Monthly Archives: January 2009

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Regression

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Only I would find the way to be a worse skier after all this skiing. The last few days have been murder. Not only are my knees all jacked up and my legs all wobbly, but I’m straight up embarrassing myself with my company. I mean, I knew I’d most likely be the worse of anyone that came to visit, and they’re here for the snow, not for me, but man. I could get down anything last week – I was doing blacks! Now, I’m about ready to head back the the bunny slopes and relearn the snow plow. It’s like something broke and I’m not smart enough to fix it.

I hope it’s just exhaustion. I hope I’m going to be fine. This week was more days skiing than ever total before in my life, I hope that’s the problem. But taking yesterday off wasn’t enough. I got out there and had another horrible morning, didtching WB and MK to enjoy the day while I wobbled home. To blog to you about my inability. Thanks for letting me vent. Now if only you could correct my form.

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Ten Year Anniversary

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2009 got me thinking. It’s officially been ten years now that I’ve been trying to not be retarded. Let me explain…

Once upon a time, in 1999, I was at the end of a rope. I hated everything in the world. I hadn’t had all that much fun in high school. I’m sure everyone has their own nightmare stories, but I had a consistently rough time from the moment I showed up until right when I said goodbye. It was so awful I graduated early to run away from the problems I had no idea how to overcome.

To be fair, I had been an unpopular brainy dork with glasses and braces and only good intentions since middle school. And there were so many things that happened to me I still don’t understand the reasons for. Friends becoming enemies, people hurting me, all that drama. I thought high school in a new town would save me. It was just as bad. There were a lot of things I did wrong myself (boys! band! student council!?!?!) so I blame myself a bit.

But after the dumbest guidance counselor ever telling me that “high school was the best and most important time of my life, I should get better at it” I decided to leave. Thanks to my parents realizing how miserable I was, and an aunt that thought I’d be good – I went to Texas.

Everyone also has that eye opening college experience, but this is my story so be nice. Moving to a new place, meeting new people, getting to be who I wanted made me so excited. I think I flourished. I met great people, had great roommates, experienced what life was like without people hurting me. And I don’t think it takes a college degree to figure out that was what I was looking for. I worked hard. I am a louder, wackier person now, but I’m me and my friends like me for being just that me. I feel so loved. I kept those friends, made new ones. I grew up, and I turned out okay. And to be sure, high school was not the most important time of my life. I’ve come a long way since then. It only took ten years to figure out the problem wasn’t me.

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Deer Valley Torchlight Parade

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It was super cute but also super hard to photograph. Here’s the best we could do: (click to enlarge)

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Letting Yourself Go

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Chances are no one that likes you has ever accused you of letting yourself go. We typically think of it as someone that stops things like, well, personal hygiene.

But I let myself go all the time. To me there are a lot of meanings to the phrase, and I like most of them. In San Diego we were letting ourselves go by really trying new things, going new places, taking on great adventures, reaching out to make new friends.

Here and now, I’m really letting myself go. And I love it. Pedi/manis are on the edge of my tub. I eat whatever I want, minus when someone makes that totally horrified “Are you serious?” face. The skiing must be helping, I haven’t gained any weight. No one dies if the dishes don’t get done (someone should have let me know that years ago). I’ve let go of the stress of family, of friends, of fear. I honestly let go each time I come down part of that mountain. That’s one of my favorite feelings. I’m not having heart attacks about company coming, I’m joyfully calm.

So my New Year’s resolution is more letting myself go. I’ll wash my hair for you, but I’m not promising to worry or stress about anything. I’ve done that enough for a lifetime. I’m going to find my joy or center or passion or whatever word you want for that feeling that things are just good.

Happy New Year, may you all let yourselves go.