The Subaru Journey Day Five- Laramie, Wyoming Part Six
I love it here in Laramie. I could see myself living here one day. But tomorrow morning, I'll be making my way to Salt Lake City. And I am very excited to go there. In a couple of years, I do want to apply to Utah University's creative writing graduate program. And it's really only because my creative writing professor in one of my very last creative writing classes at Ohio University went there. In nine weeks he changed how I viewed writing, but still gave me such freedom with it. I think I ended up writing one of the best things I've written to do date. And it's a short story no less and not in the "I" form. Those things never happen for me.
So this morning I woke up early enough and Scott didn't have class until 10:30am. That left Scott and I plenty of time to make homemade soy milk! Making soy milk is super easy and I owe it all to Art Trese for finding it valuable enough to teach during Alternative Agriculture. I had soaked the soybeans that I gotten from Big Hollow Co-op the day before overnight so they were ready and waiting! Like I said making soy milk is super easy and only involves four steps. Here they are:
Liquefy soybeans in a blender. Be sure to add new water above the soybean line and don't use the water you used to soak the soybeans in. IT WILL TASTE BAD!
Strains the soybeans, through cheesecloth (or other porous cloth), strainer and into a bigger bowl. What you are squeezing is the whey that the soybean skin leaves behind. Save it for another blend or two, of course with new water or save it and add it to a stir-fry. The whey will take on whatever flavor you add to it. Hooray sustainable food!
And what you have just made is raw soy milk. And if it's your first time drinking raw soy milk, you'll probably end up spitting it out. I did. So just try a small sip. Or just make one glass before making Manson size jars full. But the taste grew on me. I was trying all these different ways to make it taste better. So I guess there is a step 5. Add sugar. . .molasses. . .cinnamon. . .vanilla. . .to thicken and sweeten the raw soy milk. With that, it can hopefully grow on your too! And wouldn't you know it, Scott wasn't much of a fan, but I didn't make a whole lot to begin with. Soon after Scoot and roommates left to start their day. Once again, I stayed behind and played catch-up with my tumblr.
Now, what I'm about to type and share is something that I don't want readers taking an offense too. Let's get it straight. I am an outsider. I have come to Laramie to couch surf my way to California. I mean no harm whatever-so-ever to the town of Laramie or it's people. I am not Moises Kaufman. I just want to learn and observe and take note. Interrupting is your job. With all that said, I did one of the most extraordinary things I could think of to do in Laramie. I went searching for the road in which Matthew Shephard was found murdered. I have come to realize now, that I did not find the true road. I was one road off (I think), but none-the-less, I was in the immediate area. You can see those pictures here.
I did not by any means spend an absorbatent amount of time there. It was a residential neighborhood after all and I was driving my 95 Subaru with Illinois license plates. Not to mention my car is packed to the rear-view mirror with my stuff. I didn't tell my couch surfing host or his roommates what I would doing that day. I didn't want to offend them either. On the most basic human level, I just think the town will be in a perpetual state of healing. Laramie is just in the spotlight. Even ten years later. And there will always be people, like me, who just have the opportunity to be a part of something larger than themselves. I didn't have time to breathe. I left soon enough.
It was during this time that an old friend called. It was Leean. Leean is from Cheyenne, Wyoming. Leean was also around when Matthew Shephard was murdered. The story touches her intrinsically. She put in a good word for me with the school of theater at Wyoming University. I made my way to the fine arts building. Parking was easy enough. I ended up paying .50 cents more, because I didn't know how the parking ticket giving thing worked. There were no directions, just arrows pointing to "Less" "More." I figured if I put in a dollar it would be give me that amount of time. Not so much.
I made my way to where children where and started walking. And then I kept finally. Finally I asked for directions. The fine arts building was on the other side of campus. Oy. And boy did I get stared at! I have no idea why. I kind of thought I blended in, literally. I was wearing beige colors pants with a white top. Bland. Maybe it's my hair. Go figure that one. Or my purse, but it's probably my Mexican skin. Hah!
I found the theater building and started to get giddy. I wanted to get a real tour, but it wasn't in the cards. And no acting classes were happening either. Out of luck again. So I just started to walk into open doors. I pretend I was a graduate student looking to transfer or apply. I found the Make-up room, dressing rooms, costume storage and even the actors green room type place. Lots of things were older and brown. Ohio University does have a much nicer package going on. Although, I dare say, the fine arts are more cohesive, because they share such a smaller space. And not to mention Wyoming University is a musical theater program. Ohio University is not. No matter how hard Lee tries. I would have taken many more photos of everything, especially the main stage, but lights were being hung. And although no really asked me what I was doing, you could feel everyone watching you. I would have done it too, so I didn't it personally. I can't remember what production they were hanging lights for, but man did it look so much easier. There rail line had all the outlets already there. All you had to do was plug in the unit to the outlet cable. Talk about lo-impact. Then again, I guess the down side is not being able to put a unit wherever the heck you feel like it. Cabling just looked so much easier. Even though I still had a decent amount of time left on my parking ticket, I decided to head out. I didn't know where to go though. So I just started driving again.
As I was driving though, I saw a huge flag for a farmers market. Naturally, I pulled over. The sign said 'Farmers Market 1-8pm' It was close to 2:20 now and people were still setting up. Someones memo was incorrect. I waited on a bench with a lady and her dog. Her husband joined later. Once I felt that most of the booths were ready, I started walking around. I ended up buying a loaf of Asiago bread for $6 and a package of beef jerky for $5. I think I overpaid or overpriced beef jerky. But what can you do? I guess I feel good for helping out local farmers. I would end up later nearly demolishing that bread at dinner with Scott. I had meant to save it for my road trip to Salt Lake. Oh well.
After I came home from the farmers market I came back to Scott's place. He was home and we were waiting for his friend to get off of work so that we could all go climbing. Well, I was going to go hiking, but everyone else was going to go to climbing. To fill the time, Scott put in one of Led Zeppelins concerts. It was really sp00ky. And it got me thinking about the past again. I could see why Robert Plant inspired this someone.
But we were off to climb and hike! I met Shane and Allison. They were both climbers. The drive to the climbing spot was beautiful. It was that same view I ended up missing out on due to it being nighttime. And man was it worth it to see it in the daylight. Even more breathtaking. Perhaps just another notch in why I love Laramie so much. I would have taken pictures along the way too, but didn't want to appear too touristy. Plus, I was enjoy myself. Just being. I knew that this was going to be, maybe, once in a lifetime. Just relax for once.
We made it to the climb place. I followed for most of the way and then broke off in my own direction. I never strayed from their site though. I've never really gone hiking by myself before, let alone gone by myself in another state to a hiking place that I've never been. You get it. So I just derped and did my best climbing all these huge boulders. My hands ate it though. They felt like fire at some points and were even a little bit red. Definitely wasn't prepared to do such an epic hike, even though I was dressed to the nine's like I was going to. We were only there for a couple of hours, but the temperature had dropped a lot and I was falling asleep on the rocks. Not a good sign. I had left my water bottle at Gretchen's the night before and it just worked out that I couldn't get it till after climbing. Not the smartest move I've made this whole trip.
Can you tell I'm getting sleeping? Details are flying away! I apologize.
After climbing it was another beautiful drive back into town. Scott and I retrieved my water bottle and went home to make some dinner. But then we found out we didn't really have anything to make. So we found and decided that we should eat the rest of the leftover pasta from last nights fest. Definitely not as good the second time around. After dinner, Scott and I made our way to a bar, I think, called the Alibi. Kind of a cute name if you ask me! The cover was ridiculously. It was $7. I've never paid that much for a cover before. Not even in Athens. Not even at Casa-- which is always on the higher end of covers, but never $7 bucks. I had to use the ATM and ended up being charged the $2.75 fee. I don't think Chase bank exists in Laramie, Wyoming. With that fee, it ended up being a $13.75 night. I also awarded myself a nice glass of wine for $5. I was a happy camper. The bartenders there though, I didn't care for. I thought they were kind of rude. And I've noticed this about employees or any sort. I really dislike hearing people talk about a patron or customer that just left on bad terms. Like hello. People can hear you. Stay professional and talk shit behind closed doors. I think it makes you look tacky. Then again, it's a bar. Bar culture. I still don't like it.
Once I finished my wine Allison and I made our way to the dance floor. I was dancing like I always had been At Casa, at the Union, with my Illinois boys. I was dancing like a fool. Can't allow anyone's gazes to deter you just from dancing. Scott and I danced up a storm together too. He ended up being a pretty decent leader. He did though knock my knees and head a couple of times, but it was still a pretty fun time. Then all of sudden, the music stops and the singer gestures to entrance of the bar (mind you, we were outside pretty much the entire time). We were in fact at an outdoor concert. What comes through that door is just a percentage of the Marching 110. But it's not really the 110, because that's an Ohio thing. But it was the Wyoming University's marching band breaking it down. Although I have to say that their fight call kind of sounds like a monkey with the "OOs" and "AAhs!" It was really Wyoming pride based. They have a football game tomorrow. It's a pretty big deal for these folks. So they played and left. Scott and I continued to dance and take breaks.
And now, I'm on Scott's couch, ready for bed, ready to crash. So I sit here still typing up this update when there is insane knocking on the door. One of Scotts roommates friends is drunk and at the door. She was with a guy who asked if we knew each other. I was honest and said that we didn't. But he still let the girl come inside and turn the corner into Scotts roommates room. I just didn't want Scott to wake up and think I had just allowed this to happen somehow. She seems to have simmered down though. As for me, I'm headed to bed. Salt Lake City in the morning, baby!
It's been real Laramie. So freaking real.
