There are times when you go to hike Hanging Lake. Hanging Lake was a big lake when a big old seismic shift happened, and half the lake dropped down a bunch, leaving the top half hanging. During the summer, this lake gushes down to the lower half, but in the winter, it's frozen over in intense prettiness.
I first hiked up there about eight years ago, in two feet of snow, cursing and sliding the entire way to the top to see the massive beauty. Today, with much less snow on the ground, I decided to hike it again. It's a mile hike, mostly straight up. Things were fine until the ice appeared about halfway up. I continued on, stepping carefully. And then, I slipped. I fell and landed on my wrist. And, on top of that, my pants ripped. I now had half a pair of daisy dukes and a half mile of upwardness to go. Sigh.
I tied my sweater around my waist, noticed my wrist was getting cranky, and continued on upwards. I hoisted up on local trees, carefully stepped on rocks, and continued on for another quarter mile. Until. I was faced with a hill of ice. My first step up involved a slip, a fall onto my other wrist, and sliding back down. I looked for alternatives, but all were slippy. After a few minutes, it was time to give up and I started back down the trail.
At points, I and my semi-daisy dukes did the little kid scoot action down especially slidy spots, where you sit down and let gravity pull you down the hill. By the time I reached the bottom, I had rocks in my shoes, two cranky wrists, and a very damp bottom. I headed straight to the big, big hot springs, soaked my various bits for several hours, and then had dinner with a well-deserved beer.
Although I didn't reach the top of the trail, I now have half a sexy pair of shorts and I can feel my knees and leg muscles gearing up for a big old scream session tomorrow in spite of hours in hot springs. And that's how I spent my New Years' vacation: bottom scooting down a mountain. Colorado!
An Erinku:
rocking out
my old flannel
again
woo-hoo 90's revival!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Merry You-Know-What
Yesterday, while my dentist trip was going downhill very fast, I was listening to the radio station they had playing. The dj had wished "happy holidays" and wondered aloud how many folks said that. In came a flood of calls for and against it. One person was super scary and going down a pretty nasty path with name-callings and whatnot before he got cut off. It is a topic, it seems.
While the dentist drilled away, I started wondering about why I say "merry holidays" to folks. And...it's because I'm lazy. Even when I was little, instead of saying "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!" (which are two separate holidays very close together), I'd just say "Merry Holidays!" or "Happy New Christmas!"
Now that my circle of folks has expanded, I can either say "Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Happy Solstice! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy New Year (of many different types)!" among other good wishes, or I can continue to be lazy and say "Merry Holidays!" I think that's the way to go.
Moral of today's story: people are pretty cheerful this time of year and are just trying to find the best inclusive way to wish you cheerfulness, too. Merry Holidays!
An Erinku:
bowl chair
shifted to the left
so much more
tipping action
While the dentist drilled away, I started wondering about why I say "merry holidays" to folks. And...it's because I'm lazy. Even when I was little, instead of saying "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!" (which are two separate holidays very close together), I'd just say "Merry Holidays!" or "Happy New Christmas!"
Now that my circle of folks has expanded, I can either say "Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Happy Solstice! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy New Year (of many different types)!" among other good wishes, or I can continue to be lazy and say "Merry Holidays!" I think that's the way to go.
Moral of today's story: people are pretty cheerful this time of year and are just trying to find the best inclusive way to wish you cheerfulness, too. Merry Holidays!
An Erinku:
bowl chair
shifted to the left
so much more
tipping action
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
The "Nunya" School of Thought
While I mostly spend my Facebook life thinking about cookies, writing about my various adventures with gravity, freaking out about upcoming concerts, and extolling the wonders of bad 90's tv shows, this is a kind-of skewed view of how I really live. I do pay attention to local and world happenings and have definite thoughts about such things (recently someone was stunned that I had a very strong opinion on Putin's role in Russian politics, and them being stunned startled me). Anyway, I have a wide circle of folks with a wide circle of beliefs on everything and while I'm all up for discussions and debates on different topics, I don't find Facebook to be the most appropriate setting. While I do enjoy watching the occasional epic Facebook battle, flames and trolls and all, I'd much rather get my drama from bad 90's t.v.
Basically, it always seems to go back to the idea that we all have to share this crazy, little planet and sometimes the planet feels much smaller than it used to, since everyone is so connected and everyone has such different opinions about everything. And in spite of all the blah-blah bad stuff, and there's lots, I've learned that I'd rather default to finding the beautiful and funny. And sometimes that leads to the impression that I'm superficial and flaky...which I actually find to be pretty amusing, and creates a sarcastic feedback loop. Brilliant!
In real life, I'm pretty private and a big fan of the "nunya" school of thought, as in "nunya business" when it comes to overly-inquisitive acquaintances. And the impression of me being superficial and flaky just adds a layer of privacy on top of that...much like layers on a delicious cake. And even though I do have ridiculous adventures every few hours, I'm often not the sort of person who's going to blarp out my views on copyrights/education/religion/protesters in front of everyone, but that doesn't mean I haven't thought about the topics, researched, and often talked with folks on both sides of the fence. Once upon a time, I realized that registering as an Independent means I'm taking on a lot of responsibility to figure things out on my own...it doesn't mean I'm "undecided" like the phonebots, political mailings, and most folks assume.
I guess I'd rather be in a small group or one-on-one setting when talking about most charged issues, since the internet gives you a sense of immunity, which can lead to big old arguments you might not have in person. When I find that I'm completely on the opposite end of the spectrum as someone, I like to know where they’re coming from, since everyone’s world-view makes sense to them.
That being said, I've got a lot of the predictable views you'd expect from a person who knows a lot of musicians, artists, philosophers, who has several degrees in the arts, and who makes stealthy recycling trips around the neighborhood (since my current living space doesn't recycle). However, I've also got some opinions that would be different from my stereotype. For instance, while I believe strongly in gay rights (probably not a surprise), I also believe strongly in smoker's rights (which might be unexpected). Both groups have been through a lot and are both living on the margins. I could go on and on, but again, I don't think Facebook is the most appropriate setting.
Overall, this little blog could be interpreted as "if you want to know what I think about ___________, buy me a coffee and/or a beer and let the words flow." It seems today was a Tuesday for feeling a little less superficial than usual. Sometimes this happens.
An Erinku:
right shoe
just a bit
bigger than
left shoe
Basically, it always seems to go back to the idea that we all have to share this crazy, little planet and sometimes the planet feels much smaller than it used to, since everyone is so connected and everyone has such different opinions about everything. And in spite of all the blah-blah bad stuff, and there's lots, I've learned that I'd rather default to finding the beautiful and funny. And sometimes that leads to the impression that I'm superficial and flaky...which I actually find to be pretty amusing, and creates a sarcastic feedback loop. Brilliant!
In real life, I'm pretty private and a big fan of the "nunya" school of thought, as in "nunya business" when it comes to overly-inquisitive acquaintances. And the impression of me being superficial and flaky just adds a layer of privacy on top of that...much like layers on a delicious cake. And even though I do have ridiculous adventures every few hours, I'm often not the sort of person who's going to blarp out my views on copyrights/education/religion/protesters in front of everyone, but that doesn't mean I haven't thought about the topics, researched, and often talked with folks on both sides of the fence. Once upon a time, I realized that registering as an Independent means I'm taking on a lot of responsibility to figure things out on my own...it doesn't mean I'm "undecided" like the phonebots, political mailings, and most folks assume.
I guess I'd rather be in a small group or one-on-one setting when talking about most charged issues, since the internet gives you a sense of immunity, which can lead to big old arguments you might not have in person. When I find that I'm completely on the opposite end of the spectrum as someone, I like to know where they’re coming from, since everyone’s world-view makes sense to them.
That being said, I've got a lot of the predictable views you'd expect from a person who knows a lot of musicians, artists, philosophers, who has several degrees in the arts, and who makes stealthy recycling trips around the neighborhood (since my current living space doesn't recycle). However, I've also got some opinions that would be different from my stereotype. For instance, while I believe strongly in gay rights (probably not a surprise), I also believe strongly in smoker's rights (which might be unexpected). Both groups have been through a lot and are both living on the margins. I could go on and on, but again, I don't think Facebook is the most appropriate setting.
Overall, this little blog could be interpreted as "if you want to know what I think about ___________, buy me a coffee and/or a beer and let the words flow." It seems today was a Tuesday for feeling a little less superficial than usual. Sometimes this happens.
An Erinku:
right shoe
just a bit
bigger than
left shoe
Monday, December 12, 2011
A Mighty Beast
Today we are stalking the elusive early-morning Erin in her sleeping den. It's early, it's dark, and there is the white noise of a fan to keep out the sounds of cranky neighbors and late-night parties at the bar across the street. We spy a lump on the bed, with some toes peeking out...no wait, they've retracted into the blanket. All is quiet.
Suddenly, a click comes from the alarm clock! Instantly a hand shoots out from under the covers, smacks the snooze button, and disappears back underneath. From somewhere deep, a muffled “uh-uh” sounds. All is quiet.
Seven minutes later, the clock clicks again. The movements are repeated, only this time, the lump rotates while saying “uh-uh.” This is repeated five or six or eight times, with the “uh-uh”s sounding more sad each time.
Finally, the clock clicks again, but the hand misses the snooze button! Suddenly the sound of screeching violins and an opera singer in the middle of a loud something fill the room. The hand smacks around, continuing to miss the clock entirely! A head pokes out of the covers, sees the clock, and with a long “urmmm” of dismay, the alarm is turned off completely. All is quiet.
Some minutes pass. The lump rotates and then, with a loud sigh, sits up, and shuffles off to the shower. Our quest is over! We have seen the elusive early-morning Erin transform from a lump under covers to the zombie who will shortly be moaning for coffee. Rare indeed was this sighting! Next up: stalking the elusive “lost stripey sock of awesome!”
An Erinku:
mmphf, coffee brewing
my imagination
is fully awake
even though I'm not
Suddenly, a click comes from the alarm clock! Instantly a hand shoots out from under the covers, smacks the snooze button, and disappears back underneath. From somewhere deep, a muffled “uh-uh” sounds. All is quiet.
Seven minutes later, the clock clicks again. The movements are repeated, only this time, the lump rotates while saying “uh-uh.” This is repeated five or six or eight times, with the “uh-uh”s sounding more sad each time.
Finally, the clock clicks again, but the hand misses the snooze button! Suddenly the sound of screeching violins and an opera singer in the middle of a loud something fill the room. The hand smacks around, continuing to miss the clock entirely! A head pokes out of the covers, sees the clock, and with a long “urmmm” of dismay, the alarm is turned off completely. All is quiet.
Some minutes pass. The lump rotates and then, with a loud sigh, sits up, and shuffles off to the shower. Our quest is over! We have seen the elusive early-morning Erin transform from a lump under covers to the zombie who will shortly be moaning for coffee. Rare indeed was this sighting! Next up: stalking the elusive “lost stripey sock of awesome!”
An Erinku:
mmphf, coffee brewing
my imagination
is fully awake
even though I'm not
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Dangerous Times
I have been blessed with the ability to have ridiculous injuries when least expected. There was the recent whacking of my lip against a semi-padded arm rest, the whacking of my forehead against the edge of a sink during a spontaneous shoe-tieing incident, and the whole getting a papercut on my finger from a maxi pad (which really pushes the edges of reality, if you think about it). But nothing quite prepared me for my injury last night.
I was making pizza from scratch and, being mindful of the danger of slicing/dicing knives and hot pans from the oven, I was being fairly paranoid since I needed all my fingers working for today. I kneaded dough without incident and chopped up some green peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, and regular tomatoes just fine. I grated a pile of pepperjack cheese with zero drama and was thinking about what other awesome pizza topping I was missing.
I saw a happy onion on the table and this is where the story turns...weird. I cut some onion while using the old-fashioned bear-claw technique to avoid losing a fingertip. I finished slicing and felt a sharp, sharp pain in my thumb. Blood was happening, but the knife...the knife was nowhere near my thumb. It turns out that the ONION ITSELF stabbed my thumb! It had some stupid, old skin layers that had been peeled off near the root and some of those were cranky and pokey and sharp enough to stab my thumb, and events like this are exactly why I'm paranoid of peeing during a thunderstorm. How small are these odds, exactly? Grrr.
Moral of today's story: bad times when the vegetables fight back.
An Erinku:
epic bad 90's tv
epic bad box of wine
this is how
music school really goes
I was making pizza from scratch and, being mindful of the danger of slicing/dicing knives and hot pans from the oven, I was being fairly paranoid since I needed all my fingers working for today. I kneaded dough without incident and chopped up some green peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, and regular tomatoes just fine. I grated a pile of pepperjack cheese with zero drama and was thinking about what other awesome pizza topping I was missing.
I saw a happy onion on the table and this is where the story turns...weird. I cut some onion while using the old-fashioned bear-claw technique to avoid losing a fingertip. I finished slicing and felt a sharp, sharp pain in my thumb. Blood was happening, but the knife...the knife was nowhere near my thumb. It turns out that the ONION ITSELF stabbed my thumb! It had some stupid, old skin layers that had been peeled off near the root and some of those were cranky and pokey and sharp enough to stab my thumb, and events like this are exactly why I'm paranoid of peeing during a thunderstorm. How small are these odds, exactly? Grrr.
Moral of today's story: bad times when the vegetables fight back.
An Erinku:
epic bad 90's tv
epic bad box of wine
this is how
music school really goes
Cookie Musings
On a recent visit to Trader Joe's, I bought a suitcase full of cookies. It wasn't fully intentional; I kept running into cookies that looked fabulous and by the end of the shopping trip, I had a cart full of awesome yumminess...mostly in cookie form. I'd like to say that these cookies have a long full life ahead of them. Sadly, it turns out that gingerbread men dipped in chocolate are delicious.
I'm now about 15 hours away from my recital boards (the audition where I play my full recital for some faculty members who decide whether or no I can actually have my recital) and I'm getting antsy pants. The last time I had boards, about 12 years ago, I was the second person in the history of that school to fail. So. Today I practiced a bunch, ate a cookie or two, and am watching some bad 90's tv shows.
My life currently follows the same pattern as it did a few weeks ago, in spite of classes being over for winter break. I've still got lessons, rehearsals, and a first draft of my big-ass written project due on January 3. The good news is that I sometimes see sunshine, I have time to take walks, and I've surfaced enough to hang out with folks a little bit. And I just ate another cookie. Addictive, evil little things.
I suspect that after my boards tomorrow, I'll have some more energy to seek out funny things my fellow humans are doing and saying. I like very much that in spite of all the silliness I see, there is still plenty of silly left in the world. Perhaps tomorrow, I'll go explore and look for adventure. Until then, I've got cookies to eat and an eight-hour nap to take.
An Erinku:
whew!
lucky that improbable
plot twist happened there!
bad 90's tv is brilliantly bad.
I'm now about 15 hours away from my recital boards (the audition where I play my full recital for some faculty members who decide whether or no I can actually have my recital) and I'm getting antsy pants. The last time I had boards, about 12 years ago, I was the second person in the history of that school to fail. So. Today I practiced a bunch, ate a cookie or two, and am watching some bad 90's tv shows.
My life currently follows the same pattern as it did a few weeks ago, in spite of classes being over for winter break. I've still got lessons, rehearsals, and a first draft of my big-ass written project due on January 3. The good news is that I sometimes see sunshine, I have time to take walks, and I've surfaced enough to hang out with folks a little bit. And I just ate another cookie. Addictive, evil little things.
I suspect that after my boards tomorrow, I'll have some more energy to seek out funny things my fellow humans are doing and saying. I like very much that in spite of all the silliness I see, there is still plenty of silly left in the world. Perhaps tomorrow, I'll go explore and look for adventure. Until then, I've got cookies to eat and an eight-hour nap to take.
An Erinku:
whew!
lucky that improbable
plot twist happened there!
bad 90's tv is brilliantly bad.
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