Oh, the Places You'll Go
Here I am, moving again. I have put off packing and cleaning until the bitter end, where time is limited and the adrenaline pumps. My motivation is the clock even after giving myself 3 days to pack and clean. Unlike my usual moving proceedure, I have taken time to take in parts of Colorado I may not see again for awhile; such as rock climbing in Boulder, skiing in Arapahoe Basin and doing open poetry mics in Denver.
In this time, I have spent time with friends to say good bye and do all the things I promised to do since I arrived. I have also given some though to what I will do next. It is routine to talk about the future, when in many cases I haven't established much of a past with my new friends here. Plus, living in a seasonally dependent ski resort means there is always the question, "Will you be around next season?"
Snow Cat Tour: Learning About My Backyard
In a few hours, I learn Lodge Pine and Aspen grow in my backyard. Admittedly, I have not made much of an effort to catalogue the history and landscape of Winter Park, Colorado.
On a Snow Cat tour of the Winter Park Resort, the last 68 winter seasons are ground down to the finer points; the naming of Allen Phillips ski run, now masked as the extreme Terrain Park, the summer activities plan and the Colorado ski market. The Snow Cat, a large bulldozer-like tank with comfortable seating for 12, is usually used to groom the runs.
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Celebrate Chinese Food Month
I haven't had the motivation to blog...as of late. I haven't been in the mood, mainly because I have been so busy with being a full-blooded American. Actually, trying to remember what it means to be a full blooded American.
Since being back, I hit the ground running, very typical of me, and pretty much haven't had time to look back. After moving back from Kunming, China in November, there hasn't been a dull moment to reflect.
Such Great Heights
Local Music is the blood shared by community. And safe too.
As I listen to Brian Greyson, his five man band and wife belting out house rocking covers and poetic originals, I realize how deprived many Chinese people are from good live music. My point of comparison is China because after living there for 4 years, lacking live local music with soul, took a toll on my creativity.
I phrase this statement "with soul" because China has a long way to go before the underground music scene produces unique beats, catchy vocals and talented group bands.
Harsh? China struggles to synthesize original back beats in overly pop sounding love struck lyrics.
Pins and Needles
I didn't used to believe in Eastern Medicine.
I went to my first Acupuncture session for my shoulder yesterday. I found a highly qualified acupuncturist, Jeff, who recently moved to Winter Park. He is still new and just getting his practice at Body Works Spa in Cooper Creek Square started.
My first impression; Jeff is very good at making me feel at ease and more than happy to explain the background for any body part, pin prick and ancient Chinese words. He did a great job working on my wrists, jaw and shoulder. On my shoulder, he also added Liquid Moxa, a lotion extract to intensify the heat and promote blood flow in the injured area. Moxa, short for Moxibution, is a herbal medicine that is set on fire to smolder and often associated with small goldfish glasses placed on the back.
I will go back for my second appointment this Tuesday. I am trying to take care of my body by mixing Physical Therapy with Acupuncture. Along the way, I will have a deep tissue massage and hopefully start working out my legs.
Until I lived in China and had some good friends study abroad in Chinese Traditional Medicine, I thought Eastern Medicine was all a hoax. I firmly believed Western Medicine had superior technological and research advantages over Eastern Medicine.
Before and After the Accident
I dislocating my shoulder snowboarding. It wasn't a proud moment, in the least. In fact, I have been beating myself up over the whole incident. Three mood setting sentences have been running through my mind:
I am such an idiot! (Being hard on myself)
Poor me, I can't button my pants! (Feeling sorry for myself)
Everything will be OK... (Being optimistic, because...break into song and dance...the sun will come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar...)
Oh, the Weather Outside is Fright...ful
Three nights before Christmas
and all through the airport,
Not a creature was departing,
not even a wart.
These are the events that took place on Friday, December 22, 2006, the day the Denver International Airport opened after a two day blizzard, dubbed "The Worse Weather in America." On that day, I attempt to get home for Christmas.
Characters involved; Sandy, my elementary school friend whom I have known since I was 8 years old; Darren, her husband and myself. We are all scheduled to depart on the same flight.
7:15am: Alarm goes off and I hit snooze. I groan from my extra sensitive nasal passages, sore from too much activity, dry air and not enough sleep.
7:21am: Alarm goes off again, I hit snooze. I whine from having a dry mouth and having to search for the alarm.
7:27am: Alarm goes off, I turn it off and get up. Sandy asks "What time it is?"
7:40am: I start to pack my bag full of dirty clothes to wash when I get home. Sandy and Darren pack also.
8:00am: Continue packing. Sandy washes the dirty dishes from the previous evening's dinner.
8:14am: Darren and Sandy advise me that based on their CERT Emergency
Training class through the City of Los Angeles Fire Department, they
needed to pack emergency rations and carry plenty of extra water, to
prepare for a long stay at the airport. I laugh. Then, I agree to
look for extra food.
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Snow is a Blowing
Fresh Powder!
The blizzard brough awesome snowboarding coditions. I had to get out and ride with Sandy and Darren, who came to visit me and get a ski vacation in Colorado. They weren't too fond of the fresh powder but I kept raving about how pillowy, light and fluffy it is; they gave up on complaining.
