Deer Valley, Utah

I've been looking forward to this week for a few months now, and I'm extremely happy to say that it's exceeding my expectations.

Deer Valley's situated amidst four top-notch ski resorts, each of which have a multitude of different runs. The first day we arrived, I was reminded of Texas. "Oh crud," I thought, "there's no snow at ground level and everything looks dead." It was true. The shrubs, plants, and grass were brown, thoroughly exposed, and didn't look like anything you'd want to ski on.

Then it stormed. And it was good.

All night and all day it flaked down, little by little, until the air looked like a cloud had descended and there were inches of the soft, white stuff blanketing the ground. Dav, Clay and I hit the slopes yesterday and discovered the joy of powder snow. Unfortunately, it was only a thin layer over ice, but there was joy involved nonetheless.

After a half day yesterday, Dav and I decided to go hardcore and hit the intermediate/advanced slopes at Park City Slopes for a full day today, starting at 9. For some reason, I woke up at 5 a.m. Because my body hates me (Hey blog readers! Andrew's a raging insomniac for no apparent reason! See previous blog posts Dreaming fans!) Don't ask me why, but for some reason my boots were a little too loose and I lost a good deal of control and maneuverability. Meanwhile, Dav's snowboarding down the slope like a giddy kid (yesterday's Deer Valley slopes don't allow snowboarding - too snobbish? - but he was a good sport and tried skiing for the first time) and I'm eating his dust. Snow. Powder. Whatever.

Luckily, we broke for lunch around 11:30 at this restaurant on the side of the mountain, and lo-and-behold we encounter the Jumbo Kobe Beef Hot Dog special with fries. Now, I consider myself something of a fry snob, and American frites tend to come in just short of European fatty snacks. BUT, much to our surprise, THESE fries were GREAT!!! ...or maybe it was the fatigue and hunger. I'm no doctor. And what hot dog would be complete without relish, hot mustard, ketchup and mushrooms?

At this point, we promptly fell asleep at the table for a good twenty minutes. 9,000 ft in the air makes you tired.

Finally, one brownie later, and after I'd figured out how to properly adjust my damn boots, we headed out. We found 8 amazing runs, all nicely groomed, and spent the next three hours battling our own muscles as we tackled the speediest and most fun slopes of the day.

We've been too tired to move since 5 p.m., so we spent the night resting up, working on my script, catching up, watching "Whose Line", and leaving Susan one really silly message. We'll see if I can get to sleep before 2 tonight.

I've had one fall so far, and expect at least one more (just to be realistic. I can't be perfect ALL the time.) Tomorrow we do another half day and then make pizza for the family. Stay tuned for more updates as the week progresses!

A Rush of Crud to the Head

Here's a thought everyone can relate to.

How many people do you know - intimately - who often allow their emotions to completely control them?

Now, we all do this from time to time, but there are always a few people who I describe as "Body Junkies". This term refers to people who derive immense pleasure from the intensity of their emotions.

Some people seem to act helpless, victimized by their own bodies, almost like they've been hijacked by the chemicals rushing through their brains. It's as if they seek validation from this rush of emotions.

Do the world a favor, and pick one day of the week. On this day, if you encounter someone who's allowing this to happen to themselves, give them the gift of your compassion. Say nothing, smile, give them your grace and allow them to make their own mistakes.

Since Feeling is First

Since feeling is first

who pays any attention

to the syntax of things

will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool

while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,

and kisses are a better fate

than wisdom

lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry

- the best gesture of my brain is less than

your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other; then

laugh, leaning back in my arms

for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis


e. e. cummings