Postmodernism: cheap trick or brilliant twist?

My friend Brittany and I were on campus the other night for an ASU actors performance of "The Death and Life of Sherlock Holmes". The play was B quality. The actors were earnest in their impassioned readings, the bendable set was absolutely incredible with the ability to create hidden platforms and rooms, the use of screens was innovative to create mood and ghost effects, and the ingenious lightening was utilized for displaying snakes and trains and characters running as well signals to the audience (by way of projected architecture) of new locations.

The script though was convoluted at best. It took pieces from "The Adventure of the Speckled Band", "The Adventures of the Dancing Men", and allusions to another story involving psychics and gypsies. I read every single Sherlock Holmes story when I was a kid and ate up the sense of mystery and whodunit with a sense of wonder like most people who've read the collections. But that's just it. I've read the Sir Conan Doyle stories so I knew what the hell was going on with the bell rope, the snake, the hat box, and the dancing men code. Well, I was sort of able to follow. When they kept blending the story together and dancing men were part of the snake story I was thoroughly confused, as was Brittany judging by the way we'd turn to each other every now and then with a "wtf?" look on our face.

[spoilers ahead] I was ready to write the play off as a mildly forgettable but fun piece of entertainment for a Thursday night until that last 10 minutes of it. The villain of the play had been the depressed homebody psychic dad that was later revealed to be the eye-patched gypsy lord. This caused Brittany and I scratch our heads in confusion for a time until it was revealed that the mastermind of the whole scheme was actually Professor Moriarty. That is, until the professor took off his hat and showed the audience (by way of red hair and thick Irish accent) that he was actually the dad, the gypsy lord, and the professor.  Well, until the brilliant and redeeming postmodern twist was revealed. [more spoilers ahead]

La Bocca

"This is the best mojito I've ever had," B----- said after sipping the La Bocca Fizz Mojito at La Bocca Urban Pizza on Mill Ave. B---- is not one to give out hyperboles easily and a few minutes later I reached out to the beautiful mint and iced drink to try it for myself. And I have to say: he's right. But more on that later.

Were together on that warm Saturday night April 17th right when it starts getting dark in the desert. We were meeting Sarah and Alan, D---- and A----- for dinner before my birthday party at Sarah and I's apartment and La Bocca was nothing but the perfect choice.

La Bocca is a staple of Mill Ave if you're ever in Tempe. It's an urban pizza joint, which means lots of rich colors, fancy mixing with funky furniture and artwork and plenty of wine next to rustic looking pizza pies. There are plenty of little candles to light up the bold red and green interior and retro paintings, and with techno infused jazz music in the background giving it a hip feel to the place. I've been to La Bocca for several occasions: out to lunch with Sarah, D----'s first legal drink on her birthday for lunch, Valentine's Day with B----, and Saturday night our first triple date birthday dinner.

B----- and I arrived early, with me in an orange and white dress and white strappy wedges and him in his fitted white suit shirt rolled to the elbows with dark wash jeans and white flashy shoes. Simply put: we were lookin' good, haha. We arrived first and ordered the Mediterranean appetizer with a mojito for him and a water for me. For the record, any restaurant that serves water with a slice of cucumber instead of a slice of lemon automatically wins an A in my book. I've been noticing this more and more in the area lately. Is this an new Arizona thing?

Domin-NOs

This is my review for Domino's pizza for my Eng 474 Review Class. Judging by the title, I'm sure you can figure out my opinion.

Domin-NO’s

It’s past midnight on a Wednesday night and you’re so starving that the words on the page are getting blurry. You walk to the kitchen to find in a rage that your college roommate ate the last of your ramen and you’re so upset you could throw your 4.5 pound Lit Theory book out of your 3rd floor window.

You quickly think what fast hot meals are available this late for an under-21 year-old with no car. Obviously you can’t get into a bar/restaurant so there’s Ihop, which takes too long, Safeway, but who cooks anymore? and both Taco Bell and In-N-Out are drive-through only at this hour. So what’s left? The answer: Domino’s Pizza.

For the past 3 years of living in Arizona whenever I’ve been severely hungry I have thought of Domino’s food as “yummy breadsticks”, “tasty crust”, and “good pizza”, and then an hour after digesting, “nauseous sticks”, “heartburn hearty crust”, and “puky pizza”. No, Domino’s and I have not had a friendly relationship. However, when I saw their new advertisements offers news of an updated version of their pizza I decided to give them another go.

A little past 1am on a Wednesday night I find myself in front of the Domino’s on ----Blvd…Domino’s is not hard to spot, with its lit up red and blue plastic colors I haven’t seen anywhere else but a childhood crayon box.

As I walk in I’m surprised how alert and friendly the 4 or 5 college-age guys are who are working this late shift. After I order and am assured that it will be ready in “definitely less than 10 minutes” I ask the guy at the counter how exactly he is able to be this spunky this late. He tells me with a shrug he says that he manages it someway, somehow. To me, they’re all awake, chipper, and an excellent first impression of Domino’s new image.

Domino’s is a take-out pizza place but this Domino’s in the courtyard has the benefit of several tables in front of it. I sit at one of them as I wait for my order and spy the nightlife of the other hungry college students.

The last pay phone in America

A few weeks ago I was walking around the ASU Tempe campus when I spotted this pay phone. I think I might have literally done a double-take since I had thought that pay phones had left with the 90s along with the giga pets and dial tone.

I've walked that stretch of space (close to the fountain, near the Farmer building) hundreds of times and yet I had never noticed it. Then again it seems like I'm always running 3 minutes late to any class in that building so it's possibly that I'm too busy speed walking to class with homework in hand to ever look of the scenery. Anyway I began to nickname it "the last pay phone in America" in my head each time I passed it and inevitably forgot to tell anyone about it once it was out of eyesight.

So imagine my surprise when a week or so after my little discovery that I heard the tail-end of a conversation where a guy was looking for a pay phone and was nearly laughed at by the people he was asking. I knew I had to prove to someone that they still exist so I took a friend of mine one day to check it out. It's out of service by the way, though you can still hear the metal sound a key makes in the earpiece. Pleased by my adventure I began to leave campus when I spotted another one near the Discovery Building! Are they secretly everywhere? Why haven't I noticed this before? Has anyone else?

So if you spot a pay phone anywhere on the Tempe campus or around your area let me know. I'm on a hunt to find as many as possible before the end of the semester.

Welcome, peeps!

Hello there!

Welcome to Ink Blots and Flip-Flops, my little writing space for musings about my final year of college (and post-diploma) while enjoying traveling, lit, and relationships in cute flip-flops and a college budget. Should be a good time!

-Jennifer