Cafe Rio Rebellion

Today my family and I went to Cafe Rio for dinner. I was in line, waiting, dreaming of the pork salad with black (not pinto) beans, everything on it, and the creamy dressing. We shuffled our way through the efficient line and it was almost my turn. I glanced at the menu, but I didn't need it. Something new caught my eye. On the wall was a new plaque with the manager's suggestion: The Pork Burrito. It was rated the best burrito of 2007 apparently. The manager had even signed the plaque. I thought it was a nice gesture for newbies who didn't know what to get on their first Cafe Rio experience.

But then suddenly, out of nowhere, a sudden idea hit my brain that maybe I would get the pork burrito. But I always get the pork salad-- black beans, everything on it, creamy dressing. How could I switch over? I'd never even been tempted to switch over. I love the salad. I live for the salad. Could I imagine cutting up pieces of solid burrito with a knife and fork and putting them in my mouth? Would I be okay without the creamy dressing? Where did this completely rebel thought come from? Ever since that day, several years ago when Miss Jamie Myers introduced me to the pork salad I have never once strayed.

Then it was my turn.

"Can I help you?"

And with a resoluteness I didn't know was in me, I said, "Yes, I'll have the pork burrito." I was stunned but also on some kind of high that only this type of rebellion can produce.

"Black beans," I continued.

"Mild sauce."

"Would you like that enchilada style?"

I didn't even know. But without hesitation I said, "Yes, yes I would." And that is how it happened. My first Cafe Rio Burrito. And I absolutely loved it.

Pre-Fab Gingerbread

With school and TAing I just didn't have the time or inclination this year to go through even the work of getting a graham cracker gingerbread house together. So instead I brought a pre-fab house at Wal-Mart. While we still had fun decorating it, I do need to point out that the workers in Canada (according to the box) need to put a little more effort into their prefabricating efforts. The contents of the package didn't quite match the pictures on the box. Our roof was slanted and the two side walls were caved in a bit. Also the pine bough gummy candies pictured were nothing like the large mint leaf-like candies we received. But we made do. The gum drops on our roof slant out at what I would call a very modern, avant-garde angle, and the mint leaf bushes are reminiscent of the gift of a coming spring. Or whatever.

Good Place/ Bad Place

Good place to leave your keys overnight:

Bad place to leave your keys overnight:

Post-Thanksgivingism

Leave your camera sitting around at my house, and you might be surprised at what you end up with when you go through your photos. One of my gifted siblings (I have yet to identify the culprit, but I have my suspiscions, Ari!) took these unusual Post-Thanksgiving dinner shots. I thought I might as well share.

Fun Times.. up North?!

Wow! I'm still not used to having St. George and Las Vegas be "up north"! Nevertheless, I spent a great weekend there! Some friends and I went to the Christmas concert at Tuachan with Peter Breinholt, Ryan Shupe and Sam Payne. It was great, and although a little nippy, still such a beautiful venue. Nothing like Christmas music in a red rock canyon. (If you are further up north, you can catch Peter Breinholt at another Christmas concert in SLC on the 20th and 22nd.)

We took a peek at the St. George Temple and vistors center, and we also got to spend a little time in Vegas. Good times!

Who's Taller Now?!

Over Thanksgiving my sister declared, as we worked in the kitchen, "Shiloh! You shrunk!". This being virtually impossible I denied the allegation.

There has been a constant battle over who is taller between us for years. I have always won by a fraction of an inch-- not much, sure, but still, it makes me the taller sister. Coming from a family where mom is 5'0" and grandma is 5'1" we both feel quite lucky to have made 5'4". It just happens that I am more like 5 feet 4 and 1/4 inches. Sorry Arianne!

But at Thanksgiving, in a last pitiful attempt to win out on the tallest-sister family title, Ari went with the "you shrunk" allegation to have a remeasure. And so a remeasure was had. Tim was named the judge. We stood back to back-- but it was too close. So Tim got out a yard stick. Still too close he said. So, in true male fashion, he broke out the level. He declared Ari to be slightly taller. My mom took a picture though, and so I appeal to the photographic evidence to prove my case and defend my title. I believe that you, too, will see it proves that I am still the tallest sister! Long live the tallest of the short people!