Thursday, March 25, 2010

Brain Storm Forecast: Cloudy with a Chance of Sunshine

ALRIGHT. I’ve got it.

So in the last month and a half since I blogged, I have tossed myself headfirst into the world of wine. I’ve thoroughly read two editions of the Wine Spectator (and that is a THICK magazine). I’ve tasted some fabulous glasses and I can now address the local wine bar employees by name. I’ve spent about $100.00 on some great deals at BevMo during their 5–cent sale, I now have a small collection of different varietals and vintages that have and will continue to further my education daily. I have enjoyed the incredible company of my Uncle Marty and Aunt Lily, who share their lovely expensive wines and cheeses with me so I may know the differences (and get a bit drunk, mind you). I’ve even convinced our lead Sommelier and restaurant manager at the Shores to consider me for a cocktailing position so I may learn more about the industry.

So why am I sitting in my chair, questioning myself? You see I just read Tim Burton’s biography on Wikipedia, since Alice in Wonderland just came out I’ve been re-fascinated with his genius. I keep thinking that I need to be releasing my creative energy – not locking myself into a stuffy profession where snobs prevail. Yes I could be a very fun, entertaining snob – but if I give in to the high society service industry – it may be giving up a huge part of what I really want to do. I need to make music, write, and teach. Teaching… wasn’t that on my list?

Now don’t you go and think I’m giving up on wine – by no means is that on the agenda. I am still just as fired up as I ever was. It is very un-affordable for me right now, I can’t keep dropping Franklins at BevMo and paying for $10 glasses of fine Zins twice a week. I certainly can’t afford fancy tasting dinners or touring through Napa. I’m just going to have to stick with raiding Uncle Marty’s fabulous collection and reading about how wine tastes.

My next move is to stop being a lazy butt. There are more usable hours in the day than what I’m using – I need to get myself in the teaching door. Get off my butt – volunteer. I’ve gotten all the forms and things, I just need to walk across the street and DO IT. I will also staple a big Nike swoosh to the ceiling above my bed so I can remember that I need to JUST DO IT.

I realize that I KNOW I am going to be a teacher. I am somehow going to end up there in some capacity. I have been making excuses because I’m afraid to dedicate myself to something. It’s hard!!! Here are my excuses: There’s not much money in it, there’s a lot of politics in it, you could grow to be a crazy parent if you’re a teacher (Kim maybe you can give me your opinion on this one?), you can be laid off in a pinch (I may not be able to get a job – period), and you have to deal with crazy parents – ick! And it pretty much goes without saying that sleeve tattoos will be marked off my to-do-list, Family: you may begin the happy dance now.

BUTT! But... It is clear as day to me that I need to be spreading my enthusiasm for writing, reading, poetry, music, etc. Those are not only my joys but my natural talents. I would be silly to change directions completely right now. I need to finish what I started - by starting back on the same path I've always known. I don't need career advice. I need a damn swoosh on my ceiling so I can kick my own butt to where I know it belongs.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Career brain is stormy

So what do we ever hope to accomplish in this life? If it’s possible, I believe I’ve thunk myself into a standstill. Every direction I move I feel like I’m taking a step back.


My job is mellow. I feel important and respected, I get paid well. However, supervising a Massage Department with no potential for growth is SO not what I want to do for the rest of my life. Not to mention that this is a horribly inactive, quiet, desk job. It’s not just me who thinks I (a wild, loud, active person) should not be here. I am staling into complacency and the steady paycheck.


So what do I do? I want to be a teacher but I have no experience or time to take classes. I could take classes online and learn by-the-book, but I’m a hands–on kind of girl! Even if I get credentialed and get a job in this economy, I’d make less money than I do now. And what If I don’t like teaching as much as I think I will? At least I’ll be able to move around and talk above a whisper…


So now a new option arises, Danny points out to me the other night that I am thoroughly and passionately obsessed with wine. AH! A passion that I can sink my teeth into, be around adults, be loud and certainly move around. I like the sound of this. I can sell, talk about, and drink wines from the most wonderful places and share them with the world! But now I see myself getting even further into hospitality – which is lovely but means that raising a family in the near future would be twice as hard if I’m to work weekends and nights and be more focused on the customer/vendor than my own well-being!


HOW does one decide????? What if I get started and change my mind – what if it’s too late? ARgh.


In my mind, I think I can do it ALL, somehow... Just get me out of this DAMN CHAIR!


I love and hate this wild ride. At least I’m down to wine professional and teaching English, I daresay those two may come together nicely in a hand-crafted college course. Wine in Literature of the 1800’s anyone?

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Ode to a Water Bug


Water Bug


They say you are a cockroach

You are sliding around and sneaking

Creeping and clawing with scratchy feet

Who can blame them

You eat the trash and burrow in it

You should try to work on appearances

It just looks bad when you eat the trash

Wiggling teeth-claws on your face

Munching and generally spreading crumbs

YOU are gross, water bug


But you are not a cockroach


Thursday, February 18, 2010

Swine Blog

Okay,

This is how it's going down. I cannot get myself to get the H1N1 Flu vaccine.

I convinced myself finally that it is the right thing to do, but when I had to actually drive to Kaiser I couldn't do it...

Basically an extreme situation flashed before my eyes: I was one of 15 survivors left in California because an unseen problem with the vaccine surfaced 5 years after the initial outbreak of Swine flu. I sighed and began to accept that I was now responsible for helping to re-populate this great state.

Now I know this is illogical, but I have an extreme personality and high anxiety so naturally this possibility would occur to me.

Long story short, it comes down to fear. Currently I am more afraid of the vaccine than the virus. What can you do? Fear is powerful, just look at Glenn Beck.

Just thought I'd give you an update. I'm sure I'll flip-flop a few more times with this one.

-Lisa

Oh blog

Dear Blog,

I have been neglecting you out of my own hesitation to dedicate my efforts to finishing the Spirit Lake story. I do intend to conclude the Daggett Peak blog. You will be stunned!!! But it takes a lot of work, so I may slip in a few random blogs between and when I finally do post everyone can enjoy the experience of going back to read them all together! At least I hope they will enjoy it.

Thanks Blog, nice to see you again.

-Lisa

Friday, November 13, 2009

Day 3, Part 2: Daggett - the Ascent

Well I felt bright and chipper the next morning! Apparently the “illness” wears off after a few hours of rest. Everyone is up before me- as usual. I hope the kids inherit the Thedell early bird gene (that is hypothetical, family – no promises!) because I don’t think it can be learned. I indulge in some camp coffee – mmmmmm! Breakfast is quick, Todd and Brinn are born ready with trekking sticks in hand.


Pack the packs, nuts and snacks, long underwear or just slacks? I go for the long undies, it was bloody cold last night!


No time to really think – I was busy sleeping while everyone else thought. We are off!


We get about a mile up the trail and the oxygen starts getting thin. We stop for a break and I strip off as many layers as I can without taking off my pants. Long underwear was NOT the right choice. We all drink water and trek on; it is truly gorgeous weaving through the frills and fauna above the lake. If the view didn’t take your breath away, the altitude surely did.


Another half a mile and Todd realizes that half of his fishing pole is missing. (You see we though there would be a lake involved…) We think for a bit, and I credit myself with pushing him to run back along the trail to find it. He does so – literally running, mind you – and finds it!!


It is important to mention at this point that these men had not planned on following a trail; we depend on walkie-talkies and making arrows out of sticks on the ground to meet up with Todd again. We decide to stay together and make a new route. Brinn has the coordinates of a geo-cache atop Daggett Peak which we can use to triangulate our path – so we say yes! Let the bush-whacking begin!


No one knew what we were getting into, not even a tiny bit.


We begin the hard-core hike through brambles and mosquitoes. We weave up through the trees, over fallen trees, around fat trees and use other trees as footholds when things get steep. There is much talk about the tree-line, which is a goal for us to reach. The tree-line is where the temperatures are generally too frigid for trees to grow – we are all strangely excited about this for some reason.


We do this for hours, moving at a nice pace straight up the incline. All of us are feeling very mountain-man, rough and rugged! It is a dance of layering, shedding, swatting, munching, and OFF-ing (which became a verb as we so frequently had to spray ourselves with trusty OFF, the mosquito poison of choice for all great bush-whackers).


We reach the tree-line by late-morning. It is a beautiful, open expanse of rocks that leaves room for spectacular views all around us. We get excited to climb higher and see even more. Daggett is so great!


It is about this time that Breanna notices a distant rise of rocks on the horizon… Brinn checks his GPS, the reality blows up on us as a thin, airless wind: We are not even close to Daggett peak. In fact, we have only traveled about ¾ of a mile closer in the past few hours. There is a fleeting, shared round of WTF expressions on everyone’s face.


Of course our doubts are quickly replaced by shrugged shoulders as we mock-stretch our legs to prepare for another round. The motto becomes “Well, we made it this far…” It doesn’t look so bad.


Several photo shoots in as we traverse the vastness of not-quite-yet Daggett Peak, we all enjoy the fact that we can see Wyoming. Wait, what’s that? Yes, all of the crazy wheelie propellers can be seen as well.


At some point we realize that we are not going to be home for a long time, and no one packed a lunch. Josh admits that Breanna definitely suggested that we pack lunches, and now we all wish we had listened. Peanuts anyone?


Our denial of Daggett’s monstrous proportions began to falter as we actually drew closer. Before we could think twice, we had arrived at the actual base of the peak. Brinn and Todd said that we were right on track, so we prepared ourselves for the crazy.


You don’t have to be a Lord of the Rings fan to understand that we were on the border of Mordor. This mountain looked like it ate the Matterhorn for breakfast. 5 hours in and we never imagined that we would be catching our breath at the foot of a beast. It was generally discussed that we should turn back – but none of us were chicken. No. We were going to do this. In fact, Brinn and Todd had already begun, cruising up the rocky cobbles as though we had just arrived at Chucky Cheese and this was some colorful pit of plastic balls to laughingly throw one-self into.


Danny and I looked at each other, shared some clever curse words, and started up. I heard Josh double check to make sure that someone had The Ring and we agreed that Breanna should hold on to it.


Breanna looked like she might kill someone, but she bit her lip and Josh joined her in the first steps.


Every step made it look like the mountain was getting bigger. We began to notice a general trend of increasing steepness. At first it was exciting and fun when the rocks got bigger, it was like a mild form of boulder-ing. We joked about being mountain-goats and I decided that I would not wear my tight jeans next time.


Soon I got the inklings of that pit-of-your-stomach fear, the idea came to me that we might be in a very dangerous situation. The rocks kept getting steeper and bigger, making it very difficult to see anything around you or to determine if the next rock would be stable. I was beginning to get dizzy from the height and the drop below. We started to stagger our climbing as much as possible to avoid knocking giant rocks on each other.


It became a very slow progression. The miraculous climbing skills of Todd and Brinn became very apparent as they raced ahead. Danny and I had to stop almost every five minutes to breathe as the altitude and the strenuous climb took a toll. I became very concerned about how we were going to get down. There was really no way to go back the same way we were climbing up, it would be far too dangerous. Todd had mentioned that they had talked to “some guy” who said there was a really quick way down on the lake side, only ½ a mile! I counted on this being true and pushed on. Thank goodness that Danny is so encouraging when we get into crazy situations, I probably would have panicked without him.


This was nothing less than a massive adventure – creeping up these boulders like so many small ants trying to reach the picnic. None of us could see the other groups, it was a blind, haul - straight up. We hadn’t heard any crashing or screaming, so we just…kept…going!


You can imagine our general surprise and frivolous revels when we found that the endless rock pile was not, in fact, endless. We REACHED THE TOP!!! It had been nearly an hour or more of rock-hopping, and it was GLORIOUS to be at the actual peak!


Brinn and Todd had already explored the entire peak, which was what a lunar-lander might see on its first trip to the moon. More rocks! Yay! We all trudged up to the middle and sat the heck down. For a good 30 minutes we sat, munched on dried fruits and nuts and stacked rocks on top of each other.


We found the famed geo-cache of Daggett! Turns out only five other people had been up here this year – we just doubled the population! We signed our names and buried it. We hung out really close to the edge of the cliff as mountain men do, to be cool and to see exactly how high we were.


It was seriously the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen of this sort, we had ascended over 2,000 feet throughout our journey and reached a final height of (I think I have this number right Brinn) 12, 075 ft! It was just phenomenal. I could fit the view of Spirit Lake under my thumb! We basked in our accomplishments, it was a HUGE rush!


Another huge rush of air from behind us brought a concerned look to Todd’s face. We all looked and realized that there were relatively massive storm clouds rolling towards the peak – and we all had fishing rods sticking up 3 feet above our heads.


We took a few more rounds on the peak and decided that it would be a good time to find a way down before we became human lightning rods.


A way down… does anyone know the way down?

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Day 3, Part 1: Daggett- the Beginning

Now we move ahead to the solid – meaty part of the journey. This is where boys become men. Girls become men. We are all very manly in the sense that NO one will give up OR ask for directions. And the lone voice who said “we should really pack a lunch” was quickly silenced, shrugged off, and replaced with trail mix and beef jerky.

Yes, this is the story of Daggett Peak. How we came, saw, and conquered the behemoth.

Part 1: The Beginning

Now, as I left you a day earlier, whacking balls and tossing back brews…

There was of course the breathtaking drive out of Utah, into a small sliver of Wyoming, and right back into Utah. We took note of the lovely amber fields of grain… or in this case, the dried up fields of those huge wind-propeller alternate energy-providing creepy-as-all-hell even in the daylight THINGS. They were impressive to say the least.

But who cares about the Empire State sized spinner wheelie things; it was a car drive, a means to an end.

As we rolled up the mountains and into the trees – the car spit up so much red dust we might as well have been driving to Mars. As all great camping destinations do, Spirit Lake revealed itself through the maelstrom – and it was nothing short of spectacular. The deep blues and silvers of the lake’s surface lazily reclined off to the right as we rolled along. It seemed as if the lake was very excited to see us, but was playing cool like mountain lakes do – not giving away too much of herself.

We made no game of showing our excitement – leaping out to choose the best tent-pitching areas. The crisp air was far colder than I remembered, which was perfectly wonderful. Danny and I are excellent campers – we had our new home set up within minutes and it was off to the lake for a fish!

Fishing Spirit Lake is like floating closer to heaven – albeit with troves more mosquitoes and frozen hands – but that is just the way the lake welcomes you. You have to love the fact that you can’t feel a mosquito biting you when you are numb from the cold. We bask in utter silence, hearing only the chirps of squirrels and the soft plops of bobbers dropping into the water. I admit that when Danny goes back with his first catch – I enjoy singing “Fishing with John” to myself, rocking to the lazy melody and hoping for my own fish.

We decide that once night falls and we have both lost feeling in our feet, that it is time to bid the lake “Good evening, oh flawless one!” and head back to de-frost around the fire.

The whole family has arrived now. The fire is booming, the food and beers are flowing! We see that Brinn has found a most perfect niche in between five trees for his tent and he has built a small paradise inside. Nice.

We unload our green and red fold-up chairs and sit down for a brew. Danny smokes his catch directly in the fire – a tiger trout! It is too delicious, and I tell the fish thank you for the great dinner.

I remember Todd saying something about being determined to hike the Peak tomorrow, and I say “I’m in!” as my head starts to swirl… I see a world of Bud Light, flames, and some freaky curtain that could only have been the inside of my eyelids… then the most horrible headache I could ever imagine sets in.

I flash back to a similar sensation I felt while laying in a pup tent at 12,000 ft in Yosemite last spring with Janine… she shoved a cliff bar down my throat and told me to sleep – altitude sickness! What a BUST! I knew it. I scarfed a cliff bar, downed a bottle of vitamin water, and excused myself to bed.

Danny helped me get to bed and I was SO cold and it HURT and AHHHH!! I finally fell into a crazy person’s sleep – trying to relax between the head-pounding pain, nausea, and the wild banana fairies. ICK! Somehow I made it through till morning.

Little did I know that this was only the beginning…