Snow re-fuelin'
Friday, Feb. 28, 2003

We now take a short break from bitterness and self-pity.

I will be here:

for the next 6 days.


When all of the job stuff started coming to a boil in the last couple of weeks or so, one of the things that my wife and I talked about was whether or not we should go to Utah to ski. After all, we're now in full-blown Austerity Mode, which means, basically, there ain't no such thing as discretionary income until yours truly secures new employment. No new CDs, no new books, no movies, no pizza, no Chinese's not pretty.

But then, two things occurred to us. One, the vast majority of the money for this trip was spent in August, when we booked it. At this point, it's meal and drinking money that we're talking about, and we could always push our credit card debt just a little higher if we have to because, after all, we are American.

Second, we really need this vacation. My wife works at a real law firm, the kind teeming with bodies that spend the better part of their lives in the office or on the way to and from said office, billing, billing, billing all the while. She could use the rest. Plus, we both could use a break from thinking about my job search; I also figure that, once I do get a new job, I'm not going to be taking any time off for a while, so I should take this opportunity.

Finally (okay, I know that's 3 things, whatevah), this is the first trip we're taking without kids since my son was born over 6 years ago.

Let me repeat that: Over. 6. Years. Ago. I think you know what I'm talking about here. Quality alone time, my friends. I hope I remember that her name isn't actually "Mommy." No one needs to hear that at the wrong time, I assure you.


What do you love to do most in the world? That's skiing for me. The best feeling in the world to me is coming down a nice steep black diamond trail on fresh snow on a clear sunny morning, the sky so blue that it hurts your eyes. You get going and you get into this rhythm and - bang - you're locked in and the combination of you and the mountain and the air, is what it is. The most beautiful music you can think of.

And sometimes, you stop and you're the only one in the world. You can hear yourself breathing and feel your heart pounding and your skin is electric and your feet are saying "dude, c'mon, we only have the whole rest of the day now!"

When I get back, it'll be pressure and humdrum and hoping for interviews and disappointing rejection but, right now, I'm twelve hours away from a plane ride, and the orchestra is warming up.

Posted by mikeski at 4:32 p.m.