ConSynPro

Soon I was flying to SLC, there catching the shuttle up the canyon to Park City at night. This de-railed part of the itinerary ended up being productive, as I fiended on the wireless connection in the loft, telecommuting away and catching up on work after a long period of spotty access. Also, my good luck - it was the time of the Olympics, and my Dad’s TV-friendly house featured full coverage of the Games. Eventually the Olympic spirit got to me, equating to mixed feelings from the futility and fleetingness of life, to the motivation to give my best to compete at the highest level possible. Just by chance, the unofficial Sundance in the Summer BBQ party was on in Salt Lake, so I borrowed the convertible and drove down the canyon into the city, arriving at the residential neighborhood just in time for the kebabs off the barbecue, a tour of the new house and garden, a pass by the hors d’ouvres table, and the selection of beer pong teams. A fine time became even better when we headed in to the entertainment room for some Rock Band shenanigans. I represented as Vori, the addled six foot goth drummer chick. I took up the hosts on the offer to crash overnight in the guest room. No buzzed driving; and, after sneaking out in the morning to find the convertible lightly dewed by the overshot lawn sprinkler, I drove up to find the road construction on Parley’s Summit still under-way; halfway through the ascent I was returned in a loop all the way back to the valley floor, blocked in Salt Lake until late afternoon. Being a Sunday, I called everyone on the phone, chatting with family and friends, popping into a cafe, store outlets, an organic grocery store, and spent several sessions on the computer at the Sugarhouse library branch. To round out the wait, I went in for food at the old cafe with the mural inside, then finally making my way back up to the newly-opened freeway, winding back up the canyon to the shelter of base camp, Utah.