All the Roommates are Gone....

But there is still plenty of spring shredding to be done. The powder days are probably over for the season but there are still turns to be made. There are several aspects of spring skiing that make it such a special time of year. For one the resorts are deserted. I stopped in the middle of a run yesterday and looked behind me and saw no one. It was a beautiful thing. But one of the coolest aspects of skiing at the end of April is that the amount of clothes necessary for optimal comfort is decreased significantly. Sweet.

Granted skiing by yourself is not nearly as fun as skiing with your people. But riding up the lifts by yourself does give you the unique opportunity to converse with some of your fellow enthusiasts who have not put up the skis for the season just yet. By the time you get to top you have generally discussed how great a day it is and how I live here and they live in the 'Bay Area' four hours away. But yet we both have season passes. I am always impressed with this level of dedication. So here are a couple snippets for my life changing conversations on the lift yesterday.

Fellow skier: "What a great day. I always forget how much I love spring skiing."

Me: "Yup, it's a sweet day."

Fellow skier: "Are you from here?"

Me: "Yup, I just live down the mountain. You?"

Fellow Skier: "About forty minutes south of the Bay Area."

Me: "Sweet."

Fellow Skier: "Your the first person I've seen wearing shorts today."

Me: "I'm the first person I've seen wearing shorts as well."

Fellow Skier: "It's a good day for it. I'm about ready to lose this turtleneck."

Me: Luckily my inner monologue kicked in here. Otherwise I would have made some sort of suggestion about burning it. But I just replied, "Right on."

My next lift ride conversation was much more exciting. Mostly because I think the fact that we were both wearing shorts made us instant friends. Super.

Fellow shorts wearer: "Man the snow at Sugar Bowl was better. I should have went back there again today."

Me: "It's always a good day just as long as your out there."

Fellow shorts wearer: "True. I debated the shorts today. I knew if I was going to be doing bumps I would probably fall. But if your not falling your not skiing hard enough."

Me: "Right on."

Truer words have never been spoken. My next run down I took my first fall of the day. And my next lift ride up I saw my fellow shorts wearer tearing up the bumps.

Not a powder day but still a good day none the less.

Pain From the Valley

I have pics, I am just too lazy to put them on here right now. I'll get on it. So far, my recreational pursuits in Yosemite have been, well, painful, to say the least. This weekend I did my first two climbs in the valley... a lovely little 5.8 finger crack, which was delightfully fun, and a horrible 5.7 offwidth that took about everything I had just to not get my hips stuck in it. In the process of attempting this little gem of a climb, I managed to completely scraped my back on the rock. That will teach me to try to wear cute climbing tops. Dumb. Then today I was riding my bike to the gym and decided with my new Mark Lobsanger tune up, I'd jump a few curbs. This was a dumb idea. I was a bit too far forward in the saddle and proceeded fly head first over the handle bars into a pile of pine duff. I had pine needles in my hair, mouth, and underwear. It was neat. Supposedly it was a spectacular fall. Shame the faller never sees it. Only minor injuries sustained and it was totally worth the sweet curb jump.

Anna DeLaine Phoenix

Maybe not a common household name yet. (Depends on the household I suppose). Give it time though, it will be. In a few short weeks this super star will be closing the book on her undergraduate career at West Virginia University. And as she does with all things in her life she will be doing it with style. Anna will be graduating in the top of her class at WVU. Not the top of her Interior Design Program (that too), but the top of the 2008 Senior Class at WVU. She is among the top 50 graduates of 2008. Oh yea and her senior class consists of about 6,000 students. Neat. Here is what the WVU press release had to say about her.

WVU to honor 50 outstanding seniors during Commencement Honors Convocation

Anna Phoenix, of Cross Lanes, has aspirations of becoming the interior designer for the White House. She will graduate in May with a 4.0 GPA and Bachelor of Science degree in interior design. She plans to obtain a job as a designer, receive professional certification and earn a master’s degree in museum studies or a related field. “While a career is important to me, I know that it is not my only purpose in life,” she said. “Serving my community and ultimately the world is very important to me. I believe that people are the most important part of life, and I want my life to reflect that.” As a resident assistant in Bennett Tower, Phoenix has overseen floor programming, chaperoned trips and interacted with freshmen on a daily basis. She served as adviser to the Bennett Tower Community Service Club and coordinated monthly projects. Phoenix spent a semester in Morocco studying Islamic art and architecture, the history of the Middle East and North Africa and the impact of globalization on women in Third World countries. She has been awarded the PROMISE; WVU Mountaineer; Davis College of Agriculture, Forestry and Consumer Sciences Alumni; and Joan Oty travel scholarships. Phoenix has also been named to the WVU President’s List and awarded the Phi Kappa Phi Outstanding Freshman and Gamma Sigma Delta Outstanding Junior awards. She is the daughter of Paul and Shirlett Phoenix.

This is what I have to say about her. Anna you are about one of the most amazing people I know and I could not be more stoked for you and all your accomplishments. But I am even more so impressed with the person that you are. (I already knew you were outstanding). I know every place you will go and every person you meet will be better because of your presence. Tomorrow is Anna's Senior Interior Design Exhibit. (If I could apparate I would so be there). The culmination of her work from the last four years. I can say from experience this moment is a huge sign of relief. Although her designs and projects are more than amazing, they do not tell the whole story of her time at WVU. I know the people you have met there will not soon forget you and your impact in those lives (especially the ones you helped to not puke on themselves..multiple times) will be appreciated for a long time. I know you will only continue to make your corner of the world a better and brighter place for everyone in it. 'Girlfriend you are beautiful.'

So remember this name because I know Anna will only continue to do amazing things. How do I know this? Because while I was outside getting dirty, looking for crawdads, and taking my bike off of sweet jumps Anna was inside copying the dictionary!

The 15,000 Mile Winter

As I watch my odometer continue to climb higher and higher a couple of things happen (besides getting yet another oil change). 1) I turn up my music louder to ignore the rattling noise that comes from the rear of my car every time I go up any sort of grade. 2) I wonder how in the crap in a time period of 7 months have I put 15,000 miles on my car?
Since my drive to work is less than 10 miles round trip I don't really think my work commute is the culprit. No, I am pretty sure it has something to do with the frequency in which we left our timezone this winter to DRIVE to places in other timezones. We started off the winter with a Thanksgiving climbing trip to Joshua Tree. Although still in our particular timezone, Southern California with it's brown clouds and what not seems somewhat like another world. I'm pretty sure though it was the Christmas road trip to the east coast that sent our 36,000 mile factory warranty flying out the window like a discarded piece of hubba-bubba. The neatest part of that trip was how we made Phoenix and the Fiesta Bowl 'on the way' back to Tahoe. Then there were other trips that did not require us to drive across Kansas. An ultimate tournament in Vegas, a sweet ski trip to Southern Colorado, and I'm pretty sure I have driven back and forth to San Francisco close to 12 times. At least it feels like I have. My advice to all you other road trip warriors is hubba-bubba and sunflower seeds. I have discovered them to be excellent distractions from the desolate Nevada desert.
I think my husband said, "This winter was full of exciting times and well some minor drama." I would have to agree with him. I don't think we could have crammed much more into this winter. Most of all I think we just all laughed a lot. When your having family meetings to make sure there is no confusion about where to put the magnetic beer bottle opener on the refrigerator after using it, and the Douglas County Investigators show up looking for your landlord, and well every once in a while the water gets turned off....well that's just funny stuff.

Pics from the new neighborhood

Just a few pics of the new place... Hopefully they'll be just enough to entice you all to come visit! These were all taken from our bikes. Sweet!

And just a quick sidenote on the job...

Probably the neatest thing about this job is when I tell people in the park where I'm working they give me this look as if to say, "Oh, you poor girl. They're going to eat you alive, you silly little interpreter." Then they loose control of their inner monologues and say, "Ooohhh." and they scrunch up their faces like they've just eaten a Sourpatch Kid. Then they usually follow with, "Well, you sure will have a busy summer, dear. Good luck with that." Neat. It's really encouraging. But, as I've said the whole time, "Bring It." It makes me feel more bad ass that way. Like I know what I'm doing. It's a whole lot of false confidence. (Which as Jimmy says, is the best kind) Bad guys don't know what kind it is either. I think I'll be fine. This blog is my self affirmation.

And on an unrelated topic, if anyone sees a used kid bike trailer that would fit a 7o pound pooch for cheap, I'm on the look out. It'll be funny. Trust me. Me and Bear... we gots to get around the valley in style, you know. Cheers!

Here Goes Nothing!

I made it through the first three days at Yosemite. Holy crap. So the Valley is shenanigans. But my housing is sweet- I can walk or bike everywhere. Bear is soooo getting a trailer for the bike! The folks I work with have been very supportive, funny, and welcoming. Super! Currently, I feel a bit in over my head at the moment, but I think that will pass. I managed to pass my shooting qualifications by some act of the gun god, having not shot anything since December. Once again, I hope my first gunfight is in the dark with a shotgun. Me and the pea shooter, not so much. But I qualified. And day one on patrol... Pretty sleepy in the a.m. then I was reminded of where I work. A guy threatening to hurt himself. That was interesting. And seven minutes later, I got to assist with an arrest for a misdemenor warrant. I did my first person search on day one. Sweet. I think I work in a busy place. I think I'm about to learn a proverbial crapload about law enforcement. So, here goes nothing! Also on the docket this month... technical rescue training, fire refresher, and some miscellaneous EMS trainings. I think this'll be all right, friends. I will, however, be VERY ready for my margaritas in Olympic and some relaxing in the last frontier when I'm done. :)

A Packers Lament

In case any of you are unaware, I HATE packing. It is that time. Today is that adventure. Bear is pissed. Up the stairs, down the stairs, in the car, out of the car. I think he knows. It makes him nervous. Me too. Here's the thing about packing your life every 6 months... you keep accumulating more crap. So, you keep getting rid of stuff to make room for the new stuff, but really, you bought that stuff because you were going to need it, so then you get somewhere and you're like, "Why the crap did I get rid of the broom? What did I make room for?" Then the answer is hits you in the face like a softball to the nose when you were 10... you made room for your 3rd pair of skis! Clearly! The irony lies in the fact that as seasonals we are naturally adventurous people, so therefore, we have more toys than your average hobo and no place in which to store any of them, so they all come with us, regardless of the season. Ever go to a seasonal housing area on moving day? There is more stuff attached to the various combinations of Thule and Yakima roof racks, boxes, tail gate racks and hitch mounted trailers than you would have thought possible. 2 kayaks (one for open water, one for swift water), three different bikes (a road bike, a soft tail, and a hard tail, 4 pairs of skis (cross country, the powder teles, the all mountain teles, and the rock skis), and of course the roof boxes loaded with climbing gear, helmets for every sport (we're at least safe about it), ice axes, crampons, probes and shovels, plastic boots, ski boots, hiking boots, trail runners, tents, and camp chairs. It's like REI unloaded it's 2nds in your car. All of those items, however, are seasonal necessities. Brooms? Seriously. You'll use that twice. Unless you're Clay Hanna, then at least twice a day. (Man, I'm gonna miss that kid!). But the problem remains packing all that crap. My hands are dry and cracked from packing boxes. I ripped a bag with an ice axe, broke a bunch of hangers, and split my finger open on a cardboard box. And somehow, I will manage to get all of that plus a 70 pound dog into the Subaru. Let the games begin! And good luck to my fellow seasonals who may have not started yet, but will within a month. You all know what you are in for and all I can offer is moral support.And beer if you travel through Yosemite on your way. ;) Here's to hoping everything fits!

My Winter Braiding Hair

Looking back over my shoulder at this winter past I smile. This past winter was quite an experience for me the eldest of two brothers (That means no girls). This unique experience for my wife and me was living with a new addition to the Hanna Family Maureen Joyce Finnerty. Although this packaged deal of MISS Finnerty came with a male it was in the form of a three-legged dog named bear. Bear the wonder pooch is fond of lying around the house, but he is not too fond of the wood shavings or the sound of my router. He spent many a woodworking day dreaming of new episodes of Gray's anatomy lying on the couch. This new addition to the Hanna Family took a little adjusting and getting used to. It seemed that out of the blue there was lots of girl talk and giggling that was as foreign to me as braiding hair. For all the males out there in blog world I researched some types of hair braids to catch you up on the hip times I live in. Read further:

· The French braid: One of the very first braids that every woman tries on their hair is the classic French Twist. French Twist style could be worn by just about anyone with medium to super long hair. To do this braid, start at the very top and take three small, but equal sections of hair from the front. Begin braiding by moving the right to the middle and then the left. In your right hand pick up a little more hair and move this into the middle. With your left hand pick up more hair and move it to the middle. Continue alternating, each time picking up a little more hair on the side. When you come to the bottom of the head you should have picked up all the hair. Now just continue with the rest of the hair like the simple braid

· Simple braid: To do a simple braid pull all the hair back, you may want to secure it with a rubber band. Divide the hair into three sections. Take the right section of hair over the middle section; now take the left section over the middle one. Alternate the right and left sections until you reach the end of the hair. Now band or clip it to keep it in place.

· A fishbone braid: Divide your hair into two and take a very little section from the top of the right side and add it to the left. Make a small section of hair from the top left and add it to the right. Go a head to go back and forth working all the hair in. Keep it tight. Work down the head and continue in the same way until you have reached the bottom of the hair, band or clip. This 'hair do' is very impressive looking especially if use very small amounts of hair, but it can take a very lengthier time and hence not suitable during your rushing-up moments.

Well that was refreshing. Anyways, this winter was full of exciting times and well some minor drama. Things were going to be a little different in my little world in Gardnerville, NV. After settling into these changes I realized that having Mo as a close part of my life truly benefited my wife and myself. She brought laughs and good perspective into my life that I needed and she challenged me listen to the heart and not always the mind. (Now if I can only reciprocate the reverse.) So hears to you roommate and BFF who never lets anything get you down. Ladies and Gentlemen hear me out when I say Maureen Finnerty has taken a beating this winter and has kept running the good race. Not to mention she has kept Skinny Cow and good breweries open for business. Heres to you substitute teacher, ski patroller, EMT, Blog writing, Avalanche guide, mail piling, BFF, early morning rising, Internet romancing, car maintenance requiring, chi tea drinking roommate. This winter would have not been the same with out you. We all know that you are going to bust some heads in Yosemite so go get em' partner.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Tightrolls?

Do you ever wake up and realize that, somehow, unbeknowst to you, someone has let a fahion tiger out of it's cage and neglected to tell you? Well, maybe not. But today, I had such a moment of horror. My first period class walked in and I saw it. The horror was more than I thought I could handle that early in the morning. This girl walks in, armload full of books, oversized zip up hoody with skulls around the collar, little silver studs bedazzled to the zipper line... all of that was fine. It was the uber tight stonewashed jeans made tighter still by the neat little folded over roll at the bottom. Now all of us who grew up in the eighties remember this fad and surely hoped that it would go the way of our New Kids on the Block t-shirts (which apparently are about to be en vogue again thanks to the NKOTB reunion) and snap bracelets. Not so. It is back. With a vengeance. After school, I went to Target, where I was promptly visually assaulted by the tight roll again! This time it was an overweight woman in her late 30's and only what I could assume was her rather goth looking boyfriend. They were both rocking the tightrolls. I'm hoping this is a regional thing and the rest of you have not seen this disturbing trend. If indeed this is the next big thing, I am bowing out, having rocked that when I was 9 or 10 along with the crimped hair and the little socks with the balls on the ankles. But I couldn't help but notice, as 80% of the kids in my discovery science classes today rocked the skinny jeans, boys and girls alike, that perhaps I was missing something in my hemp jeans and Patagonia thermal. But then again, perhaps not.

We live in Nevada

I can't tell you how many times a day we say that. It is the all encompassing excuse. Why? Because we live in Nevada. I write this blog because we are all about to not live in Nevada. Although I have found this experience of living in the Silver State to be an interesting chapter in the misadventures, I will not miss this state. It is dry. It is brown. It is warm. I was in the grocery store the other day. My trips to the grocery store are a get in, get what you need, and get out so you can go do something better experience. No. Not here in Nevada. Here in Nevada, you fill your carts to exploding, check out, then you sit in the entry way. Why? Because you live in Nevada. And you can sit there as your ice cream melts and your milk spoils playing slots. At the grocery store. In Nevada. We have driven across the state both west to east and north to south, and of course, back multiple times this winter. We should have taken photos of the double wide trailers along Hwy 395 with their larger flashing neon arrows like sirens, pulling in the 2am truckers to the "Gentleman's Palace- Girls, Girls, Girls". That neon siren is the only voice in the Nevada desert for hundreds of miles. Later this week, I will be leaving Nevada, to go to a state that is possibly it's antithesis. California. Funny where life takes you. Never did I ever think I would live in the most populous state in the west. I will surely miss Wyoming and it's lovely pronghorn. But I will no longer be in Nevada. And that will be okay. Aimee and Clay each have one more journey across Nevada to Salt Lake and eventually the Tetons. If all goes well, it will be their last trip across the Great Basin for quite some time. New adventures await. Time to leave Nevada.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High

To finish up this three part series on our educational system, or something like that, I'd like to tell you all that my last blog was apparently very wrong! They have no idea! Although none of them asked if I was, nor did they care if I ever was married (in which i took a great deal of comfort), they sure did enlighten me. I realize that as a sub, I really have no power whatsoever. So I didn't much try to break up any conversations unless, of course, the kiddos (who wear about 3 X the amount of makeup that I do) were completely failing to do any sort of work. I think to prepare for this, I should have paid more attention when watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High. There was this table of girls-they were the kind of girls that when you were in high school, depending on your gender, either made you loathe them out of jealousy (ladies) or want to take them somewhere in the backseat of a car (gentlemen). Hold onto that last statement. As I was wandering through the room checking their work, trying to put on my best "teacher" face despite my messy ponytail and sweater that smelled slightly like a head shop, I overheard some outstanding conversations. Man, was I enlightened. "...Well obviously he loves you. I mean, why else would he ask you to do that? That's big..." "... I guess, but, well, he totally loves me."

Okay. I'll buy it for a dollar.

"... why would he go with her. She is so ugly. Did you see her new glasses? I don't know..." "...I've only ever done that once, but I must have been good." Okay, ladies, I say. Less talking, more working. What I really wanted to say was, "Nooooooo! He doesn't love you and she is not ugly, she just has a tragic haircut that she will remedy in about 3 years and will be smoking hot, and those glasses are fashion forward. And I'm sure if you've only ever done anything once, the likelihood of you being good at it is slim no matter how many issues of Cosmo you’ve read. Give it time, you little biddies- let's not rush into things." But I clearly just kept checking papers and listening to their torrid conversations in between the click of my heels on the linoleum. Seventeen more "less talking, more workings" later, they all turned in their papers, having solved all the problems of the adolescent world at the expense of their assignment and several perfectly oblivious girls, told a few little white lies, and, of course, enlightened me to no end. You can't get stuff that ridiculous with a subscription to Seventeen. It seems that these high school girls have moved on, upping the ante, and have started subscribing to Cosmopolitan. I shudder to think what they read at the Catholic high school, because everyone knows, it's always just a little worse. The weekend is now upon us, so it seems appropriate to end my series on our educational system with this classic tale of high school girls. This afternoon I was in the grocery line at Smith’s paging through Cosmo myself. It should be sold with a warning for parents of teenage girls. And as I write this, I realize, that my boss's 13 year old daughter was right... I am sooo not cool.

Cooties and the Miracle of Life

This was day two with the 2nd graders. And again, with the barrage of marriage inquiries. I asked them if they remembered asking me about that yesterday. They assured me they did not. Kids are so funny about that stuff. Someone told me they were much like dogs... no long term memories. I can only hope. I told them, once again, that I was still not married. Fortunately tomorrow, I teach high school kids. All of them will know perfectly well why I am not married. They have all had enough bad dates to know. And the kiddo issue, well, I'm sure they have seen that video in health class... you know- the birthing babies video. The Nova masterpiece The Miracle of Life. I think its an unwritten rule that all good Catholic moms make their daughters watch that when you turn 15. But those kids know. They all know. Except of course, the ones with kids or expecting kids. And I'm sure they wished they weren't making out in the janitor's closet during that lovely piece of cinematography. That did it for me. No more anything after that one. No more making out. No more even talking to boys. What they had was way worse than cooties. I'm still not sold on the idea that they have gotten rid of those. However, I am past the point where I can use that as an excuse not to go out with them. Barring exceeding attractiveness (At which point, it doesn't much matter if they have cooties. We all know that. You are so getting cooties!) I've had to come up with more adult excuses, like "... it's not you, it's me.", "...I have to do laundry." or "...I have to let my dog out." Don't ever buy that one. Dogs can hold it a long time. I'll save the rest of my romantic advice for my high school astronomy class. They'll need it.

Bugs and Babies

So, I love substitute teaching. I'll get to that in a minute. Today I subbed for 2nd graders and it was, unbeknowst to me, field trip day. That's right. There are fewer things more chaotic than 80 2nd graders in a museum. And, even fewer still that make me want to run screaming back to my well behaved, quiet, command obeying DOG. Today we went to the the arboretum and "living museum" in Reno so that the kids could learn about praying manti. They are clearly on their insect lesson. It was actually a cool museum, but Delores, who was our guide, docent if you will, couldn't have been a day younger than 87 and honestly, needed flash cards to remember the parts of an insect. Forget themes, goals, objectives and creating an emotional and intellectual connection between the visitors and the meanings inherent in the resource. We learned that insects have 3 parts and 6 legs. Why that couldn't have been gone over in a classroom so we could talk about the 6 bazillion lenses of the eye when the kids looked through the cool bug eye lens at the museum, I will never know. Nope. 3 parts, 6 legs. End of story. Snakes? Well, we learned that snakes are long, not slimy, and won't poop on you. Man, I'm glad they cleared that up. But the kids did get to hold a snake, so that was sweet. Delores called it a Coral Snake, which I thought was a bit funny. I corrected her quietly. It was indeed a C-O-R-N snake. But she was close. You know, C for Coral, C for Corn. Whatever. Okay, so if you can imagine, the day got BETTER! We got back to class and I taught them how to read clocks and schedules. I was tempted to tell them how important that would be later, but they still had snake poop on the brain, so I didn't want to ruin that. So, I'm standing up there with my electronic pen trying to figure out how to work this new fangled technology (apparently chalk boards are soooooo passe.) when this girl looks at my name on the board and says (this is so classic!),

"Miss Finnerty, you have two S's because you're not married!" She was so proud of herself for that statement.

"Yes, that's right, now, everyone look up at the clock in the front of the room..."

"But Miss Finnerty, why aren't you married? All our other teachers are married."

"I'm working on it," I said. I know, I know... it is not good to lie to children, but that wasn't the only one I told during this exchange, so let's move on.

"So, do you have kids?" She asks with a a little smile.

"No, I don't, but thanks for asking, " I said. (The teachers aide is now in hysterics in the back.)

"But you want kids, right?" She asks.

"Um," I say... Not a fair question on field trip day. No one wants kids after a bus ride with 80 kids to Reno. Seriously.

"Um, maybe."

"But why don't you want kids?" She asks. "Yeah..." the rugrats all chime in.

"Okay, let's talk about me and kids after class. I love kids and can't wait to have them (big lie number 2, for those of you who are counting). Now everyone...1...2...3... Eyes on Me!"

"1...2... Eyes on You!" They all chant obediently and stare back at me rather bug eyed (yep, full circle).

So, the secret to having kids is apparently repetition of silly numeric chants. Got it. I'll put that one in my notebook. I'll then practice on the dog and see where it goes. Then we'll talk about kids. Ah, I do love subbing.