Updates, schmupdates

It has been really great to be back from Utah. My slow recovery from acute culture shock aside, things have been going well. I got a job at the Daily Clog, whose measly pay will provide me with this semester's caffeinated indulgences. Kyle is convinced I don't know how to get a job that pays me well. Still working for the Department of Theater, Dance, and Performance Studies, but also stage managing a show, which will certainly change things up a bit.

But what I'm sure you all are waiting for is how the summer went. Avid readers know that I was stuck for three months working in marketing and box office for an opera company in northern Utah, where I was paid about $1000 to work 9-12 hours a day, 6 days a week. I was pleasant and helpful to the 3,000+ people to whom I sold seats, which totaled over $75,000 in ticket sales. Bragging aside, I found it exceedingly difficult to be patient and kind with elderly people who have been attending for many years who still do not know that we do not, have not, and will not offer a senior discount.

The entire experience was sort of like an anthropological or ethnographic (Pop quiz: and can someone identify the difference?) experiment. My brief stint as a Catholic in my early years (namely, that I was baptized) served as one of my only playing cards in casual conversation with coworkers and locals. My knee-length skirts were gawked at by more conservatively-dressed women and honked at by truck-driving men; tank tops were frowned upon, sleeveless shirts questionable; the coffee shop was my only safe haven.

Caffe Ibis is lovely. It reminds me of several coffee shops around the Bay Area and Sonoma County (think Aroma Roasters, Coffee Catz, Ritual), but since it's so sparsely populated by heathens who drink coffee, the employees have more time for conversation and making me whatever they please.

There is little to no interpersonal conflict in Utah, at all. A lot of passive aggression, a lot of gossip, but no argument.

The living situation was fascinating. 50-60 people from all different parts of the country living in the same apartment complex about one and a half miles from work. The parties were outrageous, the cops even more outrageous (half the force takes pictures with the crew, the other half belligerently breaks up the parties), and the crazy youngsters could not keep their pants on. Maybe it was my terrible bed or the guys that make Berkeley EECS boys look hot, but Marvin Gaye just wasn't doing it for me.

The nature, however, was gorgeous. Whenever I could, which wasn't especially often, I'd tolerate folks I could hitch a ride with into the canyons or up to Bear Lake, like my parents, who came to visit.

All in all, I'm glad to be back. Back from one of the world's largest per capita consumers of Jello and Kraft products, back from a highly concentrated demography of the world's richest and fastest growing religion's followers, back to my comfy bed and gay roommates and social and genetic diversity.