'm dead.  Matt

If you become an Uber driver I'm taking your keys away.  Skylar

Please don't start selling your body.  Cathie

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

So last night I went to Wendy's at 11:00 PM because last I checked this is still America and I can do what I want STOP JUDGING ME. I went through the drivethrough because obviously I wasn't wearing pants or shoes and when I got to the window the man handed me a bag with 12 hamburgers in it which was crazy because I only ordered three STOP JUDGING ME.

He said that they just made a whole bunch and they didn't want to throw them out so they were giving them to me and I screamed "THANK YOU" like I just won the lottery but then as I was pulling away I realized that I didn't know what I was going to do with the 9 burgers I didn't order (ok let's be honest, the 7 burgers). And I also didn't want to throw them away because Bob and Cathie raised me in the great depression and one should never throw any food away so then I drove around in the snow looking for homeless people to give them to, and as I stepped out of my car, pantsless and shoeless, to do so, I kept feeling the need to explain to everyone that Wendy's gave me these for free because I didn't want unearned credit for good deeds, but mostly everyone just seemed interested in the fact that I wasn't wearing pants and then one man (whom I actually know) asked me if I wanted one of his blankets.

So yeah. I'm not sure whether I did any good last night. But I did eat 8 hamburgers right before bed.

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

Mr. Pants, just as we brought out the stuffing. 

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

Cathie: Why do you always say "not that I know what that means, Cathie" on your blog?

Eli: I'm covering myself so I don't get in trouble since I know you read Stranger.

Cathie: Well I'll have you know I'm actually much rougher around the edges than you think. I smoked a cigarette once when I was ten!

Eli: WHAT?! You bad ass!

Cathie: HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT WORD!?

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

Hiking with good company in Salt Lake City.

Snow Angels

This has been a snowy winter for us good folks of Salt Lake City. And I've actually been pretty happy about this even though snow is Satan's pollen. Or insecticide. Or feces. I'm not sure which analogy to draw here. The point is, Satan is responsible for snow and winter and cold and Glee and it is important to know this so we can recognize the signs of the times and get in our crowded bunkers when the moment is right.

I CALL MIDDLE!

The reason I've been happy about the snow is because last year it basically didn't snow at all and it just felt weird. Like that feeling you used to get when you knew you were supposed to be in really big trouble but your mom didn't even bother yelling at you and this actually made you feel even more uneasy.

And I didn't assume that God was protecting me by keeping the snow away because I had said "hell" and "damn" a lot more than usual earlier in the year so I don't think he was really on my side at that time. This left me with the overall sense that the lack of snow meant we finally polluted enough to destroy the planet, which means fewer puppies and that Paul Simon might be mad at me for not doing something to stop it.

Snowmageddon

You guys. The worst thing that can ever happen happened today. Snowmageddon hit Salt Lake City. WHERE I LIVE.

Bob woke me up this morning with his routine phone call he makes to all four of his children throughout every winter, informing us that it snowed and asking us not to live our lives by going outside or doing anything whatsoever. Cathie can usually be heard in the background yelling redundant instructions.

I informed Bob that I would probably just work from home if it really was all that bad and he congratulated me for my wisdom with a tone in his voice like he was considering nominating me for family member of the month, which is a really difficult thing to win in any family in which Cathie resides.

I looked outside and discovered that more snow had fallen over night than all of last winter combined. I actually don't think that's an exaggeration. Can I get an amen from any of my SLC brothers and sisters?

For reasons I spent the remainder of my day trying to figure out, I decided to attempt to drive to the office rather than just work from home, which was a perfectly viable option.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

Rebecca has been out of my life for two weeks now and I'M NOT PLEASED. I haven't heard much from her. But last weekend she called me at some probably illegal hour, because that's the only time she ever calls me, and left a very long and confusing voicemail in which I heard such phrases as "flood!" and "excessive water damage!" and "my hair is very pretty!" and "and don't you dare say this is a girl who cried wolf situation!"

I waited 48 hours to text her, asking if she was ok. She responded that whatever the crisis was, she got it all worked out and not to worry.

You guys. Why did it take me this many years to figure out the trick to avoiding Rebecca's disasters?

But gosh I miss her.

And now, your Pictures and Distractions:

"Bad Influence"

I Took the Road Less Traveled By

It was the same course I usually ride. A canyon opens near my house. It's a quick access way to get my bike out of the city and into nature. It's a beautiful place with a challenging climb.

I rushed home from the office, hoping I had just enough time before sunset to go for a half-decent ride. My legs were sore from Saturday's race, and I awkwardly climbed aboard Paul Cyclemon and slowly began pedaling, hoping to work the kinks out and ride more smoothly after a quick warm up.

Things started feeling a little better a mile or two in. But I felt a general fatigue. I wondered if I should have taken the day off to rest a little more. But I was already out on the road and so I rode on.

I made it to my turn-around point and stopped to drink some water. The road goes on and on for many more miles. Many more steep miles. But those miles would have to wait for another day. This was enough for me for that one ride.

Something Felt Strange

I rushed home on Friday evening to try to take advantage of the last couple of hours of daylight. The half Ironman is now less than three weeks away and training has been particularly difficult to squeeze in in recent months because job and responsibility. And lazy. And tv.

My job has turned into a jealous mistress and every second I'm not in the office tending to its needs is a second I'll have to pay for dearly at a later time.

NOT THAT WE KNOW WHAT JEALOUS OR MISTRESS ARE, CATHIE.

But on Friday, I was determined to make it out the door in time to get a bike ride in while it was still light enough outside to be able to do so.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. The mailman had stuffed my mailbox with the entire neighborhood's worth of junk mail because of his very confusing vendetta against me.

Man on a Corner

I walk passed him every morning. He sits on the same downtown Salt Lake City corner. I think he might be schizophrenic. I'm not a doctor. I don't know. But something is clearly causing him to behave in odd ways. Sometimes he yells. Usually he's not yelling at anyone in particular. Most of the time the yelling doesn't seem to relate to anything happening around him. His yelling portrays him as astigmatic and disconnected.

His clothes look homemade. Like they used to be a part of something else. Like they weren't intended to be clothes until he got a hold of them. Curtains? Discarded fabric? A blanket? He's been wearing them for a while. I know this, because I pass him every morning.

He's homeless. And he's loud about it. If you make eye contact with him he tries to pull you in to whatever hallucination he's having. So I don't make eye contact with him. Not anymore. I used to. But it was too uncomfortable. Barely more uncomfortable than not making eye contact with him as he tries to talk to me when I pass by. Every morning.

That Old Couch

Several years ago I graduated from law school and moved to the BIG city with nothing but a dance belt and a tube of chapstick to call my own (please see Waiting For Guffman if you have not already). I had no furniture. None, whatsoever. And suddenly, I had an apartment that I needed to fill.

Unfortunately, I also had no money. I had spent my twenties sinking every penny I could get my hands on into education and traversing the couchsurfing world and now that I was done with school I had taken a government job in the state judiciary, which SPOILER ALERT did not pay me one million dollars.

Suddenly feeling the need to furnish my adulthood in one fell swoop felt incredibly daunting. I had moved to Salt Lake City with a law school friend, Matthew, who was in the same position as me and so the two of us went on a quest to find as much free furniture as possible to fill our 7th floor two-bedroom apartment on Broadway Ave.

We found this and that, here and there. Grandma furniture. Old lamps that needed to be taped up. Tea kettles, Venetian masks, and Snuggies. The usual things.

A Young Lawyer

I rolled into my house sometime late in the evening last night to get some rest. As usual, it took me three or four times longer than I anticipated to get ready for bed. No matter how tired I am and no matter how many or few distractions there are, it always somehow seems to take so much longer to get ready for bed.

I climbed under the covers, telling my Siri command to "wake me up in three hours." It responded, "your alarm is now set for three-thirty A.M."

Three-thirty. A.M.

I didn't really realize how ridiculous this schedule was until I heard the words come out of the i-phone. But I dozed off before I could dwell on it for too long.

I woke up before the alarm ever sounded. About an hour earlier than I had anticipated. And it was the kind of waking up that I knew was going to be long-lasting. I wouldn't fall asleep again. Not for a while, anyway. Too much running through my mind. Too much anxiety.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

You guys. Valentine's Day. It's not that I don't love that I'm Cathie's "NUMBER ONE VALENTINE XOXOXOXOXOXOXO" again. But this holiday just gets more and more annoying for me every year. And this one is particularly obnoxious. It is destroying a weekend!

I'm fine with Valentine's Day ruining a Monday. Tuesday or Wednesday? Fine. Thursday? Not ideal, but have at it. BUT WHY MUST IT DESTROY AN ENTIRE WEEKEND!?

Here. Have some Pictures and Distractions:

Burke was just sitting there and Ollie walked over and plopped down like this and I love him BECAUSE EVERYTHING THAT PUPPY DOES IS CUTE.

The Elevator Almost Killed Us

The other day I saw what Annie looks like when she thinks she's about to die. Annie is my close friend at work who I caught wearing a Ring Pop last week.

I asked her if she wanted to head down the street to grab a mid-morning treat. We hopped onto the elevator and began our descent.

Annie was regaling me with stories of her baby or some court hearing or something else. I wasn't really listening because I was distracted by her gnawing on the candy necklace hanging around her neck.

Then, suddenly, somewhere around the thirteenth floor, the power went out and the elevator came to a screeching halt. The lights were out and the elevator became so dark that you almost couldn't see the hand in front of your face.

And Annie Quinn Wilson, super mom, afraid of nothing, defender of the universe, SCREAMED.

Craft Lake City

A few years ago I happened to become friends with several different people who all run catering businesses on the side of whatever it is they do for their day jobs.

Note: I don't really know what anybody does for their day job. I mean, I could tell you where my friends work. I could tell you how long they've been there. I could even tell you what their job titles are in some cases. But I never have any clue what anyone actually does for a living. And, unfortunately, sometimes myself included.

Anna Swayne and my Polynesian friend Emma run food booths at various summer festivals under their little business "Island Hopper." They make unbelievably delicious Polynesian food that accounts for at least 85% of the reason that we are friends.