pleased precariously

“I guess it would be a bad thing for me to ask you if you wanted to come home with me.”

“Not nearly as bad as me saying ‘yes’.”

laughter, then silence

“So you want to come home with me?”

“yes”

woke up very slowly to my alarm going off, not wanting to move. so warm and familiar. the night before so hot. this can’t be real. I must still be dreaming. Yeah. Just turn off the alarm, though, it’s annoying as hell. who dreams of an alarm going off, anyway?

Just finished doing the primary series in my kitchen. It’s amazing how roomy my body feels lately. Walking around feels different. Clipping my toenails (or even washing my feet in the shower) is completely different now that I can function with my head inches away from them. The positions I now find comfortable while in bed waiting for sleep are… well, twisted.

Head is feeling really quite roomy lately as well. Devoid of much thought, and the thoughts I do have are fuzzy and ill defined. Caffeine brings them into focus somewhat, but I don’t like relying on it for that. So I walk around in a semi-constant daze.

It’s funny that in a head so empty, it’s so easy to get lost.

People have been telling me lately that they’re glad I’m so happy. That I look good, look like I’m taking care of myself. That they’re happy I’m getting out and doing things. That they’re suprised at how well I’m doing.

I have them all fooled.

Rereading Winterson this morning, and found this wildly appropriate passage:

The wind picked up throughout the day as the clouds moved in and the temperature dropped. When we started I was fairly comfortable in my midweight long underwear and my fleece, but by the end of the day I was thankful that Sierra rented jackets. I was also thankful we spent most of our time on the more sheltered runs of the west bowl.

On our last run of the day the wind gauges were apparently showing 35mph gusts over the summit. As I stood facing downhill waiting for Veanne and Tina to strap in and follow, a gust blew me backward onto my butt. Now the beautiful swirling mass that had all but obscured the ground while I was standing was at eye level. I was thankful for my goggles, but still hurried to turn around. It felt like the pea-sized chunks of snow would flay the skin from my face if I stayed in that position for too long.

As I rested on my knees and leaned backward to counter the semi constant buffeting, I took in a sight at once alien and beautiful. The sun blazed weakly through a swirling torrent of snow and ice as the wind scoured the runs, laying bare the icy foundation and depositing the loose snow on the leeward side of the summit. It felt like I was looking at what it must be like on top of a really enormous mountain, its summit piercing the jet stream. Or maybe what it’s like when a truly awesome storm blows over the south polar icecap. It was so beautiful I almost forgot the experience of facing downhill. Almost that is, until I caught glances of people through the maelstrom trying to board down, their faces either buried awkwardly into the front of their coat or hidden behind an outstretched arm, off balance and trying to spend as much time on their toe edge as possible.

We made our way down the run, each at our own pace. I opted for bombing it, figuring it was better to get it over with. I stood at the top of the bunny slope, trying to warm my frozen cheeks, lips, and chin, while I waited for Tina and Veanne to catch up.

I noticed Veanne and figured Tina would be close behind so I hopped a couple of times to get moving down the easy green. I moved a few feet and slowed to a stop. “This is NOT cool,” I said and heard a girl next to me laughing as the wind started pushing me *back up* the bunny slope. I slid the board around and leaned on my heel side edge to stop the movement, and found myself about 10 feet further up the hill. Waited for the wind to relent a little and started back down. It was like fighting a rip current. I couldn’t tuck because every so often I’d be hit from the front or back which would have knocked me over. So I slowly coasted down the slope to the lodge, a man-shaped sail.

Saw the new Warren Miller film last night in Berkeley. Steph has a (very believable) theory that Warren Miller only makes one movie, and has for 50+ years. She left during the intermission, not interested in seeing the rest. I got sweaty palms and feet while watching it - something that has always happened when I watch skate videos. In Panama, Chris, Dave, and I would normally skate up the hill to Rich’s house and hang out there for a while watching whatever video was new, while he woke up and/or got ready. Then we’d leave, full of energy and eager to try the things we’d seen on the 15″ tv he had in his bedroom. We’d skate down the hill recklessly (the hill responsible for the 2″ long scar on my right elbow) and head out to scour the bases and surrounding suburbs for spots.

Leaving in a few hours for Sacramento, base of operations for a Saturday of boarding with Veanne, Tina, and Ryan. Day 5 on snow and it’s not even December. I’m off to a good start this season. Have the same energy and eagerness to try things I saw on the screen last night, but conditions will probably keep me from doing that. The snow is going to suck, but bad snow is better than no snow, right?

See you all on Sunday.