Day 1: Getting Oriented

          I hopped off my bike in front of the bike corral on the south east corner of the State Fair grounds. 

          An elderly gentleman, wearing the blue State Fair Employee t-shirt gave me a collection ticket and asked me where I had biked from this morning.

          "Brooklyn Park," I told him proudly.
          "That's a long way!" he exclaimed.

           I assented, saying nonchalantly, "Maybe, I don't know, sixteen miles or something." I shrug as if to say, No big deal.

           Inside I am thinking, That's right. I 'Kick Gas.' 

           "Well, it's a great way to start the day," we both agreed. And it certainly was. After a leisurely ride along the Mississippi River, I was in full spirits, ready to make the world's best hotdog and get down to the business of squeezing every moment possible out of the fair experience.

           After depositing my bike, I walked inside the gates, picked up an informational pamphlet or two and sat down at a bench. 

           What should I do today? I asked myself and began to peruse my options. There was the Pet Center, showing Siberian Huskys, Local Foods Cooking Demonstrations in the Eco Experience, free samples from the Moo Sample Station, The Johnson Family Band playing at the DNR stage. There were the LOADS of freebies, 'sign-up to win' locations and daily deals. There were tours, art exhibits and 4-H Demonstrations. In short, I realized that there were a PLETHORA of potential activities at the State Fair. Even though I had twelve days, I would still not be able to check out everything. Which meant, I would have to...make decisions.

I panicked. The nerd in me cried out with this quote: "There's...too many of them!"

A translation for the non-nerds = me at this moment: overwhelmed

      
          I decided to go to work. This was a good decision, since my shift was about to start. 

Me whilst working at Chicago Dogs: having a rollicking good time 

Come visit Elf and me at Chicago Dogs!

          Not only was it no problem for me to figure out how to put the hotdogs together, I positively reveled in it. I took personal pride in how the onions lay against the coney sauce on the coney dogs, how the sport peppers stood aside the cucumbers.

          When one customer complimented, "Now, that is a work of art!"  

          I wanted to reply, "You better believe it baby!"

          I wanted to make more hotdogs. As fairgoers passed by I tried to send out telepathic vibes that said, Come buy Chicago dogs! It will change your life!

  
OK...

...so I didn't claim, even telepathically, that a Chicago dog would change anybody's life. But I did genuinely want more people to come and ask for hotdogs. I was having a fun time putting them together, and when I was busy making them, the minutes just flew by.

          Before I knew it, my shift was finished.

          Now what?

          I decided, instead of spending my first day trying to create and follow some sort of detailed plan for how I was going to spend my entire twelve days at the fair, I would just wander around and orient myself. So, for the next hour and a half, I walked around, chatting with a few other fairgoers about an arctic tent on display, discussing the merits of Minnesota made Chicago Dogs with a dog-whisperer from Chicago (he should know, I mean, really), and signing up to win a year's worth of free groceries in the Dairy Barn just because a nice girl working for the Midwest Dairy Industry Association told me I should friend them on Facebook. Also, I would not refuse a year's worth of free groceries. Or any free groceries, to be perfectly honest.

          As I was exploring, I came up with a plan. Sort of. It is more like a general guideline that I shall use to shape the next eleven days.

          And I will tell you about it. 

          Tomorrow.

          Unless I change my mind.