Only In Utah!

Skylar said it was "hot" and he was "sweaty" so that's why it was a good idea for him to take his shirt off and go sit on the furniture. I told him this wasn't my preferred choice for him, but he laughed it off like he always does when he doesn't want to argue anymore.

Strong plot. Sexual content. Twist ending. pic.twitter.com/5qQgeB62DD

— Eli McCann (@EliMcCann) September 23, 2020

We're in that weird time of year where the iceberg that sunk the Titanic floats down our street every night and then all the fires of hell descend upon us by 10:00 AM.  "Just open all the windows. It's September." I hear myself saying every year around this time, as though God has designated this month for consistent temperature control.

We open the windows, and we bake during the day and shiver in hypothermic misery all night. 

"September is the best. So pleasant. So lovely." I insist. 

I claim it's the one month that really is just right. In reality, it's the one month where I'm uncomfortable nearly all the time. 

Escape Room

Jolyn's birthday is next week so we decided to have a birthday thing for her. Skylar found what the kids are calling an Escape Room and signed up 8 of us basically without asking.

Do you guys know what an escape room is? Ever done one?

What it is is this place on the bad side of town, down an alley, up on the third floor of a half-abandoned office building. You feel like you are going to an appointment with your pediatrician in 1991. It even smelled like an appointment with my pediatrician. Interpret that as you will.

Then a guy with a Metallica shirt and black eye makeup comes out and tells you in a monotone voice that he's going to lock you in a room and you have 60 minutes to find four keys and the combination to get back out of the place. Just like my pediatrician.

Also, ours was Halloween themed or something so our room was pitch dark and he told us he had cameras in there and if he saw anyone pull out a phone for light we would be "punished" and considering that we were on the bad end of town I absolutely read a lot into the word choice and so resisted the urge to pull my phone out for the entirety of the time.

Weirdest Birthday Party Ever

It was my birthday last week ("oh em gee eli no way you look so young you never age!" stop it you guys).

I was informed by friends that they would be giving me a birthday party at Matt's house on Saturday. I was excited about this, assuming that there would be balloons and cake and several clowns. You know. Normal adult birthday party stuff.

I knew something was strange when Skylar picked me up and started driving me to Matt's house because he seemed very pressed for time. And Skylar is never concerned about the time. Not even when he needs to fly somewhere and he's like "can you take me to the airport?" and I'm like, "sure, when does your flight leave?" and he's like "20 minutes ago" and I'm like "WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAVE FOR THE AIRPORT 2 HOURS AGO?!" and he's like "I'm sure I'll make it" and then he tries to get me to take the scenic route to get there.

My suspicions that something strange was happening were confirmed when we arrived at Matt's house.

The curtains were all pulled shut. The house was dark. We walked in and I saw these things:

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

I'm going to choose this one time to say a word that I literally never say beause I feel like it's appropriate: y'all, I'm exhuasted.

I PROMISE NEVER TO SAY Y'ALL AGAIN.

What a week/month/year. As I sit in my office this Thursday evening, watching the flecks of snow drift down to the ant-like cars below, I'm full of nostalgia and just a little bit of longing for a time when life was slightly simpler, gratitude for the richness of the complexities that make it not so simple anymore, and optimistic that all is well, or at least will be, whatever that means.

Thanks for your amazing support lately--even the support you didn't really realize you were giving. You Strangers make my world go around. Sometimes that's weird, sometimes it's lovely, but always it's entertaining.

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

Christmasing with Matthew and Skylar.

Halloween Costumes

I love Halloween like a fat kid loves cake. And when I was a child I was actually pretty creative when it came to Halloween costumes. I got this gene from Cathie, who I swear to you made Crayola Crayon Halloween costumes for me and each of my three sisters in 1989 and had us march up and down the street together like a box of crayons.

I was blue. My sisters were purple, pink, and orange. Cathie had the foresight not to make a "white" crayon costume and then have all of the neighbors wonder why one of the McCann kids was allowed to dress as a Klansman for Halloween.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

I'm about to get on a red eye flight to NYC (prayers be with me). Matt has spent his evening wandering the valley with me collecting IKEA furniture and then putting it together in my basement (for IKEA furniture is the only furniture I can get down my 1925-era hole-in-the-wall staircase). He also forced me to participate in a family photo-shoot, for which we actually dressed up and posed in front of a professional photographer. I'm now feeding him caffeine to keep him awake so he can give me a ride to the airport. Mr. Pants is digging food out of my garbage can. I'm too tired to stop him.

Also, Rebecca just called me to tell me some absurd thing, probably about her fake gluten allergy. In the middle of the conversation she happened to disclose that she is currently in New York City (for reasons unknown). I told her I was about to catch a flight to her city and she insisted in her excited high-pitched Rebecca voice that we will be spending the morning together.

My life feels weird right now.

And now, your Pictures and Distractions:

Mr. Pants made a new friend! Meet Gunner.

Jodi

Last week was John Michael's birthday so we decided to throw him a Halloween-themed birthday party at my house because I refuse to treat any of my 30-something-year-old friends like they are any older than 9.

I decided it would need to be a small intimate gathering and quickly invited Matt and Wade. John Michael moved to Salt Lake City earlier this year from some place in the south where they give everyone two first names and legally require you to call them by BOTH names even though the rest of us get by just fine with only one. Because he's newish in town, he's still assimilating and getting to know people.

I know that he's made various friends while living in SLC, but I don't really know any of them.  Matt and Wade were really the only two people I knew John Michael knew and so they were the only two people I knew to invite to his birthday party.

I was having some birthday party planning anxiety leading up to the big day because who has ever heard of a good birthday party with only four people. But I didn't want to invite people John Michael didn't know because that seemed inappropriate too.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

Happy weekend, one and all. I'm lying on the floor. Eating candy.

And now, your Pictures and Distractions:

The dining room in my old house is ever coming together.

Keys on Main

Every time I hang out with my friend John Michael I end up in an odd situation that takes a surprising amount of time to exit. Friday was no exception.

I had gone over to his house mid-evening. He was watching a football game. I nearly died of boredom the moment I arrived. Because sports. And so after an excessive amount of complaining, the sports were turned off and we ventured on to Main Street to a place called Keys on Main.

Keys on Main is a piano bar that just happens to be one of our favorite spots in Salt Lake City because for some reason the moment we walk through those doors the filters that normally stop us from engaging in embarrassing behavior completely shut down.

I'm not sure exactly why this is. I think it must be partly because we never ever see anyone there we know. The place is usually full of bachlorette parties and groups of people who came in from the suburbs for their semi-annual night on the town. The people who live among us, our neighbors, don't go to the piano bar. I'm not sure what my neighbors are doing instead of going to the piano bar because they apparently don't invite us to their things. But they are definitely not at Keys on Main.