Jill's Blog

I'm Totally Scared- First Descents For A Second Time

2011-07-31T20:29:00.000-06:00

I did a stupid thing. I sat up on top of the Cliff Lodge and pretended it was like I was back in high school where I could stretch out on a lounge chair, flip through a Cosmo and soak up the sun. Less than an hour later my upper thighs are on fire. Even my chest got fried despite the SPF 50 I slapped on. I needed this morning of chill. I blew up at Ryan, and Sage was hitting the back of my leg in response to the anger. I snapped her up and forcefully plopped her on my bed, making her cry. All hell was swirling. I feel like I can't get in front of the 8 ball. Ever since Punta Cana I've been playing catch up without success. Looking ahead 10 days I'll be back home and can breathe again. I will do nothing but hunt for a new laptop, write and climb. Maybe kayak too. I don't see me pulling a C to C on account of the ATV crushing my ribs but at least I can paddle.
I wonder if I'm doing the right thing going on another First Descents trip; not because I'm taking advantage of the offering- an all-expense paid whitewater kayak adventure on the Flathead River in Glacier National Forest- but because I may not be welcome. That 'chat' I had with Whitney (one of the FD organizers) questioning whether FD was the right place for me really rattled my ego. Like a breakup from a guy when I thought things were going well, I thought, "Huh?" I wouldn't have signed up for a second camp if I didn't get something out of the camp last year. It was my feedback. It's got to be. Perhaps they're used to only hearing raves. Who would say anything negative when they get it for free? But I was critical- like I always am- not in a bad way or so I thought- but I offered up some constructive feedback that a company looking to forever improve should want to hear. I'm guessing they took it as me attacking their program; which I wasn't. I explained that of course I had an amazing time why else would I want to attend again? My sole gripe was that I felt forced to bond and share emotions. I just wanted to meet new friends (who have something in common) and learn to kayak. I wasn't looking for therapy.
This is the first year in 11 that FD will host camps for 2^nd timers. The first year- just get them down the river. Young cancer survivors testing their determination and living in the moment instead of dwelling on cancer. Many were introduced to something they never in their life thought they would be doing. Now, the second year- turn them into kayakers. The staff is excited about the new offering and so am I. To start up where I left off. Physically, not emotionally. To hone in more time on the river. But I may be entering hostile waters…and Konvict is our leader again. History. It may not be a good thing in this case. It was his job last year to force bonds and make us all share with those nightly campfire chats and I'm pretty sure he told Whitney that I often checked out. She called and we talked. She said that maybe this time around I should tell everyone that I'm an introvert when it comes to sharing emotions so no one takes it personally. I'm more nervous about the group stuff than I am about the paddling. Gulp.

Have You Ever Lost A Parent?

2011-02-15T14:12:00.001-07:00

How do you accept death? Life, that's easy. You look forward to seeds sprouting, grass turning green, a new baby's wail. But how do you face death without this huge ache and dread in your gut? Maybe it's different when you're the one about to go - after you've lived 90 years. But I'm telling you now, I'm scared of the pain and unending sorrow that will meet me when a parent dies. No matter how angry and awful parts of my childhood are remembered to be, my mom and dad are my best friends. I call them every other day just to chat and catch up. They get on my case for choices I've made, I hang up on them, we chuckle, we plan visits. Who will I call 'just to call?' Who will make me feel that no matter what I do, who I do, how I feel, where I am, I have someone I can count on, someone who has my back, someone who still loves me? Only parents do that. They may pull the silent treatment or hold a grudge but in the end the wall comes down. Without them, I'm alone. I'm raw. I'm unprotected. Left to make decisions without their voice in my head; no one to try to make proud of me.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, my parents cancelled their trip to Europe, got in a car and drove 12 hours to the hospital to be there for my surgery 10 days later. They would have been here immediately but I made them wait. No one else but a parent does that for you without asking. They just know it's what you need.

I want to scream, "Don't die! You can't die! Live forever, please?!" But I can't because it wouldn't do any good.

My dad's cousin died last night. I called Dad to see how he was doing. He sounded just like he always does. Upbeat, sarcastic, active. He told me they're waiting for a guy to show up to measure the backyard for a putting green. Then he said, "and then there were two." Referring to the fact that only he and his cousin Joseph were the last of his line (ignoring of course that both of them have children and grandchildren). He's not thinking legacy. He's thinking time left. Me too. I wish I could pick his brain about death, dying, life, how he sees those, how he faces them, what he wants in the end and what he dreams about. But I can't. Not because he doesn't want to talk about it but because I'd be reduced to a blubbering mess. I don't want them to think they have to do something to make me feel better. We have nothing to resolve, no words left unsaid. But maybe I feel like that kind of conversation could be closure in the future; something to look back on and smile warmly inside? But I'm not strong enough to start that chat.

Maybe I'm afraid to see how scared they really are; or how they're not scared at all? Maybe I'm just afraid of not being steady. I cried making the speech at my best friend's wedding reception. She caught it on tape. I'm still mortified by that moment.

How do you tell someone living how much you love them and how much you'll hurt when they're gone? You expect them to say something like- "I'm not dead yet" and then you feel like an ass. I hate myself right now because they're here, they're not gone yet and I'm grieving when I should be celebrating; when I should be embracing whatever time they are here. My mom is 70-something (she'd kill me if I revealed the number), my dad, 82. This year we are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary in Club Med Punta Cana. Last September, I had them running, er, walking all over Epcot, Hollywood Studios, Universal and the Magic Kingdom during a week in Orlando with Sage. People live to 100 these days, right? And if anyone can do it these tech-savvy jetsetters can.

Sometimes I think I'd like to go first and then there'd be no suffering, no emptiness, no pain 100 times worse than a boyfriend ditching you. I'm selfish but not that selfish. My parents don't deserve to feel what I'm terrified to feel. Neither does Sage. She needs her parents for her own eternity and I would never want her to want to die before me. I just have to grasp that what will evolve is part of life; inescapable, tragic and tearful. That we did all we could do- are doing all that we can- for this temporal existence and nothing was missed.

Gadgets gone Wilde At CES

2011-01-09T21:29:00.001-07:00

It's the stage for intense hyperbole.

I am no longer a Consumer Electronics Show virgin. I have conquered my first time at the biggest tradeshow convention of my life. More than 150k attendees have dropped into the Las Vegas Convention Center to explore the latest and "greatest" technology to come. Everything here is the biggest, the smallest, the fastest, the most efficient, the greenest, the most innovative, the only, the _____ (your adverb here).

We entered the South Hall Thursday morning and were instantly disoriented. Imagine walking into a robust casino with every slot machine going off and you have an idea of the frenetic energy on the show floor. Oh, and, the South Hall doesn't even cover a third of who's here at the show. By 6 p.m. we had barely made it to the Main Lobby where Microsoft, Samsung, Sony and Panasonic were displaying ginormous 3D flatscreen TVs.

The trends you'll find for next year start with tablets. Everyone is making a keyboardless touchscreen thanks to the iPad frenzy. Blackberry's Playbook is getting the lion's share of the buzz but that doesn't mean you won't find a pad that's just right for you and within your budget. Could I tell you who's making the best? NO. I'd have to use all of them and I don't see that happening. But I do plan on chatting with the marketing dude for CES to get his expert opinions on all things electronic.

: Motorola debuts the Xoom Tablet

Green energy and home automation to address energy saving is all over the place. I can't wait to get my hands on an electronic thermostat I can control with an iPod app. GE and a few other companies are working on "smart systems" that integrate your home appliances with your power meter but until the utility companies purchase the technology we won't be able to fully utilize what they're creating. But I did hear that a company called Trane has a stand alone, mobile-enabled thermostat.

Imagine you're out skiing and you realize that your thermostat was set to 70 because it was frigid when you woke up and you ran out without lowering it back down. Just open your app and log into your home meter before the tram doors shut and you have nothing to worry about.

Another company I've hunting down is called Vision Objects. They’ve developed handwriting recognition software that really works! The possibility of me writing in my journal or on a notepad, recording my penstrokes and uploading them into a word doc is really here. I can use my own paper anywhere. It's too much to ask to make the pen and recorder waterproof but that day may come shortly.

: This one didn't

I'm sure you're wondering if I saw any robots. Of course I did. In addition to the iRobot Roomba, the little, round disc that bumps into walls and furniture and jams up from all the dog hair, there were a few of those Jetson/R2D2 buddies attracting attention. Some worked, some didn't. Most are still in the development phase and will be used by researchers. The one below is only for friendship at the moment. I'm not sure what's worse; social interaction solely through Facebook or a robot friend.

Other attention grabbers at the show include boxes to stream Internet programs to your television, gaming like Wii's race car driving game that you play from an inflatable race car, electric 'smart' cars, solar chargers of every size and shape with finally enough juice to power your iPhone smartphone or Mp3 player, pocket projectors to screen movies onto a wall from your iPhone and 3D digital cameras.

I slid into the Oregon Scientific room knowing I could find outdoor gadgets. Wireless weather stations, a new point-of-view waterproof helmet cam with a GPS add-on accessory that will map your trails and locations, and a strapless, touchscreen heartrate monitor wrist watch dazzled my expectations.

OK, I have to confess that one of the most exciting things I saw today was a wireless, waterproof, um, massager called the Alia from Lelo. Ladies, the little gizmo was sooo cool! Can't wait to, um, test it.

More gadgeting and reporting tomorrow.

Winter Packing 101

2010-12-13T23:33:00.000-07:00

Never fails. The night before your trip, you stand in front of your closet wondering, "What do I bring??" You've checked the weather report and it calls for snow and 30-degree temps, so with that information let's get cracking.

1. Layers, layers, layers: Winter weather in the Wasatch changes with just about each forecast. Plus, while it might be cold and windy on the lifts, you'll work up a sweat on the slopes. Not to mention that the faster chairlifts mean less time cold, more time hot. You'll need technical clothing now more than ever to regulate your body temps. By layering you can add or subtract clothes as needed. By the way, leave the cotton for your flannel nightshirt. Cotton is a bad idea for winter recreating.

2. Technical Socks For Every Day: If you're not planning to do the wash, bring a pair of socks for as many days as your trip. Technical fabrics get clogged with dirt and sweat so they won't do their job of keeping toes warm and dry unless they're clean. The thickness of your sock will be personal preference. Some swear by thin socks but I have terribly poor circulation in my digits. They will never be as good as my midweight Bridgedale and Fox River socks. If your boots are supertight, however, a thicker sock may cut off circulation and lead to frostbite. Bridgedale, BTW, has THE CUTEST ski socks for girls.

3. Sunscreen, Lip Balm, Goggles and Sunglasses: High altitude, sunny days and snow glare can fry your skin in an instant- not to mention what the whipping wind does. Pack products for evening replenishing as well as those to protect during the day. Sensitive skin types will love the natural lotions from Epionce like Extreme Weather Barrier and their 40+ sunscreen. I always carry a 25+ lipbalm on a string around my neck. No removing gloves to dig through pockets for the little bugger. JTree facestick is great for kids and to add an extra wind barrier to your face. Last note-you're constantly wiping your face (of snow, snot and with that neck gaiter) so make sure you reapply often.

4. Water bottle or water backpack: If you don't like skiing with things in your pockets or on your back leave a bottle or pouch in your car. You'll be glad you did when you load up for your ride home. There are plenty of drinking fountains and water taps at area restaurants so make sure you keep tabs on your hydration level. Your first sign of dehydration will be dizziness and/or a headache. Don't get to that place. It sucks. I have found the most awesome water bottle for post work out. The easy-grip Spresh from Source Outdoor may look a little phallic but get over it. No problem holding it with gloves on and the innovative squeezable bottle won't crack if you drop your boots on it. And you can keep one hand on the wheel while drinking.

5. Good waterproof walking shoes: The best part of the day can be stripping off your ski boots and stepping into something soft and cozy. It's a toss up between my Acorn Earthroamers and the Hi-Tec V-Lite Snowflake.

They're like a spa treatment for your feet! I waterproofed both with Revivex Nubuck, Suede, and Fabric Waterproofer and now I take them everywhere. If you throw your boots into a Transpack bootpack, you can wear your comfortable shoes all the way to the slopes then stash your bag under a bench until day's end and wear your walking shoes home.

You'll have the added benefit of not wearing down the plastic of your boot soles walking across asphalt. (A note to fashionistas: The only high heel you should ever sport on a ski vacation should be something like the Jambu Cruise. Anything else just gets sloppy and dangerous.) FYI- Nothing screams "tourist" like the wrong shoes on your feet.

: Jambu Cruise

6. Après ski clothes: Hat hair and wet clothes may be badges of honor after a day of skiing but if you want to be stylish and comfortable for the evening it's best to change things out. Layering applies here too. It's cold walking around Main Street but it could be downright sweltering inside that restaurant or bowling at Jupiter Bowl.

If you're going to an outdoor concert or event then by all means where a pair of fleece-lined Wrangler pants but inside, they'll just look like mom jeans. Better to wear a pair of Kuhl cords or heavyduty True Religion jeans under a long wool coat like the unique Helly Hansen Embla wool hybrid jacket of merino and Primaloft.

You can find amazing apres sweaters from Neve and my favorite trendy hats for men, women and kids have to be those from Nobis (no relation to Jeremy). The dress code for ski vacays is "Mountain Casual". Leave the fancy stuff at home (unless you're doing New Year's Eve at the Stein Eriksen Lodge).

7. Food: You can plan to drop a load at resort cafeterias or you can pack snacks like Tram Bars, trail mix, and Power Bars and eat on your way home. Eating smaller more frequent meals throughout the day actually keeps you from bonking and prevents that afternoon bloat that comes with a big mountain lunch.

8. Swimsuit: Duh. Hot tubbing, people! But if you're white like me, pack a tankini from Athleta. Not only are they cute but they'll cover more skin. Sorry, guys.

9. Pain Reliever: No matter how hard you trained for you vacay, you'll feel your ski day in every muscle and joint. Pack your favorite pain killer.

10. Neck Gaiter: Those rings of fleece may not be the chicest but you'll regret not having one the minute you ride a windy lift or ski while it's snowing. And they pack and wear better than a scarf.

I'm Dreaming of a White Thanksgiving

2010-11-22T01:22:00.001-07:00

Oh yes, I finally headed out to Little Cottonwood. After a week in Orlando wearing sundresses and shorts and tracking Disney Princesses, I arrived back in SLC and head first into a storm. The forecasters didn't lie or even get it wrong this time. Today was epic. Think April 2010 but with less terrain open. I made the bonehead move to blow off changing out my tires and was forced to leave the Blizzaks in the garage and grab the Thule snow chains to get out of my driveway. At least a foot of powder stood between me and I-215. Did I mention that I have never once put on snow chains? In my entire life of weekend roadtrips to Mammoth Mountain, Calif., my guy friends always did the honors.

I watched a quick YouTube Thule installation video and had those puppies harnessed around my rear tires in 10 minutes. (They recommend placing chains on rear tires of 4WD/AWD cars.) I rolled up to Chickadee at the crack of noon. The drive up the Canyon was a slow crawl with many a vehicle doing the fishtail boogie. Alta probably would have been the better call because they have more terrain open, a singles line at Collins and the trees make whiteouts manageable; but I parked at Chickadee. I'm a wuss in the cold and the Tram's like a womb- warm, safe and rockin' the good vibes.

It's still early season despite the reported 14" this morning so I clicked into my rock skis and cruised to the tram dock. The line was insane. Full maze inside then out the door around the back of the building and out toward the plaza, ending at the ski school office. What could you do? The Peruvian Lift won't open until Friday. Gadzoom was running but I wanted the top not the middle. I wanted untracked powder not Big Emma. I stood in line. Like going back to school after summer break, there were all the familiar Bird faces.

I ran into Alta Lodge's Joni Dykstra on the dock and we hooked up for the first run. I hate skiing alone especially when the visibility sucks and my fingers are cold. The temp meter at Hidden Peak was pointing to 15 degrees. We took the Cirque Traverse for the Sign Line. We dropped in to the most forgiving snow you could have ever dreamed of on the weekend before Thanksgiving. Usually we're getting this kind of fluff the day after Turkey Day. Not this early. Every turn was creamy and if we were guys we'd be high-fiving each other at the bottom. Instead, we snapped iPhone photos. Back in the tram line others echoed our amazement. How could it be this awesome, this early? One guy went so far as to say, "Global warming my ass."

Joni's friend Larry Burch joined our unit and filled us in on the La Nina/El Nino banter. Those little siblings love to take annual turns toying with Utah ski conditions. Larry is the deputy director at the NOAA Salt Lake aviation weather center so he knows a little something about weather. Supposedly, we're in a La Nina season. COLD COLD storm systems that will dump copious amounts on winter crack. He says we've got another 2-3 feet coming by Wednesday, then an arctic front that will push in to deliver a few clear, brutally cold days for Thanksgiving.

The tram line had mellowed a bit now that the morning hardcores had left. We did another run in mid cirque. It was 3:25 p.m. when we boarded for our third and final lap. That's three runs in three hours. Not a record but seeing as how my legs burned after the first run, I wasn't complaining. Larry cut across Reg to the traverse and mentioned something about dropping down the backside; i.e. Nirvana. Sure why not? He'd been spot on so far. OMG! Not only were we the only ones in the whole area but we laid down the only tracks. I got my first face shot of the season. Up until now I had been tentative. No one wants to wreck and hurt themselves before March let alone before Thanksgiving. But here I was faced with a couloir with bottomless blowage. I had to attack. Sorry, Ryan, this was better than sex. The turns happened when they were supposed to, the legs extended when they were supposed to the hoots came out when they were supposed to. I was in the zone. I was in the zone? Already?

By the time I got my SUV unstuck from the parking spot it was 4 p.m. and the line down the Canyon was moving 2 mph. I heard those trying to leave earlier in the day had it worse- an hour and half to get to the mouth. But the traffic was worth it. I was able to make three phone calls spraying about my day to those who decided to sit it out. NEENERS.

Most people don't plan Thanksgiving ski trips. There's usually no snow. This year, Utah couldn't have wished for a better marketing campaign to get the tourism phones ringing. Where will you ski this Thursday?

P.S. The Canyons really ought to figure out a way to make their passholders happy. Announcing a Dec. 10th opening in the midst of these big dumps is not going over well. Just look at all of the comments their Facebook "fans" are leaving:http://www.facebook.com/TheCanyonsResort

Orlando Day 2- We Made It Through Epcot

2010-11-14T23:44:00.009-07:00

Ok, I really should be sleeping at this very moment. Everyone else is passed out. But I can't let the thoughts pile up. I wouldn't be able to sort them out later. What a day. We had at least three tantrums from Sage - and this is after she spent over an hour screaming like Linda Blair last night. She didn't want to sleep and she made sure no one else could. SIGH. My dad has started calling her The Thing again.

It absolutely sucks to have a child who might lose it at any turn. You read all of those books that tell you to head off tantrums before they happen? What do you do when they're always about to happen? We can't just give her everything she wants. Tantrums happen whether she's tired, rested, fed or hungry. She wants a present every day. She doesn't deserve one. Last night she didn't want to sleep. Not going to let her stay up. Today she wanted a princess dress. We told her last night that if she didn't stop, she wouldn't get a dress. She has to go a whole day without being a beeatch (we didn't use those words). She didn't last five minutes today before the monster came out. Stomping, shouting, making pouty faces, and crying were all part of the scene today. At least they didn't last as long or as loud as last night. But it was enough to get us to tell her, no dress tomorrow. And then there's another tantrum. Maybe tomorrow she can be a good girl and get her dress on Wednesday? Doubt it. The good news is then we don't have to spend $60 on a Disney Princess dress. That's the price in these parts.

We kept seeing all of these little girls glittered up, with a tiny tiara tucked in their bunned hair and wearing the latest in princess fashion. I asked one mom how much it cost and where did they go to get their kid all dolled up like that and she said Bibiddy Bobbity Boutique in Downtown Disney, $189!!! OMFG. Good thing Sage will never 'earn' that kind of present. Parents with boys are lucky. They have to buy hotwheels and video games. They don't have to spend $200 on dress up clothes.

In case you couldn't tell, we made it into Epcot. Not a single problem with the tickets. The place was relatively uncrowded and we were able to do just about everything we wanted to - Soarin', Innovations, Sum of All Thrills, Turtle Talk, Test Track, walked twice around the World, drank beer in Germany, ate potstickers in China and watched Illuminations. The parks close at 9 p.m. until Thanksgiving but we still didn't get home until 11 p.m.

I"m really going to bed now. I need my energy to deal with Sage. We're doing Universal Islands of Adventure tomorrow. My rents are big Harry Potter fans. One last mention- Sage went right to bed tonight without fuss. Is there a light at the end of this tunnel?

She looks like a princess but can she act like one??

Orlando Day 1- No Disney Just Dizzy

2010-11-13T22:57:00.013-07:00

I now know how a black person feels when they visit Utah. Our first night in Orlando and my dad picks a place called Mama Nem's for dinner. The soul food restaurant in a strip mall about 20 minutes from our hotel (the Marriott Grand Vista) came recommended. By whom I'm not sure but there we were; hesitantly shuffling past a sranding-room-only waiting area of black people all staring at us as if we were lost. Two white seniors, two white parents and a little white girl who kind of looks like the All-American Kid. The only white people in the entire place! We held our heads high and waited to be seated. It was like that scene in Animal House just before the guys come up to Boone and say "Do you mind if we dance wif yo dates?"

Everyone was extremely nice; the hostess grabbed a piece of melt-in-your mouth cornbread for Sage while we waited. After about 5 minutes, however, mom was visibly uncomfortable. Let's go, she said. It was the wait not the company that bothered her. They had caught the redeye from San Diego to Orlando last night with very little sleep. The hostess had said it would be another half hour....until we offered to seat Sage in a high chair at a four-top instead of a bigger table. All of a sudden it was 10. They didn't want us to leave!

The restaurant itself wasn't much. Zero atmosphere. WE were the atmosphere- for tonight anyway. It was hilarious. But when I tried to take a photo of my parents from across the table. Ryan stopped me and said it was rude. HUH? He accused me of trying to take a picture of black people (like when I took a photo of these girls lined up in bikinis outside of my acting class just because I'd never seen anything like it?) OMG could he be serious? I take my camera everywhere and I shoot it everywhere- including dinner. Tonight I told him that he was the rude one for making me act differently just because we were in an all-black restaurant.

Bikinis on Main

The food soon arrived, piled high on the table. Collard greens, fried green tomatoes, mac n cheese, fried chicken, ribs, corn, fried shrimp, mashed red potatoes. All of the usual heavy southern foods. The sides were on the money, the main dishes not so much. The ribs held very little meat and our chicken was dry- Sage took one bite of her drum stick and handed it to Daddy. But I'll tell you- even when Sage got off the high chair and started boogieing in the middle of the room to the hiphop music overhead, they didn't rush us out.

We drove back to the hotel a bit weary from the experience. Tomorrow we test out our Disney World tickets. I got them off eBay and the seller dropped them at the hotel this afternoon. I've read the warnings and posts all over the web. Don't buy tickets on Craigslist or eBay because there's no way to tell if the ticket's already been used but the dude had near 100 percent feedback and I used my credit card. Worst case scenario: the tickets are confiscated, we buy at the gate for the regular price and I dispute the charge on my card. I've always been one of those people who had to "learn the hard way". We'll see what happens tomorrow. Wish me luck!

I Need A Wintervention

2010-10-24T01:45:00.004-06:00

Just got back from watching Warren Miller's Intervention. The place was packed and the energy electric. I love how ski movies are part of our pre-season ski conditioning. They get you drooling for the white stuff the way a cupcake makes a five-year-old's chin drop. You shut your eyes and imagine the same cold smoke wash over you. But I have a problem with this year's Miller entry.

The skiers are getting farther and farther away from being relate-able. I'm never going to ski Antarctica or Georgia and there's no resort (ie Telluride) that's going to send me out with a guide to ski deep untracked before allowing public access to it. WM producers would have you think the only people who ski inbounds are jibbers who use the lift shacks and towers as terrain park features.

In Utah, we have some pretty mind-blowing turns but to send the Crists over to ski Cedar Breaks National Monumentwhere NO ONE that's not with a film crew is ever going to ski because 1) it's not a true ski area and 2) everything is mandatory air, is pushing it. To be fair, the filmmakers did say that this 61st annual installment was meant to be exotic. I just would have liked the exotic to also be realistic as a destination.

The running theme on addiction and staging a 'wintervention' for your recovery hit home. My favorite quote of the night was "I keep turning down my future just to go skiing one more time."

Anyone who anxiously watches the fall weather patterns for those first signs of snow knows what it's like to Jones for winter. The segments of the late Arne Backstrom floating in Heavenly's untracked (shot at 7 .m. before the mountain opened to the public) were right on the money. And those crazy Kiwis ripping at the Freeskiing Championships and bungee jumping in the New Zealand segment were sick.

No Warren Miller production would be complete without a narrator and Jonny Moseley has finally gotten a handle on his voice overs. They're more friendly and casual- much more like he's talking than reading us something someone else wrote. However, the movie sound in Abravanel Hall was so loud that most of what was said by the athletes was distorted and difficult to understand. Wish I could say that the music was better but it seemed a bit 'off' as well. The songs themselves were great but they didn't complement the moments. Take Mr. Scruff "Music Takes Me Up", for example. It's a very cool song... about music not skiing. And not life. And how about the punkish Grinderman? Something about sucking her dry and biting him on the 29th floor?

Still, you can't get too technical about a Warren Miller film. They call it ski porn for a reason. It's not 'real'. The athletes and photographers bust their butts to bring you some stunning imagery and inspiration so even if you will never spend a night in a tent on a Norwegian island surrounded by polar bears, you can appreciate the effort. Besides, at the end of the night it gets the job done. Wintervention reminds you that it's time for a fix.

Wintervention plays at 8 p.m. in Park City, Oct. 29/30 at the Eccles Center for the Performing Arts.

More film dates.

The Bullwheel Arrives! I'm Making Utah Ski Newsletters, Folks

2010-09-27T21:39:00.000-06:00

EXTRA! EXTRA! Read all about it! I've struck out on my own after 20 years of writing about skiing for everyone else. Subscribe or follow me on Twitter @pcskigal to get the latest watercooler anecdotes for Utah skiers.

Here's Volume 1 of The Bullwheel: NewsletterV1I1

ENJOY!

Skip School and Still Ski

2010-09-21T22:19:00.002-06:00

Just because you don't go to college doesn't mean you have to pay extra to ski. Alta's got a new season pass option for slackers. The Young Adult Pass is $599 if you buy it before September 29. That's $300 less than the regular pass price. The pass is for adults 18-25.
"We are in a unique economic environment where more and more of our college-age skiers are having to work more hours and take fewer classes," said Alta’s Connie Marshall. "The old model of offering an incentive to full-time college students has become impractical." Alta says they want to make sure cash-strapped youth still ski. Alta's college, college spouse, military and senior passes are all $599 before September 29. If you don't fit into any of those categories I suggest marrying a young'n or getting a fake senior ID.
FYI- Park City Mountain Resort also has a College/Youth season pass for $450 for 18-24 year olds.

Down With Davanza's

2010-08-30T20:53:00.003-06:00

Once again my blood is churning. I stayed home from my kayak class to get some writing done, told Ryan to order pizza because I won't take a break from writing to cook and we get jacked by the Davanza's at Kimball Junction. I don't know why we even bothered at this point. Maybe because we always have a great experience at the one at Foothill in SLC. But this one in PC is beyond bad. They get the order wrong 100% of the time, they rob you on delvery charges, the food is at best mediocre and now they charge you for all sorts of extras without disclosing it first.
No more. I'll pick up from the Davanzas in SLC before EVER ordering from the Kimball Jxn spot. Times are tough but not tough enough to charge $40 for a large 1/2 n 1/2 pizza!! They wanted to rape us for going halvsies. SINCE WHEN IS THIS GOOD CUSTOMER SERVICE AND SINCE WHEN DOES THIS EVER FLY WITH US? $6 extra a side, plus $14 to change olives to tomatoes on both sides!! I told them to take their pizza back and shove it. Maxwell's here we come.

Buddy Pass? Just say “NO”

2010-08-03T10:32:00.009-06:00

I finally did it. $400+ dollars and many uncomfortable hours later, I was back in Utah. The weight of the world lifted the minute I shuttled to the Diamond Parking lot outside of SL International for my car. You can’t help but vow in these instances to “NEVER FLY DELTA AGAIN”. You know you’ll never stick to your guns because there will be that one time you have to get somewhere and they have the only available, cheap, convenient, whatever excuse, flight in town. But I can say it now.
A buddy pass is no benefit when it costs you $288 + $400, leaves you stranded in three airports, with Delta staffers who treat you like you’re covered in poo, before you finally get home (only because you bought the return ticket). And the last indignity? I pay $348 for a one way ticket out of Kansas City only to be seated in the one BROKEN seat on the filled-to-capacity plane. I couldn’t recline, I couldn’t relax, I couldn’t feel like at least you can get what you pay for.
Sitting in Logan International in Boston on Saturday from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. praying I get on a flight home, being denied; spending the night on the cold polished floor there, trying again from 6 a.m. – 7:30 a.m. to get on (any) flight, being sent to Detroit, sitting at the gate in Detroit, being seated in the very last (non-reclining) row on a plane to Kansas City International, and sitting in a cramped, filthy terminal from 1:30 p.m. to 8 p.m. thinking maybe there will be a standby seat, only to have to check into a roach motel for the night so I can finally get home on the 6 a.m. flight. And then this seat. My back and neck were bitching big time, my ass felt deflated and boney, and there was absolutely nothing I could do. The flight attendant shrugged and said, “I’ll let the captain know.” WTF?
The only reason I took the trek was because of the buddy pass. Had I known I’d lose two days, 10 hours of sleep and over $600, I never would have traveled to Boston and definitely would not have traveled on Delta with a buddy pass. This experience has left a huge disgusting taste in my mouth.
A nasty gate agent that smirks because I am the only person not getting on the flight? That’s out of line. The flight attendant ahead of me in the standby line volunteered to sit in the jump seat so that I could have the last seat on the plane. The agent could have made it happen. He chose not to. It should – and needs- to be his job to accommodate all guests to the best of his ability whether they fly paid or standby, are employees or buddies. I could have been home on Saturday. But this big, flabby, unkempt guy in a T-shirt and big baggy jeans with a belt cinched so tightly the back pockets touched, played God and denied me peace.
And why do gate agents not smile?? If they don’t like their jobs or don’t want to work they shouldn’t be there. I witnessed this attitude at EVERY SINGLE GATE- that’s five in Boston, two in Detroit and four in Kansas City. NOT ONE arrived smiling or greeting those standing in the area. They kept their heads low like bartenders who don’t want to serve certain people at their bar. Don’t make eye contact and they won’t hit you up for something. That’s crap. You can show up with a smile, say, “Hi, give me five minutes and I’ll wave you over” if you need a moment to center yourself.
I felt sick. No sleep, stiff non-reclining seats, and bad attitudes. GRRRR. It was bad enough that on getting to KCI I was in the backseat that wouldn’t recline while five seats went empty in First Class but on my PAID flight home I get stuck again. A miserable experience made worse by nasty, grumpy employees, decrepit planes and airports (with the exception of Detroit’s terminal which structurally sparkled). Even the carpet on the plane home was gross. Usually I can take my shoes off on a plane, but not that one. And there was something dried and sticky in the cup divot of my tray table. Maybe with those soaring profits the airlines are reporting this year they can do something about their service and environment? Nickel and dime us to death but at least use Vaseline.
All passengers regardless of seat number or status should be treated like a First Class passenger. People go to work at McDonald’s every day, 40+ hours a week, serving, dealing with complaints, the superior attitudes of the customers, incorrect orders, and people in a hurry. But they keep smiling. If any of them acted the way Delta’s people do, they’d be fired. Maybe it’s time to clean house and hire people who actually want to be there?? Yet another reason to fly Southwest.
As I sat chatting with other standbyers over the past two days, I learned a few things. Standby ‘buddies’ are treated like the homeless- you step over them. You never fly standby in the summer because the flights are full of vacationing families, and by the time you pay for the ‘non-revenue’ ticket ($288!), the hotel, the food, the extra parking, the aggravation, your time and the stress, you’re better off paying for a fare. Tell your Delta employee ‘buddy’, “No thanks.” And if they tell you there are open seats in Kansas City, laugh and walk away saying, “Good luck with that.”

Doc Called

2010-07-23T11:23:00.001-06:00

The radiology nurses called Wednesday. Everything looks great! The calcs were benign. No need to worry for the next 6 months. Wahoo!

Back For More

2010-07-19T23:54:00.010-06:00

You're shitting me, I thought when my routine mammogram turned into two hours of close-ups and an appointment to come in for a biopsy. I wasn't dreaming and this wasn't last year's nightmare. It was a whole new kind of ugly. The good news- Your left breast (the one with a tumor that sucked away my summer of '09) looks great. The bad news, your right breast has microcalcifications. These look like specs of sand on a mammogram. I had five specs. Five. Five f&%king specs that could turn my life upside down again. 80 percent of calcs are benign. You get a little metal clip in your boob, a pat on your head and be on your way. 20 percent come back malignant and you're back on the operating slab and then on to radiation. I'm starting to get how people could just stop treatment altogether and say f*&k it even if their odds are good.
Every six months I have to go through this hell? This dread that it could be back. Canser. The bitch is back? And even if it doesn't turn out to be canser, my breasts will be Swiss cheese. So this Asian radiologist is describing what will happen next and all I'm thinking is how smudged her glasses are and how I want to pull them off her nose and clean them off for her. Maybe she was just seeing the dirt from her lenses? But then I see the evidence for myself. Those little fricking specs. And I want to run out of the room and cry. But I can't. I have to sit there and pretend like I'm listening to my dentist explain how to floss. I nod my head. I keep my cool. I'm going to have a stereotactic biopsy she tells me. It shouldn't hurt too bad and it won't leave much of a scar.
The procedure involves me lying flat on a coroners' table with my breast hanging from a hole in the center. Lovely. They numb me up then send a giant needle straight to the place where they 'think' the calcs are and vacuum them out. The tissue gets sent to a lab and 48 hours later, I will know.
I talked this all over with Ryan last night. Up until then I guess it hadn't hit me. I was fine all weekend. Even forgot about this 'issue'.
As I described what would happen to me today, I scared myself. Regardless of the pathology, this is my life now. Every six months for the next five years, at least, I will be forced to deal. I can never put it in my past and pretend that was someone else it happened to. Can I be strong and stoic forever? I got a copy of "Somewhere in Time" just so I could have a good excuse to ball my eyes out. I don't like feeling sorry for myself.
My doctor tried to make me feel better. "It's too soon after chemo for this to be anything bad," she said. "I'll see you in six months." God I really hope she's right.
I brought in my Zune and watched a movie while they did their thing today. It helped. Not sure if it was a smart choice to watch "Crazy Sexy Cancer"but I only had 15 minutes left and I wanted to see how the documentary ended. It took my mind off what they were doing under the table. The hot pain of the lidocaine needles, the dig of metal into my ribcage, the snap of the vacuum sucking out my insides. All were slightly dulled thanks to my headphones and lack of focus. The movie ended and I was helped up. The nurse pushed firmly over the wound to squash the bleeding but also to keep me from freaking out when I saw the hole. Oops. Too late. But I didn't freak. In the scheme of things what's one little hole compared to a 2" scar on your nipple??!!! I'll take the hole.
It's been a rough day. Did I mention my Homeowner's Association is breathing down my neck? I got a certified letter today telling me I can't rent out rooms in my house because it's a single family dwelling and that if I stop renting they won't pursue the matter further. NEWS FLASH- single family dwellings these days are defined as three unrelated people living together. That's what I got. And don't you people have anything better to do with your lives than scour Craigslist looking to 'catch' me? My Prepaid Legal lawyers are all over this one. As much as I'm irritated by their Nazi-like abuse of power, I do appreciate that the HOA actually took my mind off canser for the rest of the day. Thanks, guys. I spent all afternoon researching the laws and combing through my CC&Rs. I'm ready to walk- head high- into our annual homeowner's meeting tomorrow night. That should be fun. NOT. I wonder if the person who complained will speak up if I'm present. Or will they be chickensh*t? Stay tuned....

Welcome To First Descents or My Week At Summer Camp

2010-07-05T00:26:00.002-06:00

So this part sucks. I can’t find a pen and have to type! 4 women in a tiny cabin, no bath, all with varying thermal temps and everyone but me trying to sleep. I want to write. Damn! Where’s that pen?
The light tapping of keys sounds more like footsteps in this dark silence. I’m exhausted yet inspired to write. I came on FD so I could have just one time in my life where a trip was for me- not work, not family- and just languish in it. But then there’s the part of me that can’t help but document this experience. I’ll say it’s for Sage. So one day she’ll understand why I left her alone with Daddy for a week while I went whitewater kayaking in Montana.

A year ago today, I was sitting on the roof of Ryan’s car, watching the Park City fireworks and wondering what having cancer means to me. At that time I had no idea what stage I was, what my treatment would be, whether I would see my daughter grow up. I was numb. I watched the lights in the sky and blanked out. I told myself not to think about it because there was nothing I could do over the holiday. On July 5, however, the wheels burned rubber. Like a leopard focused on his prey, I pounced on this cancer thing. I stopped contemplating a future (or better stressing about one) to deal with the here and now. The summer swirled down the drain- flushed like bad poopy as Sage would say.

One year later, I’m here, I’m strong, I’m ‘surviving’ and I’m about to punish myself in freezing waters for five straight days in the woods. First Descents out of Boulder, Colo., is a non-profit org that puts on something like 15 adventure camps a year for cancer survivors. Idaho, Jackson, Washington, Colorado, Montana, Utah. Rugged places if you’re up for a challenge.

My only luxury is Internet. We have to walk 5 minutes to the showers and toilets. There’s no running water nearby and no TV. It reminds me of my eight grade retreat to Yosemite.

Just yesterday I was bombarded by high-tech gadgetry. I had an MRI yesterday. The experience sucked. That’s about right. Took two nurses, several shrieks and three tries to get the IV in. An hour and 40 minutes later, both boobs were scanned and I was dressed and out the revolving door. I won’t have the results until Tuesday or Wednesday; I see my doctor a week after that. Will I be back at square one, don’t pass GO, Don’t collect $200 or will I be able to relax and feel like I’ve poked my head out of the woods? In other words, will I have to repeat last summer or not?

In a way, this trip is my last week before the news. Like a deathrow inmate getting his last meal….Or it’s a celebration of the new – I can’t say ‘me’ because I’m the same me only a little less cocky and a lot less immortal- so I’ll say it will be my homecoming. My new year; my Cancerversary. Please let it be this and not the former! All of us here – at this First Descents Camp – have some form of cancer. No one talks about cancer here. Not yet anyway. Not on our first day. Maybe we never will. This is emotional therapy by way of the physical. We get to kick our butts on the river, feel strong and come home with skills. We don’t need to deal with cancer this week. We have better things to do.

One year ago today, I wondered how my life would look. Today, I’m still wondering. Tomorrow, however, I’ll be stuffed into a plastic torpedo, forced to roll it over and swim in water only penguins appreciate. I won’t have time to think about the good or the bad of my test results. I’ll only have time to “be”.

You don’t get those kinds of opportunities that often, Sage. So I’ll understand if you choose to do something completely selfish and extreme when you’re older. Leave me alone for a week with your Daddy and do everything you can to squeeze life by the balls and make it scream in your face. You scream back, dammit! And for just that moment feel like you can control your fate.

A little about me.

2010-06-27T13:38:00.003-06:00

I've known about Frank Garrish's acting class for years but have always been hesitant to enroll. He's scary- or so I've been told. He'll make you cry. He doesn't hold back. It's not that I can't take the criticism but I'm hardest on myself so when I hear from someone else that I'm not measuring up, I double that criticism and get discouraged. The last thing you want to be in acting is discouraged.
I've been at it for as long as I could control my own life. My parents refused to drive me to auditions or pick me up from play rehearsals so I had to wait. I combined my ability to write with my interests in media and - no- I did not become a screenwriter but a broadcast journalist. You know those people you see on TV telling you the news every night? I did that.- at KSPN in Aspen, Colo. and at KUTV in Salt Lake City. Then I was laid off. So I addressed another passion. Skiing. I joined Deer Valley's Ski School and taught skiing to all ages and abilities. I have been skiing all my life- including a stint as a racer in college at UCLA. Came in 7th in slalom out of 36th. Not bad but my dad says if I don't win, it's not anything. See where I'm going with this? He poo poos acting too- If you don't get a role, it's not anything.
I absolutely love acting and the training of an actor. I have studied with practically everyone in Utah- Anne Sward, Geoff Hansen, Jeff Johnson, Catrine, Kate, Judy, Molly Benson and anyone else who sounds like they have something to offer. Not because I think they're going to win me a roll but because I can practice with my peers, grow as an actor and 'disappear' for moments into others' skin. If I make it past the audition and into a callback, bonus!
I'm SAG eligible. Got my card after five days as a featured extra on Doctor Quinn Medicine Woman. I had spent the summer in LA working for a talent agent at ICM (who's now president of Warner Bros.) and did the stint on the Dr. Quinn set. I moved back to Utah and scored more roles - Promised Land, Touched, I was the soccer coach in Return to the Secret Garden and have three national infomercials to be (not so) proud of. I've done a handful of short films and if you asked what I dream of when it comes to acting it would be to star in a (good) independent that wins raves at Sundance. I have no desire to move back to LA. Ick. I have a strong freelance writing career, an adorable 3yo, a hot, loving boyfriend (her daddy), a great home in Park City and I ski 70 days a season. Why would I want to give that up?
To be honest, I want to nail more callbacks. I'm hoping Frank's class will advance that goal. Please, Frank, don't make me cry too much.
Update: Frank's not so scary at all! We did some Meisnerish type things that got you out of your head, talked about acting technique and started to work a short scene we'll do next week. As I was leaving he told me "You did good! And you listen, that's important." It felt like my dad had just told me he was proud of me.

inspired to write....kind of.

2010-06-16T02:48:00.001-06:00

I've got a bunch of articles on my to-do list. Do I attack with fervor? Nope. My eyes are blurry from the day's strain and Sage's little kid voice- once cute- is now like fingernails on a chalkboard and she refuses to play anywhere but next to me. Why must her mouth move with the second hand? Just a moment's silence. Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is when we're dealing with a 3 year old. Ryan on the other hand is gleefully silent ...watching his beloved Celtics take to the court. Half my battle but why oh why isn't she downstairs with him? We've been cruising together all day. I even took her to my callback today. It's his turn.
Life really isn't that rough if that's all I have to complain about. Health is good, eyes are healing (albeit slowly), Sage is as rambunctious as ever without the five-alarm tantrums that could shake the pope's panties off, and I get a WHOLE weekend away to take in the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, VIP style. In so many ways, I'm due this trip.
My first summer outing (the two trips to Fruita in May don't count- it wasn't summer yet.;) ), I'm flying solo, I just had eye surgery, Sage has been strapped to my hip for two weeks because preschool's out, I spent three full days upgrading and reloading Windows 7 and programs, et al (anyone who has done their own debugging knows the stress), and I need the inspiration that only an outdoor fest weekend can bring. New friends, new sounds, gourmet food and 8 hours of silent nights.
Sage keeps having 'nightmares'. Last night was the first since San Diego where she didn't come screaming down the hall in hysterics, wanting to crawl into bed with us. For the past week, we've marched her back to bed in the obscene hours of the morning. She'd go back to sleep only to wake me up at 7 am wanting to 'cuddle'. Aww, how could I refuse? But 7 is unacceptable. I sleep till 9. Today, I slept till 9! Our 'chats' about not coming into Momma's room until you hear her alarm may have finally registered. Ya think? I don't want to jinx it but it's entirely possible that she realizes she needs her sleep as well. That or she wants the rice krispie treat I've promised if she doesn't wake me.
Gone are the days when I slept solidly and honestly believed I was a sound sleeper. Ryan's on a lame-ass stock exchange schedule that has him setting his alarm once at 5 and again at 5:30. I sleep in another room sometimes just so I don't have a series of naps instead of a good night's rest. I really wish he'd get a 9-5er like normal people. It does me no good to have him home by 4 as he winds up on the couch sound asleep for two hours anyway. At least if he worked bankers' hours instead of traders' hours, I could have my beauty rest.
And now for the detes you're so dying to hear about. The CT Scan raised a scare but turned out to be nothing... for now. We didn't move up the MRI but I did have an ultrasound to see if there was something that needed to be biopsied. The radiologist said she sees nothing then confided that CTs aren't the method of diagnosis for breast cancer. Hence, the MRI order. My doc confirmed that everyone was being just a tad trigger happy and my routine checkup should remain routine. It's like I'm living a new life this month. I get to go weeks without being handled like Mama Luigi's ground beef!
The next checkup is in July and hopefully that little 'spot' turns out to be scar tissue. The thing that does scare me is that the radiologist said if there's going to be a recurrence it usually happens near the original tumor. But like Scarlett O'Hara, I'll worry about that tomorrow.
Today, I focus on acting. Some encouraging words and signs in the past two weeks have lit a tiny fire under my ass. I shot a crazy short film with a completely adlibbed script for no pay but a ton of fun. My IHC commercial started airing (even Sage recognized me on TV). I had an audition for a short film and a feature where both directors complimented me and inquired about my experience, and I got a callback for an indie feature. The acting scene in Utah has most certainly picked up.
It's mostly low budge stuff that's calling out to our local talent but it's work and there are auditions every week. Indie films, short films, student films, local commercials. I just about cried though when I heard Catrine got her mitts into a film I auditioned for last week. The director seemed to adore me- and two guys listening outside passed me their cards and said they were working on some projects that I might be 'right' for! I went home beaming. But then Catrine gets wind of the project and talks them into having another audition to showcase some select talent. UGH. I'm all for a production doing everything they can to have the best shot at success but that doesn't mean I like having the wind taken out of my sails by introducing the competition. Who knows? They may still think I'm the sh*t. It's a tough role but one I would love an opportunity to play. Pretty much Sharon Stone in Casino without the drug/alcohol abuse. Hell, yeah, I can do that.
The call back today was a no-brainer. ER Nurse. I was born to play strong female roles. Cops, lawyers, doctors, reporters. Done 'em. It wasn't until I had Sage that I could even see myself reading for the part of the mom. Today, did not go as smoothly as hoped.
I walked into the room to find a very good looking guy staring at me. I did a double take. Not because I was nervous about the audition but for a second I forgot where I was! Obviously John was looking at me as an actor coming in to read for the part but for a moment it was like I was meeting someone from Match. He was all smiles and staring! I was actually confused. I looked at Tye shutting the door behind me and back to the table where John sat. Jeff (the casting director) lurked in the side shadows. Maybe the eye surgery went to my brain. Then he started to speak- to ask me questions about myself (as he skimmed my resume). We're chatting about mountain biking v. road cycling and then there was Tye signaling me to slate to camera. Huh? What? 0 to 60 in 10. And so I was on. Not a lot (or any) time to get in the zone. I can only hope that it was better than I thought. I let Tye rush me. Shame on me. I know better than that. And shame on Tye for not trying to help me shine. The upside is that he did the exact same thing on my first audition and I walked not expecting a callback. I want this part! It sounds like a great film. If you're at all curious, go to http://pelotonthemovie.com/.
It's crazy late and Sage just woke up crying in her room next door. I ignore her. Sigh. She's so sweet and it's all about being alone in the dark. You can't blame the kid for wanting a warm heart next to her. I get Ryan don't I? But at the same time, the late night terrors need to stop- for everyone's sake. OK. She's fallen back asleep on her own so I can now sneak off to bed without her hearing me. Toodles.

More Trouble Brewing

2010-05-18T18:14:00.000-06:00

So get this, I did a mammogram in January as part of follow up. The scan showed a tiny patch near where I had my surgery. Doc said it was probably scar tissue. But then a couple of weeks later I was having a weird feeling in my chest like when I used to live in LA and there were smog alerts and your chest hurt when you breathed. So the oncology doc ordered a CT scan. Everything looked good in the area I felt the pain but the little 'patch' previously seen on the mammogram raised more flags and now they want to move up my MRI (which was scheduled in July as part of my protocol).
I have sent an email to my doctor three times asking if she saw something on the MRI and should I be worried. Why do we need to move up the date? No response. Called today and her nurse called me back. I asked again and the nurse read the notes on the CT- small grouping of asymmetrical cells. I told her to skip the MRI and get me a needle biopsy. I don't want the MRI to put me in some kind of wait and watch holding pattern for months or years or worse be told I need a biopsy. Test the fuckers and tell me what they are; now. Besides, I'd rather get an ultrasound and a prick than lay horizontal for 45 minutes with an IV stuck in me. Not to mention the extra radiation. I don't get it. The chemo and radiation were supposed to knock out the bad cells (and the good). How could they have assimilated so quickly? It hasn't even been 6 months. ARRRGGGGHHH.

Birthcontrol

2010-05-11T00:17:00.003-06:00

So I'm thinking I must have been living in some fantasy bubble that's finally popped. I don't have a dream child. I have the child from hell. My dad announced today from the front passenger seat as Sage was engaged in a full-blown, mind-bending tantrum, “I'm not going anywhere with that thing!” And, so, no trip to Orlando this summer. I've always known that Sage has an eye-popping set of lungs but the outbursts ended as quickly as they erupted when she was a babe. Now, at 3.5, those throw downs sound out as often as the word NO and last for an hour. In fact, it's usually 'no' that instigates it. I've followed all the rulebooks- ignore the screams and tears, take away cherished items, never give in, time outs; nothing curbs the horror. Today, this morning, it was wanting to watch Dora. Because Dora wouldn't come on for another three minutes and she couldn't wait, she got worked up. I shut off the TV and told her she wouldn't watch anything then. Hoo boy. Screaming louder than a tea kettle and crying so hard she had trouble breathing, I dropped her in the bedroom, told her she could come out when she calmed down, and took a shower. I dried off to her thumping on her door and my mother trying to tell her to stop. I took over and she stopped pounding but she kept crying. “You can come out when you're done crying,” I told her. Eventually, she came out. That works when you are at home with no immediate plans but what about the car?
Heading home from Fruita last weekend, she lost it. Because we told her to let her food digest after she said she was hungry and she had already eaten a cheeseburger and a quesadilla (road food). She thrashed about in her carseat. We took things away from her. Her sippy cup, her stuffed bunny, her shoes, her jacket! She could get items back when she calmed down. Nope. We threatened to not take her on another roadtrip, we pulled over for a brief moment (but really needed to get home), we ignored her and talked amongst ourselves. No end. Then it was her pants, her shirt and voile she was sitting in panties and crying her head off about being cold with no sign of letting up to get her clothes back. We didn't know what else to take from her! After an hour of torture (on us), she literally passed out. All I had to do was insist on her shutting her eyes. In five minutes, she was sound asleep. Poor thing was exhausted. Three and tired, with a pending cold. Of course! But then my dad has to go and say, “No excuses. Stop making excuses for her.” Stella saw Sage in action when we visited in January and Sage refused to take off her daughter Alyssa's princess costume so we could leave for the airport. I saw concern, shock, sympathy, disgust in Stella's eyes as I shut Sage into a side room for yet another timeout while she tried to blow out her vocal cords. Again, she was exhausted from five days of convention walking at the SIA show. I'm thinking of my dad's words. No excuses. Just because she's wasted does not make it ok to sound like a five-alarm fire and you're being attacked by pitbulls all at once.
After today, I can no longer live in denial. I'm calling an intervention on myself. We need help. Even Ryan agrees now. It's happening at least once a day. At home, we can shut her in her room until she chills. We aren't embarrassed because the displays aren't public. Here, in San Diego, very public. We had a perfect 2+ hours in the movie theater watching Ironman 2; she comes trotting out all gleefully talking about how she wants an Ironman costume for Halloween. In the bathroom, she softly says she doesn't have to go potty. In the parking lot she shouts about how she has to have chocolate ice cream. It wasn't a scream. An adamant demand. I told her not to shout or she won't get any ice cream at all. "But, Momma! I had chocolate ice cream with Noah and Isaac!!!" She shouts. There was absolutely NO cause to raise her voice. But she was in the moment I guess. I told her well, that's it, no ice cream. And so it began. The entire drive home was a nightmare. I felt the way I did when I wanted everyone to see how awesome Tenaya was but instead she barked at them and they called her Cujo. My heart sank. But to tame the beast and turn her into one of the most loved dogs in the neighborhood, I used a shock collar. Don't think there's a legal one for children. DAMMIT!!! Sage was once again wiped out from a weekend without naps and 8-hour (rather than 12-hour) nights. No excuses. She kicked, screamed, cried, SPIT all the way back to my parent's house. We all pretended she wasn't there. No luck. My dad put down his window and told her he would roll it up when she stopped. Nope. Just made her scream about being cold and her hair getting in her mouth. She tried to undo her seatbelt. I grabbed her wrists. She spit on my arm and screamed. I swear the drivers next to us must have thought we were kidnappers. She peed on herself, then cried about it. We got home, got out of the car and my parents hugged me and said they were sorry I had to go through this. Then they ran. I carried Sage to the bathroom, changed her clothes, put her in the bedroom to calm down- which she didn't do for another 30 minutes. No ice cream, no swim, no bath; there went all the things she wanted to do today. I wish I had recorded the fit. You can't begin to imagine.
Once she calmed down, I sat her down and explained that we don't act like this; that others do not want to hear her scream and cry and that she's not going to get what she wants with ths bhaviour. Yeah yeah, you're thinking well she's getting my attention. But she gets that plenty without the screams and how do you explain the car ride?
She's sound asleep now. Been that way since 7 p.m. Poor thing's exhausted. No excuses! I'm picking up the book Love and Logic tomorrow. If that doesn't help, I'm sending a tape to Super Nanny. This has got to stop. Her preschool teachers have no idea what I'm talking about. Apparently, Sage is a little angel for them. Ryan says it's because no one tells her 'no' at preschool. I can’t believe that. Plus, I don't really say the word 'no'. Most of the time, what she wants is reasonable or I offer a substitute I know should make her happy. The "no" comes after the tantrum starts. Like with the Dora thing today. I told her she could watch Dora… when it was on in 3 minutes. I never told her she couldn't. She threw her fit; I turned off the TV. I said she could have ice cream. I didn't have a problem with that. She yelled, I said no ice cream if not quiet, more yelling then crying.
I want to go to Orlando. And I want my parents to see how great Sage really is. I want to be able to say no to Sage and not worry that I'm starting WWIII. Any advice? Bring it.

Off To Fruita

2010-05-02T12:07:00.004-06:00

Survived the longest tram line in history on Friday, skied insanely deep snow on the last day of April and the night skies are clear for some lovely mountain biking in Fruita this weekend. Just checked into the Balance Rock Motel- it's quiet, clean and perfect for an early rise and shine. We chose to 'rough it' after the weather turned nasty this week. The ground is a tad wet and Sage has a wet cough. Though she's in good spirits, and was really looking forward to camping, I decided to do the responsible parent thing and stay in a motel. There are only a handful in town (more in Grand Junction) and with the Fat Tire Fest happening this weekend, we got lucky. Three rooms left at the Rock. We were pleasantly surprised what our $50 bought us. The intermittent refrigerator whir is a bit disruptive but other than that, the bed is a king, the room is clean and smoke free and there's plenty of room to stash our bikes. It's pet friendly for a price but Tenaya's fine in the car. I'm just psyched that Ryan agreed to bring her along. The old girl doesn't get out much but this is the perfect roadtrip for her. Since one of us will be with Sage at all times, Tenaya can hang at a slow pace. She doesn't have to run on the trails or stay by the car. She also doesn't need to worry about over heating. It's cold! 29 degrees tonight. Though there are ample camping spots throughout the area, it's convenient and smart to stay in a motel when the ground is wet and the freeze cycle is still spinning. The days are forecasted in the mid 50s and partly sunny. Ideal riding weather. Ok I'd prefer 60s but at least it won't snow on us.
We left SLC in the middle of a storm. Snowbird had the best two powder days all season and I got to ski this morning. At 6:30 pm we were driving to Price. At 11 pm we had made it to town. Despite the Fest, the place was quiet. All closed up for the night. We saw stars. Loads of them. Whew. The dark streets slapped under our wheels from the dusk rain. I best sleep now. We’ve got a busy day ahead. Glad to be here. I like these crossover spring weekends.

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2010-04-29T20:15:00.001-06:00

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I Won!

2010-04-18T00:36:00.000-06:00

YUP. I was right. A good win (or three) definitely makes a difference. I'm happy- no, ecstatic- tonight. Just got home from the Mountain Town Stages benefit $287 lighter and two glasses of wine drunker. Great night. But my $10 in raffle tickets netted me $25 to El Chubasco, $10 to Granny's Drive-in, $5 to Kneaders. I won $500 in house painting for $125, $110 in dog poop removal for $47, $700 in headshots (includes makeup and stylist, 4 looks and 3 locations) for $80, and $267 in bike tuning, tanning, and 3-month membership to Park City Racquet Club for $25. Can you say "SCORE"??? Anyone want 5 tanning bed sessions? ;)
This evening simply capped off one of those killer Saturdays. Dropped Sage with a sitter, shared coffee and morning sex with Ryan at 10 a.m., picked up Sage and let her play in the bounce houses at Brighton for their end of season Beach Bash before cruising to the Benefit. Ah, the perfect spring weekend. Tomorrow we close out Park City Mountain Resort with Sage on the slopes and a spin on the Alpine Coaster before grazing the tailgaters in the First Time parking lot. You can count on them blossoming everywhere after noon. And so another season at Park City comes to a close.

Must Be That Time of Month

2010-04-15T00:47:00.005-06:00

I need to win something. I always feel better when I win something. For some reason, all day today I've been grumpy; feeling like I'm a failure- ok, well that's too harsh. Just feeling unsatisfied and like I've messed up big time. You know how you would feel if you got a C and were hiding it from your parents? Or you found out that the super cute guy who acted like he liked you really doesn't even know your name? Sage is fine, my health is fine, I skied powder today and had great afternoon sex when I got back.
PMS! Trouble is, I haven't had my period in months thanks to the chemo and Tamoxifen. My doc says it'll come back but maybe not until I'm done with the drugs…IN FIVE YEARS. My body must be faking me out. Talk about lame. All of the symptoms without the relief. So I need to win something. It helps me feel fortunate, excited, alive. I've won all expense paid trips (the most memorable was a trip for two including airfare to Vail and the Teva Mountain Games. My trip to Boston for the Dating Game doesn't count cause the guy was icky), gear (backpacks, sleeping bags, sweaters, shoes, skis), a kayak, a car rack system, lift tickets, hotel stays. I've even won writing awards. Ryan jokes that I'm the luckiest person he knows. Sigh. So why can't I feel lucky? It's got to be hormones because - aside from completely missing my massage appointment today- I haven't done anything wrong; not even scoring a parking ticket. You know what the next best thing to winning something is? Sleeping!
Off I go now. Toodles.

Why Can't The Ski Day Start Later?

2010-04-04T23:55:00.010-06:00

I should be kissing cotton- like an hour ago. Not only would it be good for my health but it would be awesome for my ski day. A full 7 hours' sleep AND the ability to get up at 7 a.m. for first tram? Now, that would be cool. For me, it's more like 5 hours of sleep and out of bed at 9:30 a.m.
There was a day last week that I got to Snowbird at 3:15 p.m. Yup, while everyone else was heading down the canyon, I was zipping up. Parked, booted up and got two memorable tram rides to close out the day. It had been snowing all day and FB updates rolled in about how deep it was. I couldn't leave home any sooner than 2:30 p.m. but I couldn't let the day pass without at least making one run. No regrets. That's my biggest mantra. Do everything you can so you don't look back to wonder 'what if'. I can honestly say that I don't regret any of the choices I have made in my life. Not driving all the way over to Little Cottonwood Canyon at the end of the day and not even dating the toxic, emotional vampires in the male lifeform.
Ok, I'll admit that I do regret staying with said nemeses past their expiration dates but, hey, the flipside is that I don't wonder 'what if' I had just worked harder? I gave each relationship my all. So there. With Ryan it's different. It's easy. Hope he feels the same. We spent two hours in my tub last night just talking. Candlelight, jets, bathsalts and a bottle of Two Buck Chuck. Ah the romance. The perfect end to the perfect powder day.
The Collins lot was packed but not the mazes. The angry winds threatened to blow us home. Should we? We wondered. Would it really be all that after everyone else had been skiing for the past two hours. It was 11 a.m. I called Alta from the car. "It's died down a lot from this morning," Matt said. All lifts running, fresh snow, what the hell? We beelined from Collins to Supreme which had been closed the day before when a electrical transformer blew.
Seven laps; laying down 11s you could spot from the chair after each run. We hiked Catherine's, did two in Spiney's, I even launched a little 5-footer off this rock into a puff of waist-deep. Surprised Ryan. Something just got in me to take the air. It was soft and joyous. By day's end the sun came out. Despite coating my face with Real Earth SPF 30 sunscreen, I cooked. Ryan, who had borrowed the sunscreen, also looked like a tomato. My first clue should have been the thin layer of white that never absorbed into his skin. The tube went immediately into the trash when I got home. My Smart Girls Who Surf After Lotion helped tons. Sunburn aside, the day was needed.
A powder day is always needed. Sage off with the sitter, just Ryan and me. Ending the day with the ultimate body buzz from the stress of your muscles firing with every neuron. I'm so digging my Head Jimi's. I didn't know if I could get used to a rockered ski but hoo boy I sure can. They scare me a bit. They are a breeze to turn from the tails (the backseat) and I don't want to be that skier. I want to ski centered, ankles and knees flexed, working from my core not my quads. It's no wonder these kinds of skis are so popular. You don't have to have the same skills you do on a traditional/non-rocker ski. It's almost cheating. The rocker tip and tail make the ski short and easy to spin-especially through the trees. Still, it'll be a Jimi day again tomorrow.
Another thing I'm psyched on is my Pistil Andina belt. I had to beg the company to send it to me. It won't be in stores until summer. I wanted it because it looked so cool. I had no idea that it would be the ideal ski belt. Made of some kind of cotton knit, it's soft, supple and pretty. No more droopy newschool skater pants! The only metal anywhere is the belt buckle but the distressed silver is a smooth concave oval that hugs your belly without jabbing it- even when your knees jerk up into your chest when you hit a mogul. Love the crocheted pattern of flowers and leaves in pastel and earth tones. The colors match just about everything in my ski closet.
I'm pooped finally. 1 a.m. with the alarm set for 7 to see how much snow has fallen on Alta and the Bird. I get to go to sleep with visions of snowflakes dancing in my head. Sweet dreams for you too!

A Gifting I Will Go

2010-01-28T10:56:00.002-07:00

The first weekend of Sundance has ended and if you stick around past today, you'll be one of the few. Everything, and I mean everything happened between Thursday and Sunday. There will still be premieres and other films to watch throughout the week but almost all of the gifting and celeb sightings will wane after Monday. In the past, there was that push to spread the events and hubbub to last until Sundance close but with the economy, it's back to crushing it on opening weekend.

I made a mad dash, therefore, to start my product march. I walked into the crammed Sky Suite at the Sky Lodge near Main Street and immediately started mingling and eyeballing the products set aside for VIPs. It was the final day for them so a few of the Suite's sponsors were 'gifted out.' Not so for the Perky Jerky dude who insisted I try his caffeinated beef jerky and handed me packets of the mighty meat. At home, Ryan grabbed my can of AXE Twist and you'd think he never saw deodorant before. With the new twist-down cap, the top won't get lost in your gym bag. Wish they had given me antiperspirant too. Ryan will definitely need the AXE Twist shower gel they included in my bag.
See, not everything gifted at Sundance is targeted for the rich and elite. Just those that dig pampering. I could barely squeeze past all of the cliques of filmmakers and pretty women to speak with the EOS people. EOS (Evolution of Simplicity-www.evolutionofsmooth.com) is a line of natural, affordable skincare products that smell great (not too fruity) and feel silky. Plus, they come in smart packaging. The organic lip sphere is a cute little egg of lip balm made with antioxidant-rich vitamin E, shea butter, jojoba oil, SPF 15 but petrolatum and paraben free. The brand new hypoallergenic body lotion is due out on shelves this month.
All this schmoozing was making me parched. I could either belly up to the Eldridge bar from New York City where DJ Spider was spinning or throw back a cappuccino from Café Bustelo (http://cafebustelo.com/). The company was promoting a sinfully rich hot chocolate (made with milk not water) and single-serving cappuccino packets. Between the espresso and my Low-carb Monster drink, I moved into mission mode for the ultimate coup.
Former supermodel Rachel Hunter fawned all over pieces from Italian jewelry designer Rebecca (http://www.testiusa.com/) and they generously lavished her with a double-chain necklace and $500 chunky stone ring. The brand creates edgy, sexy pieces in stainless steel, bronze and semi-precious stones. After the reps were done snapping a slew of 'Rachel' shots, the host turned to me with a warm welcome as if I were just as cool as she was. See, not everyone at Sundance ignores you if you're not in a film! I walked with a gilded bronze pendant necklace with a pricetag hovering around $600. Gulp. The line is featured at J. Brooks at The Gateway and Fashion Plaza in Murray if you'd like some hands-on shopping of your own.
Just as I was starting to feel extra special, AMC Theaters provided the reality check. AMC gave VIPs a premiere pass for free movie-going at all AMC Theaters for the year. I got a box of Gummi Stars and Twizzlers. Guess it's a good thing for me that there are no AMC Theaters in Utah. Two other sponsors at the Sky Suite payed it forward by donating to Haiti. Premium LG Group got celebs to sign a limited edition Burton-Corona Snowboard to auction off with a partner charity site. Giiv, gave away gift cards for Global Giving where VIPS choose from about 15 Haitian relief efforts.
One of the coolest gifts and giving idea came from Blanket America (http://www.blanketamerica.com/). One side of the blanket features Obama's inaugural speech (where he mentions "our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness"), the other, a true old-school patchwork quilt of 13 different fabrics representing our original 13 colonies. For every Patchwork Heritage Quilt gifted at Sundance, Blanket America will give another to the needy. Blanket America aims to provide 1 million blankets to our country's neediest citizens this year.
How funny I must have looked trotting down Main Street carrying a quilted blanket as I weaved between hordes of people in black peacoats and impractical shoes. I had 10 minutes to get to the Tweet House before they shut down for good. I heard Hitachi's G-Technology was gifting harddrives. Now we're talking...
Twitter staked out Park City's The Shop yoga studio for their multi-tiered showcase of all things social and digital. This first "Tweet House" featured daytime panel discussions, product-gifting, evening special events and performances with live interactive video broadcasts from the "Tweet House," on Ustream.com. The warehouse space off of Park Avenue was bumping for 'happy hour' but the sponsor tables were still manned. I snagged a killer vintage-style cotton shirt from Cohesive (http://cohesiveapparel.com/) before scanning the room for G-Tech. Lots of media technology from sound systems to web interfaces lined the perimeter. It seemed out of place to find Lift Kits insoles. The shoe insoles add an inch of height where no one can see. But I suppose we can all find amusement as the 'bigger person'. Plus, I always wanted to be 5'7". Ah ha! I zeroed in. Erin fervently shook my hand and introduced me to the Macbook-compatible G Drive mobile 500 GB USB. The sleek, white porcelain box -just slightly bigger than an iTouch - matches the latest Apple notebooks. The rugged, portable drive comes out next month and offers super speedy storage, rendering and backup(on a 5400RPM 2.5-inch drive).
"The Sundance Film Festival is the largest U.S. gathering for independent cinema and is the perfect venue for our G-Technology products," said Hitachi Global Storage Technologies spokesman Mike Cordano. "We are pleased to help increase the vitality of independent film and filmmakers, and expand our reach within the film community."
Everyone sponsor I spoke with said the same thing. They welcomed Sundance as the springboard to exposing them to the world. Can't wait to dive back in tomorrow.

Where is the snow?

2009-11-29T22:23:00.006-07:00

It's been long enough and enough people have asked how I'm doing that it's time to let you all know, I'm pregnant. KIDDING. The big, bigger, news is that my very last chemo is this Friday. That's it. Six down, no more to go! I'm more than halfway through radiation as well. In fact, if it weren't for my empty bank account and the rash over my left breast, you'd never know what I've been through. I have my hair and aside from having to drive to SLC daily for radiation, life is same ol' same ol'. Just this month, I've finished pieces for MSN.com, SkiResorts.com, Draft Magazine and my usual OnTheSnow resports, I've skied opening days at Snowbird, Alta (x2), Park City and Solitude, potty trained Sage (or maybe she just lets us think it was all me), painted my hallways and finally found a renter for one of my spots.
The end date for everything is Dec. 19. Talk about celebrating the New Year. You bet this is going to be one of the best holidays of my life. Hannukah's coming early to my house. :)
Some would point out that I was lucky but, to me, 'lucky' is not having canser at all (mispelled on purpose, that little fucker doesn't deserve to be spelled correctly). Having the 'the best' kind of canser? That's a consolation prize. Lucky that it wasn't worse, sure; but I seriously doubt that anyone would want to be me unless they also have canser.
Can I say that I "had canser" in 2010 instead of "have canser"? I wonder. I'm afraid to try it; like I'll jinx things and it'll come back. The docs assure me that I was 'canser free' after the lumpectomy in July and all of this poisoning is just a precaution. But I can't believe them. Once you get a canser diagnosis, your world changes forever. I didn't just get a tonsilectomy. I had someone dig through my chest then poisoned my cells every three weeks for nearly five months. Plus, I've always walked around with the philosophy of expecting the worst so you can never be disappointed. I thought that way all through college. When I got A's I was pleasantly surprised, psyched even; never disappointed. This does not mean that I am pessimistic. Not even close. I just choose not to get my hopes up until I have Tweetie in my hand.
So on my five-year canserversary, then I will breathe easy- and buy myself a brand new pair of boobs. :)
Now, if only it would start to snow, I could focus on something MUCH more important.
So how is everyone else doing?

BTW< I'm not pregnant and have no intention of sharing my love with any others outside of a pup, a boy and my Sage.

With Friends Like These......

2009-10-18T01:54:00.002-06:00

Ok, gotta sleep. Leaving tomorrow for Escalante for some canyoneering in Egypt 2. I thought I had a friend coming with me but it looks like I'm flying solo. Beeatch sent me an EMAIL (after I had called several times and sent texts over the past two days) at 4 today saying she was sick, had been since Tuesday and wasn't feeling well enough to travel. Why don't I cut her slack? Because 1)I first spoke with her on Tuesday about going and she jumped all over it. Not once did she mention she was coming down with something, 2) I made the plans around her schedule, 3) I spoke with her Thursday and still no mention of illness; 4) she never contacted me between then and today despite my many attempts to reach her; 5) when I *67'd her tonight at 10:30, she answered, sounded just fine and there was a party going on in the background. When she heard my voice, she hung up without saying a word and 6) I immediately texted her about how lame that was and she never responded. Chicken shit.
Funny, she spent about a half an hour bitching about how one of her good friends told her he couldn't hang out with her 4yo anymore because she was too irritating. He stopped calling, bailed on plans they had, blah blah blah. She was extremely hurt and angry. You would think when something like that happens to you, you don't turn around and be a total turd to someone else.
God I hate my 'friends'. Another one bites the dust. Why can't people just say no in the first place and stop f*&king around with other people's valuable time and energy? I could have planned this trip for a different time and with different people. You don't bail on a roadtrip the day before you're supposed to leave. It's just completely uncool. I had a cold on Wednesday too but it's not stopping me from hitting Escalante on Sunday. If you're truly sick at the time someone calls and invites you somewhere you TELL THEM THAT so that they can plan accordingly. If you don't want to go, you say that immediately. YOU DO NOT WAIT UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE WHEN THERE'S ZERO TIME LEFT FOR THE OTHER PERSON TO FIND ANOTHER COMPANION. That's just plain obnoxious and grounds for a baseball bat to the head. Ugh. Ok, I'm going to sleep now. Toodles!!

Where the Wild Things Are- FILM REVIEW

2009-10-13T00:19:00.004-06:00

Saw "Where The Wild Things Are" tonight. Sage loved it and actually sat in my lap the whole time without squirming. My little 3 year old is growing up! As cool as the scenery and the monster puppets were, though, there's not much to engage adults. The boy is a brat with no insight or chutzpah to communicate with the Things and help them understand how to get along and be happy. Max tries to order them around but he's often stumped and silenced when the Things call him out. Finally when he does confess that he's not a Viking King he has absolutely NOTHING to say for himself; no way to elonquently explain why it doesn't matter that he's not a real king. What impresses the most are the Things themselves. The actors (especially James Gandolfini) do a phenomenal job of bringing their beings to life-especially when the 1963 book never explores their characters. This film adaptation by Spike Jonz attempts to put some meat on the bones of a nine-sentence children's story about a neglected little boy who gets sent to his room without supper and finds himself in a far-off land where he finally gets to be the boss and the one showered with attention- even if it is by a bunch of large creatures who thump the ground and roar.
The monster-play in this movie script drags on and on and there's no cool moral that ought to hit your rugrats over the head with. Still, I did shed a tear when Max said good bye to the Wild Things. I hate good byes. If you've got little ones, take them to see it. They'll have nothing to fear.

Three Down; Three To Go

2009-10-10T02:20:00.001-06:00

I'll make this one a shorty seeing as how it's five minutes to 2 a.m. and I have to get up at 7 a.m. to do this breast cancer strides walk. Hope talked me into it. I'm not one for getting up this early unless there are killer yard sales or there're two feet of fresh snow at the resorts. The mountains in Utah aren't open yet (that'll come in Nov.) and it's too cold for garage sales. I think it was guilt that motivates me. After Hope's piece on Fox13 (see link in my FB posts), I received a few emails calling me an 'inspiration'. Huh? I'm just doing what I'm told and trying to ignore the fact that I have a life-threatening disease. I finished round three of chemo a week ago and am just fine thank you! Halfway through treatment now. Was a tad queasy last Saturday but that had more to do with lack of sleep and then doing nothing but sit around the house all day. By Monday, I was climbing and jumping on my Stair Master. The past two days have been spent researching the possiblity of doing radiation concurrent with chemo instead of waiting until chemo was done before starting 6 weeks of radiation (which, btw, would mean really f*^king up Christmas and January). I figured since I was handling chemo so well, I could take the extra punch. None of the doctors in Utah seem to be up on this little time saver so I've had to Google like mad and contact cancer hospitals outside of the state. And here I thought the Huntsman Center was state of the art! After my research it seems that not only is CMF/radiation together viable but it may increase the longterm survival rate by 10 %. Plus, it keeps me from dragging my treatment into the next health insurance calendar year. Any sane person wouldn't think twice. The side effects? They tell me my boob might not look as nice. Anyone out there can attest or deny this claim?The stuff I've read so far says there's no difference in looks at the 3 year point. You might be wondering how the twins are holding up at this point. Still small and perky. You can barely tell I had surgery. The scar blends in and there's no divet from the chunk of tumor they removed. Thank you, Dr. Neumeyer! Ryan can even squeeze them now and there's no pain or difference in touch between left and right. If it weren't for my head I could be 'normal' again. My head though constantly takes me on walks where I wonder if there will ever be a time in the future that I can say to someone, "I had cancer" instead of "I have cancer". It's a strange thing to feel like this disease will stick with you longer than family.

Getting Interviewed for Fox 13

2009-09-24T14:17:00.003-06:00

Ok, so now I'm a posterchild for Fox 13?? My friend Hope decided that since I'm the only person she knows with breast cancer, I should talk on camera. Hmmm. It took a while for me to say OK. Not because I don't think I have a worthy story but I wasn't sure if I wanted my agent, my 'outside' friends, those who don't know me but will, to know. Cancer is an extremely inconvenient disease. It may not be debilitating at the moment for me but it interrupts my life flow. It turns what was once easy (humming along day to day) into something difficult and it pisses me off. I really don't want to come across as bitter, angry, spoiled or negative. Hope said I was great. A great interview. Of course I was. Broadcast is my thing. It's the message I worry about. I guess I'll just have to wait and see. The piece is set to air before the Cancer Walk on Oct. 9.
As for the rest of my life. Peace has resumed. I'm back from San Diego which turned out to be much less of a vacation than I had hoped. Sage was like the fricking Energizer Bunny and I had no one to hand her off to. It was all me. No daycare, no sitter, no friends. My parents just shook their heads and turned away. That doesn't mean I was disappointed in them. Hell, if I was in a room where a kid was acting like Sage, I would love to walk away. It's just that I couldn't and she wore me down. Which in turn stressed me out because damn it I'm supposed to be doing what I can to get better. Stress does the opposite.
I also made the terrible error in judgment thinking that it would be fun to share a room with my daughter. Next time, she goes someplace else. At least then I will get enough sleep to handle the stress of the day.
I came home to some killer fall Park City weather. It's 83 outside with a cool breeze and vibrantly blue skies at 5:45 p.m. I lifted today and tomorrow I'll try to hike or climb. Best to enjoy the weather before it gets rainy and muddy.

2009-09-20T12:13:00.003-06:00

In between debugging my turtle of a laptop (thanks, Vista), I find myself constantly combing through stories of celebrity cancers. Are they dead? What did they have? What stage was it? Was it something complicated? Could it be me next? I can't help myself. It's like watching a trainwreck; sometimes I'm the trainwreck itself. Last year, it would barely be a blip on my radar. This year it means something.
Patrick Swayze gone. The news stimulates the hunt for answers. If it weren't for the obnoxious hematoma/bruise left in the crook of my arm by Nurse Ratchett in the Hunstman Infusion Room, I wouldn't know I have just had my second round of chemo. So I have to keep comparing my 'story' with others'.
The only side effects I had from the first round was hurling Chinese food the night after doing Eskimo rolls at the Ogden Paddle Fest; and the runs one day about a week later. Hair, check. Period, check. Energy, check. Pain free, check. Appetite, check. In fact, I'm stronger than I've been in months thanks to Patrick, my Huntsman personal trainer twice a week. It was actually pretty fricking cool that I had three weeks of no doctors' appointments and no tests for the first time in two months. It was almost like the scare was gone. I did the next round of chemo last Friday and suffered even less. I actually sent emails to my oncology doctor wondering if he was dosing me with a placebo or something. I couldn't believe that I had no dramatic reaction.
Just to prove I wasn't hallucinating, came Round 2. Talk about "pinch me I must be dreaming."
The stint in the arctic Utah Olympic Pool the day before sucked the buoyancy out of my veins. Even after warm wraps, three liters of water and a Lorzapan, nothing. They couldn't find a vein in my right arm anywhere. So they called in the big guns- a grey-haired grandma that yelled "stop it" as she unsympathetically shoved a needle into my arm prompting a terrifying cry to escape my lips. I bit them and the tears developed. The pain didn't end as she continued to shove. "Don't", "Stop it," she said again sharply and sternly. Apparently screaming as you are tortured like a drug smuggler in Turkey will freak out the other guests of Chateau Chemo. Suzanne Sommers blames the chemo treatment for Patrick Swayze's death not his pancreatic cancer. Chemo can cause all sorts of nasty side effects like stroke and leukemia.
My T-Cell count was low on the day of chemo. I was sent back to Huntsman for a Neulasta shot on Sunday. That's to stimulate your long bones like a femur to produce more white cells. Scary. I feel fine but I could still wind up in the hospital with a deadly infection faster than you can whip up a PB&J. They told me that because the count is low to avoid contact with ANYONE- including Sage and Ryan- until I get my shot. And here I am going to a Pig Roast outdoors with a bunch of snot-dripping toddlers who are drinking from Sage's sippy cup and falling on her in the trampoline. One guy there tried to talk me into a drag on his joint as if his next paycheck depended on it. Of course, I said no. Ryan on the other hand, seized the moment. The next day he complains of achiness all over and chills. So I sleep in my office for the next two nights to avoid catching something. I got the shot that morning on my way to the climbing gym. They warned me of deep bone pain as my marrow regenerated TCells. Never happened. Another placebo?? I did feel quite blah on Monday but chalked it up to PMS and the Park City rain. Today, I'm up at 7 a.m. and off to Legoland or Harbor Days in San Diego.
I know I'm not playing some character in a movie where everything is a prop and I can go home at night to a reality that existed before the diagnosis but I can't help wondering whether everything I'm going through is really working when I feel fine. Silly, I know. I should be thankful that not a soul can tell I have cancer; not even me. I shouldn't need to get rushed to the hospital to know I'm taking care of myself. That's just wrong.

P.S. Anyone who tries to tell you how they would want to be treated if they had cancer is full of shit. You don't know until you actually have cancer.

Cancer is unlike any injury, illness, tragedy you will ever have in your life. It hasn't made me a "better person" - I can still be a big bitch - but it's made me part of a tribe. I have a deeper understanding of what my brethren go through and a huge irritation for those who assume to know.

Thanks to my friends for dropping food at my door and taking Sage for a couple of hours on some days. That truly helps!

One Session Down, Five More To Go

2009-08-22T11:37:00.002-06:00

It's midnight and I'm scratching my head. I must have missed something right? I know that movies and the WE Channel often exaggerate but after three hours of chemo at Hunstman today the only thing I feel is relieved and suspicious; also a bit anxious because I know CMF can’t be this innocuous. That’s what Dr. Ward prescribed. A cocktail of cyclophosphamide, methotrexate and fluorouracil, which is also known as 5FU (my dad said that one used to be used to grow hair!). Ward choose this path because of the less severe side effects- a strong chance of hair thinning but not falling out, no neuropathy (loss of feeling in toes and fingers which can be permanent in some people), less nausea, no bone pain. Like a walk in the park, right? Both Ward and his assistant Rosie reassured me that given my age, physical conditioning and vitals, I was going to be one of the lucky ones who sailed through this pricky business. I can’t be easily convinced, however, especially not after meeting with 12 women at the Image Reborn cancer retreat who hosted a little show and tell of chemo horror. You would have had to physically walk over and lift my jaw off the floor to get me to shut my mouth. But what can you do? You go in with all of the ‘what ifs’, hope they won’t come true and you jump in. I wanted to get in the race. For three weeks now I’ve had thoughts of ‘treatment’ keeping me up at night. I thought after last week, my labs, my appointment for today, that I was all set.....until I wound up with bronchitis. Sage is sick too and Ryan’s coming down with it. Of course they would postpone my treatment. No such (bad?) luck! We were still a go. They made the call because I didn’t have a fever or chills and was seemingly on the mend. We’ll see what happens now. Nausea and anti-nausea prescriptions in one hand, turkey sandwich and fries in the other, I marched down to the infusion room. I couldn’t have asked for a better seat than the forest green leather Lazy Boy, Chair 10. Tucked back in the corner, I was away from the other chemo patients and their small talk, close to the toilet and the snacks with a closeup view of the construction going on outside the hospital (better than having to face the nurses station for three hours). Nurse KOD (seriously, because there are three Karen’s on deck) gently stroked my right hand and told me how much she was going to like my vein. Interview With a Vampire briefly skipping through my brain. She told it was perfect for the IVs, should go the six session distance (every three weeks) without imploding and safe bet I wouldn't need a chest port for the infusion. A port is a thin plastic tube which is inserted under the skin into a vein near the collarbone (central line) to feed the drugs straight to your heart. Cancer patients love their ports because there’s less vein poking and pain at each session. But with three weeks in between each dosing I’d rather take the needle than have a baby carrot sized scar on my chest. At this point, I insisted on an Antivan- anti-anxiety chewable to relieve dizziness a strong possibility for me when I’m jammed with a needle for an extended period of time. After the initial ah ah ah crescendo that turned a few heads, the needle was in and I felt nothing more. First drip the anti-illness drugs; then the 5FU which can cause cotton mouth and cold sores. (I’m directed to suck on ice chips to hibernate my mouth and make it less susceptible.) Next, methotrexate which will turn my pee yellow (how about purple? I ask, that would be more interesting.) I’m told to flush twice after every potty break to keep any of these toxic secretions from jumping onto skin. Even Ryan must wear a condom or wash immediately after sex. He asked me if I minded him visiting a hooker. I also have to be super duper careful about catching even a tiny cold so I told him hookers will have to wait until after chemo. My white cells will go down and down and down the further into treatment. Not a good time to get sick. I worry about this the most because I get colds easier than catching infield flies. Cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan) came last. Ths one seems to be the biggest Pac Man of blood cells- good and bad- and the one that leaves you most at risk for leukemia, bladder cancer and menopause. Oh joy. I’m supposed to feel the effects in 7-10 days. This is worse than waiting for BAR results! The whole process today wasn’t the least bit scary. There were so many nurses and aides talking at me, I never had a moment to fear. Then Ryan popped in after work to sit with me. He also got the crash course on chemo. My mom Skyped in and I showed her around the room, my IV and Ryan waved hello. Two hours later I was done. I walked out, perfectly capable of driving home (but I didn’t have to). We picked up Sage, went out to dinner then hung out and watched TV- nothing special really. After we got the girl in bed, we talked for a bit about other people, the stock market, needing to clean the house but nothing about today and what we went through. I guess it’s best to internalize for a while. Just take it all in and let it settle. Today was a big deal. On the outside, it didn’t seem anything more than routine and on the inside I don’t feel these drugs killing my little guys yet. But it was a big deal. I’m “in treatment”, I’m “undergoing chemo”, I’m “surviving”. That’s all heavy shit. That’s not what my life is set up to process. Drama yes, heavy shit no. I’m heading off to dream land now before I get weepy but not without nausea meds by the bedside just in case. At the same time, hurling that 10-pound burrito from Loco Lizard tonight might not be such a bad idea….. Some of my friends are figuring out ways to handle this too. The one in the earlier blog who ate my food instead of bringing me some decided to distance herself rather than step up. A friend in need is a friend to weed I guess. Ryan’s folks sent a daisy bouquet mixed in with lemons (ie referencing lemonade when life hands you lemons very cute.) Another friend has offered to stuff my freezer with homemade ziti. I’m thinking right around that Day 7 is perfect. And many many thanks to my ski buddy Louie who rearranged his schedule this morning to drive me to Huntsman. I’m not usually in the habit of asking for big favors that require more than a phone call so I honestly appreciate the effort everyone makes in whatever way they can. Now if I only knew someone who loved to do laundry.....:)

Welcome to Book Passage!

2009-08-14T15:29:00.006-06:00

Ok, so now I have a bunch of strangers, checking out my site on an projection screen. Hi, Everyone!
It's part of my journey on Book Passage- a Travel Writer's Conference. I barely hit my flight yesterday morning and, with heart pounding, I shot down the long, enclosed runway for the puddlejumper to Oakland. Today, I'm rested, fed and my ass' still sore. But I'm ready to be a better writer. Back to back sessions delve into the travel writing experience and bringing readers along; the plight between travel essays and travel articles; marketing yourself and your website ... or not. Stay tuned because after everyone looks at this I can guarantee that it will not be the same in the months to come!
No, no, don't worry. I'm not morphing into a different person, less edgy. less entertaining. I'll still be irreverent. I'm just updating the site and its use.

When A Friend Has Cancer

2009-08-10T00:39:00.007-06:00

At the Image Reborn cancer retreat I attended this weekend in Deer Valley, one of the ladies passed around a sheet and asked us to write down five things that impressed us about our friends and family and five things that didn't help at all during this time. I flipped to the later section immediately. I couldn't help it.

After my diagnosis last month, I did have a handful of touching, warm fuzzies:
Right after my diagnosis, my sister sent a beaded bracelet and Green Goddess medallion blessed by the Dalai Lama (?), a t-shirt to wear during recovery and a mantra to chill out with. Some people really surprise you.

But what you remember more are the negative instances. Like Dr. Phil's quote "It takes a thousand 'atta boys' to make up for one 'you're no good'; it takes 10 well-placed gestures to make up for one lame one.

You're in the midst of the worst reality you could imagine (unless you or one of your family members has been kidnapped and tortured) and when you call the troops to rally, you expect them to, well, rally. You remember those who don't. Sad but true.

When I asked my best friend for a ride to the hospital for surgery, she picked me up then pulled over minutes after getting on the freeway to ask if I could drive because she was too tired. So technically, I drove myself to the hospital.. in her car. When we got to the hospital she sat with me for 10 minutes then looked at her watch and said she had to go and left.

For the two hours between when my friend left and the parents arrived, I was alone and very anxious in a sterile, uninviting examining room. The next day, flowers (the only flowers I got from someone other than Ryan) arrived from a friend from Washington I hadn't seen in years. Though we speak every week, by email or phone, I didn't expect it. When Ryan walked into my bedroom carrying the bright blooms, I felt her hand reach out and gently touch my shoulder. "You'll get through this." I cried. I was pissed that my other 'best' friend couldn't surprise me like that.

I know that everyone has their side and their own drama to attend to in life but when a friend is dealing with something like cancer on the day of their surgery, you drink a cup of coffee and put your shit on hold for two hours. On the flipside, my parents cancelled their trip to Canada, got in a car and drove 12 hours to be by my side as they wheeled me off- and then as they wheeled me back. That still brings up tears.

You can't just say, "Let me know if there's anything I can do." You have to actually do something. Otherwise, it's cliche. In addition, we can't think of anything you can do for us when the phrase is first spoken; second, we know it's just something you say, like, "Hi, how's it going?" or "Bless you" after a sneeze so we don't put much stock in the offer.

The heart of the person who asked is well-placed but most patients are not going to take you up on a generic offer like that. Plus, if you do call later to ask for something, it's not the right time, they're too busy, they have to work, the car's in the shop, they need to sleep or Seinfeld is on.

I can't tell you how many people I called to see if they could go with me to my first doctor's consultation before Ryan took the time off work to be there. No one eagerly assumed a position by my side. I was going to go alone but the doctors told me I definitely needed to bring someone because I would be too overwhelmed to think of every question that needed asking or to remember what was said by the doctors. Ryan stepped up.

I'm not a victim and I rarely ask for help (primarily because I'm afraid of exactly this kind of thing). I take care of myself. Even Ryan wonders what he can ever do for me. But now I feel like I have an excuse to expect some handholding, cuddling, comfort, flowers, and extra effort. Don't I?

The night after my lumpectomy a friend came over with her boyfriend, swept in, exclaimed that they were starving, picked through my refrigerator, made themselves sandwiches, dropped the dishes in the sink and left. I actually thought she was coming to see how I was doing! Didn't realize I was a convenience store. They gave me a brief hug goodbye and left. No more than 20 minutes. Am I that much of a rock that my friends think this all would be cool with me??
To be fair, it was already a bit chaotic at my house the day after surgery since another friend of mine had shown up with her daughter for a playdate with Sage. It's was my bad first off. I own that. I had no idea what surgery entailed as I had never had it. So when my friend asked to come visit post knife, I said, sure, and bring your daughter. We'll drink some wine, watch a movie, the kids will play.... My parents thought I was nuts but I thought I was strong enough to handle it.
I had assumed that it would be a quiet time. Nope. Her 5yo refused to play with Sage and kept coming into the living room; Sage cried, the daughter fussed, all night long. Ryan brought food home for everyone and they slept over - less than 24 hours after surgery.

Ryan told me later that he wanted to ask her to leave but he was afraid to offend us. I wouldn't have minded really. But I would have felt horrible too. The whole thing was my idea in the first place. I just didn't know. I wish she had picked up that we need a break. I spent the entire next day in bed recovering.

I'm sure my friends have no idea I'm disappointed and saddened. They would see their 'efforts' as a grand gesture and my criticism as petty. Maybe. I just have a hard time thinking that it's not all Lifetime Movie for other women when they have this diagnosis and I'm jealous of the support they have.

If friends truly do want to help, here's my advice: Make specific offers- like scheduling a day to go to a radiation treatment, or take your friend's child for the hour they're getting it done or feeling low, or bring them food instead of eating theirs. Force her to go on a hike or climb a couple of routes so they don't get fat and lazy, take her for a pedicure, read trashy People articles to her. Don't make her feel like she's ruining your day. Bring a new pillow to prop her up on her weaker days. And, most importantly, if you do make a commitment, don't blow it off.

Here's a great example of stepping up: At my retreat some of the girls said they were in so much pain that the only thing that helped was something you smoke. Yet because they couldn't bring it on the plane, they didn't have any. I called my friend. How much? 'It's on us. I'm glad to be able to help.' The collective gratitude from the group was intense. You could tell it was appreciated just by the catcalls as several Rubenesque women ran naked under the full moon at the Deer Valley retreat house.

Share simple pleasures like a chickflick, a cup of coffee, gossip. Don't talk about medical issues unless she wants to and never ever talk about other people's cancer horror stories (we've gone over that one).

Your friend is still the same person she was before cancer, she just needs you to be present a little more, both in spirit and body. She needs you to be what friends are supposed to be.

Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.
Just walk beside me and be my friend.- Albert Camus

Kristen Gets Hitched

2009-07-28T12:48:00.004-06:00

My friend and favorite bachelorette finally threw down and got married. After 3 (?) engagements, she strutted her stuff to her man and said, "I do." Oh, the wedding was an odd one. Determined not to do it by the book (she never has in the past; why start now?), it began with Kristen sitting in the bathroom as the makeup 'artist' painted red flowers on the side of her eye. Her voice trembled, "I can't believe this is all for me!" You're kidding, right? The funny thing was Kristen in that moment actually believed that she was never treated like a princess before. If it were anyone else, I might have been laughing. Kristen's WHOLE life is all about her and she has had soooo many experiences of people taking their bows at her feet. It would have been the phoniest comment but Kristen is the ultimate actress- she believes her sh*t. She can be anyone else she wants whenever she wants and today she was the proverbial bride - in black, red and patent leather.

The setting was gorgeous. Someone's private home in Park City overlooking the surrounding resorts. The Brazilian drums beat and the groom, then bride, shimmied through the crowd dressed in freakish Halloween-meets-red light-district attire. Their friend Melissa read "The Naked Poem" like we were at a poetry slam, the Rabbi went on and on about something that really made no sense - even referenced Jesus!- then called the high priestess, angel, high queen...ME to start the series of blessings. I skipped up to the front, joked and got anecdotal, read a short 'blessing' which was more of toast for the happy couple of the hour and finished by wishing them lots and lots of sex. Made the crowd laugh. ;) Six others came forward with blessings of varying lengths. After, DJ Steve played from what they called the Jellyfish, poledancers did the garter dance, and, later, people gathered round for the firedancers and hula hoopers. The cops showed up around 1 a.m. and sent the burners (Burning Man fans) off to Summerween and the rest of us home.
My only complaint was the food. It was like I was at a Mormon wedding (even though they're not Mormon). Nuts, cheese, crackers, fruit and wilting shrimp
cocktail; tiny (homemade) cupcakes for dessert. I brought a bag of Tater Tots and passed them around pre-ceremony and became everyone's best friend. I actually met one man who had never had a Tot! He ate three. I devirginized him. :) To be honest, we were warned there would be no food but that's my favorite part of a wedding. I'd much rather eat than drink. I guess you can't blame Kristen. With somewhere between 100-200 people attending, it saves a whole lot of money serving nuts instead of chicken.
The whiskey ran out within an hour, but there was plenty of beer, wine and vodka with fruit juice or Red Bull. On my empty stomach, I got hammered and wound up being one of the last to leave. All in all it was a fun party but surreal as a wedding.

What Not To Say To Someone With Cancer

2009-07-22T00:19:00.003-06:00

Will everyone PLEASE chill on the cancer horror stories?? I'm a bit tired now tonight. Didn't sleep very well last night (4 hrs), spent all day at the Outdoor Retailer show, strolling along the aisles forgetting my life has changed forever and now I've had the shittiest evening of all time.
I took Sage up to Kamas for a kiddie pool party my friend was throwing. Over cake, she thought she was helping by introducing me to a woman who had grade 1 breast cancer like me. Except that after treatment and a clean diagnosis/prognosis from her dr, she got the same in the other breast and now has jaw cancer. Which means she's probably going to die sooner rather than later according to the radiology oncologist I spoke with last Thursday. Then, my friend described another friend of hers who died of brain cancer at 29 and another who has it presently, and finished by telling me her aunt died of lung cancer despite never smoking. As my friend Kristen put it, "What the hell was that woman thinking?!"
I got home, curled up in a ball in the corner of my closet and sobbed. This is not helpful nor what I need to hear right now!
I was doing fairly well for the last few days. Today, not so much. What I need right now is a good therapist, 100 other stories of how women like me live the same life span as those who never had cancer and a 2-hr pedicure/massage. Not conversations with women who can't get ahead of the eight ball or who die. I'm scared enough as it is, dammit. So please, make something up or at least save those dire tales for those outside of earshot. Thank you. :)

Ta Dah!

2009-07-19T23:53:00.004-06:00

All's well so far. Took the bandages off this morning. My mom acted very pleased and impressed with the job my surgeon did. I'm sure considering the circumstances there was no way I was going to look much better. But I looked down and saw this divot on the side of my breast that made me want to cry. I actually did when I stepped into the shower and no one could see or hear me. That's how reality hits you. Alone, in the shower, as you look at the aftermath of this disease. In an attempt to cheer me up my dad commented that my boobs never looked that great in the first place. Gee, thanks dad. He was kidding of course but tough love ain't always well placed. Boo hoo.
It did look a little better when I toweled off and, in a bra and shirt, you can see nothing different. From head on you can't even tell I had a piece of me scraped out. Only when you look down, over my shoulder. The skin fold is a bit more prominent. You can also see the crescent incision around part of my areola. I'm told that will heal to near invisibility.
When I undressed tonight I noticed that the swelling had gone down a little and the dent was less noticeable. I'm adjusting. Plus, it's way better than nothing - literally - considering a mastectomy was on the table last week.

Just got back from a dinner at Deer Valley for MountainHardwear media to kick off the OR show. At the top of the Wasatch lift in Cushing's Cabin, we dined on caprese and tofu salads and tons of roughage. Since I vowed to overhaul my diet, this is a great start. I haven't had a single French fry in 48 hours!
I made it through three hours of socializing and the boob's not bothering me yet. My parents are slightly pissed. They think I'm not taking care of myself. But laying in bed 24/7 just isn't me. Part of my recovery is getting back to business; doing dinner tonight and meeting with my peers was medicine too. I did, however, back out of the 10 mile hike they had scheduled at 6am tomorrow morning. That might have been overkill.
I opted for a shorter walk then meeting up with everyone for lunch at noon. I feel a tad guilty for not being more of an invalid. My parents drove all the way out here from San Diego to help me for the week but there's not much to do anymore. I'm up and about trying to work and arranging meetings.
I'm (almost) as good as new. I'm missing part of my boob and I can't lift anything with my left arm but other than that I can deal. Emotionally, I'll have bouts but you can't schedule those. My mom has been fantastic in the morale department while I was healing but now I'm getting lectured about taking care of myself. I feel like I'm back in high school where I have to hide what I'm doing or what I plan to do so I "don't get in trouble". I really don't want to lie in bed all week. I want to get back to my life.
What life will that be now? I can almost black out what the last two weeks brought. But then I look down or move too quickly and I'm reminded of their gravity. My life has definitely changed. I'm different. I'm not like everyone else, and not in a special way. In a way that causes awkward silence or thoughtful stares or false sympathy. I can't even say I'm a cancer survivor because it's not necessarily gone yet.
Soon, two or three weeks, I'll be radiating the crap out of it and then, maybe, I'll be a survivor.

I popped two lortab tonight to sleep well. Drifting off as I type.....

Surgery set for today.....

2009-07-17T02:28:00.001-06:00

"This was kind of fun," said the medical radiologist as he shook my hand goodbye. "I know it sounds bad to say and I don't think I've ever said this, but it's been kind of fun." I entertained him. The man who basically told me that if my cancer comes back, I will die, left happy. Well, that makes one of us. I had just spent three hours hearing what the doctors involved in my case thought and recommended; answering my unending questions about cancer, the prognosis, the protocol, the aftereffects and so on. I guess not every victim er patient is as charming and spirited as I am.
The concensus? Lumpectomy and radiation; bilateral mastectomy (with implants) later if I'm positive for the breast cancer gene. Surgery is tomorrow. I'm impressed by how thorough this process is. From the start it's like they've done this before or something. ;) One in 7 women will develop breast cancer and, depending on the severity (stage) and the treatment you go through, there's about a 15% chance of it coming back. If it comes back in some part other than the breast, you die in three years. At least that's what the oncologist sentenced. Gulp.
The other physicians and nurses say he was just trying to make a point. His job is to get everything the first time around and not mess around with trying to spare your feelings, your skin or your initial physical suffering. For those who couldn't face losing a breast or doing radiation for cosmetic reasons, take note. The end result of all this is that I take the knife to boob tomorrow afternoon. 1:30pm to be exact. They will cut out the tumor (2cm, Grade 1), send it to the lab for biopsy, test my lymphnodes for spreading and possibly remove any infected ones, then sew me up. I go home that evening and back to normal in a day or two....except that it's not like a normal surgery.
It's not the end of a problem but the beginning. In two weeks, I will have 30 days of radiation to make double sure there're no cancer cells left in the breast AND maybe 4-6 MONTHS of chemo if those little bastards have spread to the nodes. Chemo's the thing that kills everything- your hair, your nails, your chance for more kids. It also causes nausea and vomiting. Yep, it's bad. But it also kills the poison that could kill you, the docs say to make you feel better. So how did this happen? I asked a cancer nurse if there was something I did that caused the cancer. She said, "You're a woman." Wasn't bleeding once a month for all of your adult life punishment enough??
I wouldn't wish this on anybody but at the same time, I would never volunteer to be that one in seven. It really does suck and you have no idea how to deal with all of this information. It's not supposed to happen to me, I think to myself.
The post followup mammogram revealed a Grade 1 well-differentiated invasive ductile cancer. A lump in the upper left outer quadrant of my chest. At that point I could feel the lump- because I knew where to look; it's about the size of a hot tamale jelly bean. I am a bit calmer compared to last week. I suppose thinking about it all weekend, Googling and talking to docs prepped me for today. I'm sure I'll be a waste case once the path report comes back. All I can handle is the lump removal. Everything else is surreal. Mastectomy might be my only option if the genetic test for that breast cancer gene is positive. It also means I'm a candidate for ovarian cancer. This is all happening soooo fast. One day, I'm doing my annual exam, the next I'm possibly losing two breasts and two ovaries. I can't stop thinking about everything I have going on this month- OR and Ryan's parents coming to town on the 30th. We're supposed to go to Jackson. Now's not convenient for cancer.
Ryan's family knows and they're incredibly supportive. It kills me that I'm putting everyone through this storm. The burden is hard enough for me to bear. No one else should have to deal with it.

Finally the guts to share this with everyone....

2009-07-16T00:07:00.004-06:00

I woke up this morning thinking- wishing - yesterday was just one big nightmare and not real. That I could go about my day as if the bomb had never been dropped.
I have breast cancer.
Well, at least that's what the radiologist seems to gravely think after surveying my follow-up mammogram and ultrasound. 'It doesn't look good, I'm afraid' he said. Oh yeah- he kept saying he was sorry- like he had bumped my cafeteria tray or something. Your instinct is to say 'that's ok' but I held my tongue ... because it's NOT OKAY! And now it's the god damn fourth of July weekend and doctors have all decided that medical issues can wait.
I have an appt wed. with a general surgeon that may or may not take my insurance so I'm not sure if I have a 'next step' yet, even though I need one. I guess I could just pay for the office visit and find another doctor to do the surgery after Dr. Neumayer makes a diagnosis but then it would be like getting a second opinion and all of this is about time. Get this thing out. We don't yet know what stage it is, whether it's spread to lymph nodes and would require radiation or chemo or both. The consensus for sure is that a lumpectomy is in order.
I figure since I was planning on a boob job eventually, that they might as well lop the whole thing off and something good can come from tragedy. Yes, tragedy. That's how I feel. I always thought that if someone told me I had cancer I would fight like hell (which I will) and have that fiercely positive attitude to carry me through it. How the hell are people positive? I've been crying at the drop of a hat since before the doc actually broke the news. I didn't cry myself to sleep because I was drunk and passed out, but this morning the tears turned back on. This isn't me- this teary chick. And that hurts even more- to feel so doomed.
The thing that scares me the most in this whole world - death- is sitting on my shoulder. I go get this biopsy, they tell me it's spread, that I need chemo, the hair falls out, I'm sick and tired all the time, my organs stop functioning and I die. That's not how I saw the rest of my life the day I met the radiologist.
I'm supposed to be holding Sage on my shoulders at the fair, dancing with her at her birthday parties, taking her skiing in Europe, hugging her at her graduation and telling her how gorgeous she looks on her wedding day. I'm supposed to be arcing at Alta when I'm 80! Not gone. Not someone's memory. I don't want people to be sorry for me. I wanted them to be envious.
Could this all just be a scare? They take a lump out like people have cysts removed all the time? But the radiologist with his somber countenance and heavy tone crushed that hope. Ryan cried too yesterday. He heard it as well. Stef talked with us after and he said that made him feel a little better. Like we had a plan and it wasn't all death and roses. He's really in this with me. I hate myself for bringing him all of this 'life'. If he dated someone his own age, he wouldn't need to experience all of this. Poor guy.
I keep going through my head - was it the junk food I eat, the coffee (but over the year it doesn't begin to total what the average - healthy- person drinks), karma? But I never killed anyone.
I've always been a lucky person. Does that mean I will also be lucky here or that my luck's run out?

Thoughts on Writing

2009-06-13T20:39:00.003-06:00

I just can't do it. I wake up and still feel tired. I can't motivate to write. I can't do much more than surf the web. I hit the sack and seem to fall fast asleep but in the morning it's like I never slept. Is this depression? But I don't feel depressed. I do feel like I'm coming down with something. Two weeks of rain doesn't help either. Luckily I find bits of joy that spike sunrays straight to my heart. Sage's squeals and laughter, and this little comic strip I came across when we went over to Park CIty Bread and Bagels for bagels last week. To all of my writer and editor friends, I know you'll get a kick out of this one:

We're Not So Much Alike All The Time

2009-05-31T16:42:00.005-06:00

There's something uplifting about a doctor telling you your skin's still youthful as he's checking you out for skin cancer. You gotta think that of all the people that would deal you the brutal truth it would someone at the Huntsman Cancer Institute. But instead of shaking his head at my teen years of stupidity, and telling me I've aged like Robert Redford, he actually sounded impressed. The way he said it gave me the warm fuzzies. I thought about asking him to guess my age had he not seen my chart (and compared to other women he has seen) but I didn't want to push my luck. Besides, I wasn't here for vanity. I was here for sanity. Despite the scariness, I take advantage of Huntsman's once a year free skin cancer checks. My family has a history of melanoma. So far so good for me, but I can't ignore the damage I did before I was even 20. Basking at Malibu with nothing for protection but a string bikini; the only concern in the sun was when the bottle of baby oil got low. One time, I fell asleep and sunburt my eyelids shut! My whole front was so bad, my dad dunked me in a cold bath of white vinegar to neutralize the burn. I stank for a month and to this day, the smell of vinegar turns my stomach. You got it, can't stand Caesar salad. I don't remember my mom ever discussing SPF or sunscreen with me. In fact, I seem to recall she was the one who bought my baby oil. If only I knew then….. On me, tanning is a waste of time anyway. I could nurture a golden brown all summer but the minute I stepped out of the sun, it would begin to fade. By Back to School, it was gone. Kids these days are lucky. They have 'Fake Bake' and Mist on Tans. I tried both during the Sundance Film Fest at Conair's gifting lounge. I swear I got home and Ryan accused me of cheating on him. I had a sweet dark tan and a beautiful new hairdo from a celebrity stylist that was working the Conair room. The tan lasted about two weeks (the hair, eight. Thanks, Marcus!). Given my financial status I don't see me going to a salon on a regular basis to look brown instead of white but the tube of Sunless and Skinny (by Fake Bake) does the trick in a pinch. No way am I letting Sage outdoors without sunscreen. It's so cute right now because she actually asks for it before we get out of the car. She even likes to put it on herself. Ryan is the problem. At 29, he continues to worship the sun. I can speak out my a*^ and he will still skip the sunscreen, use 'tan' and 'healthy' in the same sentence and get on my case for being "white". No amount of statistics, reports or real life stories will smarten him up. Yes, my boyfriend is an idiot on certain levels. I can only hope he keeps his opinions to himself around Sage. While we're on it, he has the same basic attitude about marijuana. Ok, you can close your jaw. He even joked that his teenage cousin who's selling pot to his friends at school ought to move to California and get a license to deal medical marijuana so can't get arrested. Um, I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure there's not a state in this country that allows a 15-year-old to sell pot- legal or otherwise. Talk about setting an example. However, I can't tell you how many of my friends are married to guys that still smoke pot- 30s, 40s, 50s. And they ain't got cancer. Not yet anyway. Ryan stopped smoking around the time we started dating because it's not my thing. But his attitude about it not being bad or addicting or toxic hasn't changed. Yes, it's a hot button topic. I don't necessarily diss people who smoke; many of my friends puff in the trees at various Utah resorts but I won't date them. Anyone who needs a substance (illegal or otherwise) on a regular basis to 'take the edge off' is an emotional retard. Relationships are hard. Ryan's argument is that it's not as bad as cigarettes or alcohol. I don't date drunks or smokers either. Again, I worry that his opinions will sway Sage they way they have his cousin. If anyone can offer a way to debate this argument AND WIN, I'm all ears.

Time For Time

2009-04-27T16:32:00.002-06:00

If I can only get one thing done today, it will be to post a new blog.
Sounds like a mantra? I'm starting to search out there for a cure for what I have. I work and work - or at least I think I do- sitting at my computer 10 hours a day, every day (ok maybe it's 5 sometimes), yet none of my projects wrap. And then more roll it. When I finally chip off one, two more appear; like something from the SCiFi Network. I'm told I must have ADHD and Sage's pediatrician can help with that if I pass all of those determination tests. Turns out, I don't have time to take them or I forget and another week passes! Ironic. I can't get help for distraction because I get distracted. LOL.
Monday, the start of what feels like my spring. No snow in my backyard and the wild green grasses bud where the construction dirt from last year hasn't crushed them.
Sage's second winter of her life closes although we may still get in one or two sessions at the Bird before they close on Memorial. She skis now! Can't make the 'pie' to stop but that's what Mommy and Daddy are there for. The kid's got balance and absolutely no sense of danger on sticks. She hasn't had any big crashes and when she touches snow she just raises her palms up for me to dry them off (she doesn't like wearing her gloves when the sun's out).
Sage Update-
Sage is a regular Chatty Kathy. She sings and cheers along to Dora (yes, I know). At 2.5, she's imitating the things we say and do. This weekend she insisted on sitting in the driver's seat (my car was parked), she clicked into the seatbelt, put one hand on the wheel and searched for 'her phone' with the other. "Where's my phone," she asked. "I need my phone." FYI- handsfrees aren't mandatory in Utah yet. She loves being outside, sliding and climbing. Here are some recent pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/mtnmedia/20090422?authkey=Gv1sRgCLjOouXCtK6Sdg&feat=directlink

She'll eat anything if she's in the mood and though we never force her to finish, she has quite the appetite. Sage loves to entertain. I actually think she gets a kick out of hearing all of the oohs and ahhs when she runs up and gives someone a hug.

Ryan update:
Living together has been working out. Our schedules are radically different so that I wind up waking solo, the bed to myself. He leaves at 5:30 a.m. Ugh. Except that I stay up so late that I'm dead to the world when his alarm goes off at 5 a.m.
He still has his job at Fidelity as other heads roll past his cubicle, he plays in a hockey league twice a week, and does his best to pick up after himself and stay clear when I'm out of sorts. Easy going guys rule.

Jill update:
I'm into week four of my 8-week acting class and getting back into the swing of things. Every winter, acting takes a back seat to skiing, but now that I have time, I can play a bit. I even went to the climbing gym on Saturday. I'm still hunting for that balance between being a mom, working and taking care of myself. The latter suffers. I want to exercise more and find time for friends but instead I Facebook and blog. Sigh. Fortunately, I take frequent trips that fulfill the hole for fun and play. We're heading to Cali to see my folks the week of Memorial Day. Disneyland, SeaWorld, LegoLand and long lost roommates from college are on the agenda.
As for work, I've taken on the gig of Associate Editor for MountainGetaway.com and must file weekly reports on hot deals in the Mountain West. This is great because I now make the regular money I thought I'd be losing from Sports Guide.
I also have a giant assignment due next week for National Ski Patrol Magazine and am waiting to here back on two assignments for Sunset Magazine.

Ok, that's life in a nutshell. More to come when I feel inspired! Hope you are all happy, well and shedding those winter shells.

A Moment of Sun

2009-03-30T18:15:00.005-06:00

My parents arrived on Saturday to see Sage and spend a spring week in Park City. We did the Smith's rotisserie chicken and some taters thing last night, watched Forbidden Kingdom and off they went into a blizzard to get back to the Westgate Hotel. The call came just minutes later.
Ryan took off (in my car ;) ) with a shovel in hand to dig them out. My mom said she drove the rest of the way back to the Westgate at about 5mph and whiteknuckling all the way. Poor people. Coming from San Diego, they're not used to winter driving. To them, this is 'bad' weather. To skiers, we're in heaven. But, careful what you wish for.
I begged for "one more powder day" and I got two weeks of it! Ryan even took a vacation day from work to play in it last week. I've skied three of the best powder days of the season last week at Snowbird - even filmed at Brighton with Ritchie on Friday with waist deep swirling around me. Yeowza. The driveway had to be plowed three times in the last 24 hours. Need I go on? By Saturday, I was definitely ready to spend the day on the bunny hill with Sage and watch the pond skimmers.
Props to Ryan for being a major gentleman and rescuing my folks when they got their rental car stuck in a snowbank last night. The snow got deeper and deeper throughout the day and, instead of letting up like we thought, it got worse after dinner.Ryan was everyone's hero. I stayed back to watch Sage and clean the kitchen. God how traditional does that sound? When it comes to digging and pushing out a car, he wins. I'm still not changing my mind about his assuming that my car is his (it's not) or him wanting to lean on me before he tries to solve his own problems but I'm no longer angry.
Boy, was I fuming. I did wind up loaning him my car; he thanked me when he got home and I explained that it wasn't the car but his eager willingness to inconvenience me without ever attempting to find a better option (like getting a ride from a co-worker). I told him all he needed to do was to show he had made at least SOME kind of effort. BIG BUTTON issue. I have enough to do in my life without having to deal with damage control of his issues too (at least not before he tries to take care of them himself). We'll see what happens next time, of course, but today, he's my dreamboat again.
Gotta hit the shower now.I took my parents snowmobiling at Deer Valley's Garff Ranch and then we cruised through Kamas like tourists- buying home-smoked jerky and shopping at the New West Country Store. I dropped them at their hotel so I could grab Sage from the sitter's, shower and head back out for dinner. Whew. The last time they were here (a year ago), they complained of boredom. This time, they'll go home needing a vacation! :)

What Should I Do?

2009-03-18T22:47:00.010-06:00

Ok, so maybe I'm the biggest bitch on wheels but I can't stand the fact that Ryan can't think or act for himself. It's like he assumes I've replaced his mommy but I'm not his mother and never will be. I don't exist for him; I don't exist to coddle him and make life easy for him. If I wasn't around, sure, he would find a way to handle trials on his own but because I am around and I'm good at navigating life, he sits back and lets me drive. I DON'T WANT TO DRIVE when he can. And, in this case, he can!

His car broke down tonight and he had it towed to a shop that told him it might be fixed tomorrow afternoon. So he spends all night playing hockey and drinking beer with buddies instead of finding a way to get to work in the morning. Why? Because he expects to take my new car and leave me at home all day. Sometimes I never leave the house so I wouldn't miss my car - but that's by choice. The fact that he had plenty of time to contact a co-worker who lives right around the corner from us and who could have given him a ride, leaves me livid. All because he doesn't want to get his ass out of bed a half-hour earlier in the morning?! If I was in the same sitch I would do whatever was easiest for everyone. I would, in fact, get up and catch a ride.
Of course, those who know me are saying, "Riiiight, Jill does what is easiest on her." Yes, to an extent that's true. But I also figure out a way to deal with a situation that makes the most sense for everyone. For example, I don't ask random people for a ride to the airport. I ask around to see if someone is already heading in that direction. If I couldn't get him to the airport, Ryan would park his car at the ParknJet even if it meant paying for a week there before he would try to find a ride. Instead of borrowing Ryan's car all the time while mine was getting fixed, I rented from Enterprise and they picked me up. If I'm hungry, I make myself something to eat. If Ryan's hungry, he'll order delivery or drive somewhere and buy himself dinner before he'd make even a sandwich or can of soup. He's wired to expect me (or women in general) to take care of him.

It would have been easier for Ryan to simply get a ride from someone who is already going in to his office but he's being selfish and expects me to enable his laziness. He'd rather assume I'll come to his rescue than for him to go out of his way and make some phone calls.
This is the same sh*t he did when he got his DUI and lost his license FOR THREE YEARS. He expected me to chauffeur him around instead of trying to catch rides from those heading in the same direction. In fact, there were more than a few times when I called MY friends and asked them to give him a ride because he "didn't want to impose on anyone." But it's ok to impose on me? Why is it that being a girlfriend means getting the raw end of the deal? Is it too much to ask to be treated the way he might treat a friend? With concern over imposing? Granted, the definition of "relationship" is 'never feeling like you're imposing' but that attitude truly sucks.

Would Ryan do the same for me?
The answer's yes. If I needed his car- for whatever reason- he would have me drive him to work (at 5:30 a.m.), drop him off and take his car. He wouldn't think twice about it. Wait a minute! Would he call and get a ride in to work and leave his car for me? Uh Uh. So I guess we can't say he'd do the same for me. Anyway, back to the analogy- he lends me his car when I won't lend mine. If it were that simple (and it NEVER is), of course he could take my car and I stay home for a day. The point I'm trying to make is that it's not about the car. It's about his unwillingness to use anyone but me. If he had made even a little effort to find a ride, I would have been willing to help. But no, he goes out and f*7ks around all night then comes home and asks for my car keys.
I've never been much of a sharer so you can't take my stuff without my permission and assume it's cool and you can't guilt me into giving it over. (Which he is now relentlessly doing.) I have to want to share.

He wants - and expects - me to carry his ass and it drives me nuts. Why are the men I date so unresourceful and ineffective?? I guarantee you that he plans to call in sick tomorrow rather than get up early and call his friend for a ride; just to try to make me out as the bad guy and subsequently blame me for the reason he lost a sick day. After six years, I know that program.

5 minutes later:

Looks like I was right (of course). He just walked into my office to announce he's "going to be hanging out" with me tomorrow. He's calling in sick.
What do I do, people? Let him lose the day and forever be the crappy girlfriend? Or give in and enable him to pull this act yet again?

Is Winter Over?

2009-03-16T01:10:00.004-06:00

Totally fun weekend but I'm making this short and sweet cause this damn site just jettisoned my beautiful entry and forced me to rewrite everything- which I won't. No new snow since Tuesday. All's heating up super quick and super sick. Did a PSIA clinic up at Powder Mountain today and got a peek at the final day of the SuperFly snowkite event. If Pow wasn't two hours away, I might try to get back up there before the snow's gone and take a kite lesson. Powder is the first resort to designate a dedicated zone for snowkiting and Best Kites has set up a demo and training center up there for seasonal flying.
Groomers were sweet and soft. Off-piste, not so much. Yet our group leader forced us into the muck. Something about how it brings out the best in us because it forces you to focus on what your feet and legs are doing to survive. Riiiiight. Chunky, unforgiving, leg-turning rotten crud. It began to mush up by 2 p.m. and be more like spring slush but only had one run left in me by then. Now't he best time to take the tot skiing. Everytime Sage sees me dressed for the hill, she asks to come along. We finally took her up to Silver Lake Village at Deer Valley where I knew we could easily play on the magic carpet up there. She had a blast and so did we. This was her first time skiing in front of me (I skied backwards to keep her from taking off down the hill).
More to come I'm sure now that it's sooooo warm out.

Solitude is the Bomb!

2009-02-14T01:49:00.002-07:00

I am so ashamed! Ashamed that I haven't stopped in to ski Solitude until now. I love that resort and yet it stands like PlanB whenever I'm packing up the gear for a day out. Shame on me! I know better. Solitude is the place to head when it dumps all night. Little Cottonwood Canyon will either be closed first thing in the morning for avi control or there's a snakelike slither all the way up to the parking lots for Snowbird and Alta because, well, that's where everyone seems to gravitate towards.
On the other hand, Solitude is smooth sailing. Rarely does the road close and even less frequently is there traffic. Plus, there's never a wait in a lift line and plenty of fresh lines to be had long after the other resorts are tracked out.
I hit it early this week after the first series of storms washed through the Wasatch. Wahoo! I had the place to myself. Ski-on rides at all of the lifts and not a soul to cross my path.
Some may complain that most of Solitude's chairs (especially the ones toward the summit) are ancient and slow but when you're not standing in a line and letting your legs unflare, high-speed quads can be the death of you. I say you need the rest.
My day at Solitude began straight out the gates at Powderhorn into Honeycomb's Black Forest. I had my choice of tree shots and face shots. I had a powder 'stash on my face all the way to the Honeycomb Express lift. The snowy weather turned to heavy at times by the afternoon, yet most of the resort was open for skiing. Only Evergreen was closed. Run after run, I hooted to myself, bemused that others weren't in on my secret. How could this be?
I finally waited at the bottom of Powderhorn until I had someone to share the lift with (I was getting kind of lonely). A patroller skied up and took me under his wing. He guided me through two outrageously ripping runs under the lift just before the mountain closed for the day. His Igneous rockers blew up cold smoke as I hunkered down and tried to keep up. My spirit soared. This is how a real ski day in Utah feels. As I waved bye and beelined for the parking lot, I thought, I'm coming back tomorrow for sure. I may have been late to rediscover Solitude but I wasn't done after just one day. As a matter of fact, my boyfriend, who has a pass to Alta, is gunning for Solitude today instead. It's a holiday weekend and it snowed last night. Duh. Smart skiers go to Big Cottonwood on these days. He's not about to waste precious turns waiting for the Canyon to open or standing in gigantic liftlines all day long. Solitude is the call.

P.S. A cute new mini mart just opened in BCC. Kickers Backcountry Market is the perfect place to grab a drink or coffee for the ride home. It's filled with tasty snacks and pastries from Beverly Hill's Cakes in Salt Lake City and the new owner loves to chat so pop in and say hi. They also carry your mountain basics in case you forgot something at home like your goggles, backpack, water, handwarmers, etc. Kickers is on your left, just before the Silver Fork Lodge as you head down the Canyon.

How I Got My Tan - Part 1

2009-01-21T03:10:00.003-07:00

I left home this morning at 9 a.m. and returned at 11 p.m. with a brand new haircut and tan. My boyfriend wondered if I was cheating on him. I had started the day with a screening of Moon- an intriguing portrait of a man trapped on the moon while he completed a three-year contract with a solar energy firm. Sam Rockwell pulled off a brilliant Tom Hanks ala Castaway impersonation but added a sci-fi twist to it. After, I clawed my way through the intense Park Avenue traffic to the middle of Main and the Harry O's complex where the Rock Band Lounge was in full swing. Not real rock bands there but Rock Band- the game- stood center stage; the one I sucked at during a Best Buy demo this Xmas when I tried to follow along on the electronic drums and some 8-year-old stepped up and schooled me. I’m no musician and after about a month of Rock Band’s competitor, Guitar Hero (and a strained shoulder), I knew this wasn't my kind of game. Still, it was fun watching others have fun as they rocked on fake instruments singing and pretend strumming/beating to the songs on the TV screen behind them (and on the monitors in front).
The Lounge, formally The Marquee, was noticeably low key this year. Was it hard to find sponsors? I asked one of the coordinators of this gifting suite. "Impossible," she answered, shaking her head. The economy had forced corporations to back out of deals and bail on the Festival. There was plenty of room now to maneuver among the companies present and time to spend with each representative.
First, I was marched over to KangaROOS (http://www.kangaroosusa.com/) where they were gifting to men, the Walter Payton Limited Edition basketball shoe. The retro shoe company that faded into obscurity in the mid 80s is back with side pocket and all, and using Sundance to help relaunch their US line. I snagged a pair of Tort 2 distressed velvet mid-cut shoes with Velcro closures that looked like a classic black Hollywood bootie.
Lia Sophia (http://http://www.liasophia.com/), the home-based jewelry business, returned to showcase their 2009 Cape Town Collection of animal prints and mixed metals. Tt Mates (http://http://www.ttcollection.com/) had a handy product- Supima cotton undergarments (camis and leggings), oh so soft and perfect for chilly days and nights. I reached out and bagged a yummy smelling Ecoya sweet pea and jasmine soy candle as I walked over to graphic artist Omar Vega and his line of new T-shirts called No Love Lost (http://www.fuckthatbuythis.com/). He aims to create works of art on his shirts so the public can view what the artist's perceives. Essentially, he's taking the art and political thought out of the galleries and putting it on our chests to reflect what's on the minds of today's "forward thinking" people. I pounded a bottle of low-cal Muscle Milk Shake before I hurried out and headed to the Hollywood Life House. The suites typically close by 6 p.m. It was 5 p.m.

More on how I got my tan in the next report...

Three Fests in One

2009-01-19T16:15:00.006-07:00

The way I see it, Sundance is really three festivals. There's the film part. You go up to Park City, have a movie marathon until your butt can take no more, then you take a couple of pain killers and keep watching. With screenings from 8 a.m. until 11 p.m. you can be scheduled out the entire time. There's the party part. This is not an all day thing but rather an all night thing starting at around 4 p.m. each day. Every movie has its premiere party; every production company like IndieVest hosts a party, often, companies like Kenneth Cole, Gen Art, and Vitamin Water do it up big- usually at private homes where they can go till 3 a.m., take some painkillers and keep partying. Hence, you are wasted for any of the daytime activities; and then there is the gifting part. An all day traipse up and down Main Street, hauling paper or eco-friendly sacs a forearm thick.
Sundance organizers frown on gifting as they see it disrupting the creative process and turning their event into something of a corporate commercial enterprise. Plus, those doing the gifting are outside the sponsor realm. Marketing firms set up "houses", "lounges" and "suites" around Park City and rent out booth space to boutique companies, promising their products exposure from A++ celebrities and media attending Sundance yet they don't give any money back to support the Festival itself. Plus, they're terribly exclusive and off-putting to the average festival goer.As I sat next to Jeff Best at the MySpace Cafe in the Village at Sundance, I heard him lament about the transformation of his brainchild. Best Events took the Town Lift project and turned it into a mini Hollywood gifting village for four years, dubbing it the Village at the Lift. After the same number of years of contention with festival organizers, Best caved for the greater good. After all, his number one plan all along was to show support for the film industry and if it helps everyone get along, he's willing to play nice. But while we sat munching on scrumptious cheeseburgers (better than you would get if you paid for it at the actual restaurant taken over by MySpace for seven days), and the paparazzi angled for a better shot of Paris Hilton in the booth behind us, he dropped his head and spoke about the financial hit he took. "I had sponsors in line for this year but when I told them they also had to be official Sundance sponsors as well (and pay the official pricetag and no gifting allowed) they backed out," he said. It's often too much money to go mainstream with not as much promise for celebrity exposure.They found other places to go- Fred Segal, one of the VAL's anchor 'stores', joined the Village at the Yard on Kearns Blvd. for five days of gifting products you typically see in their store- Retro Brand with their vintage sports team and college logo T-shirts, skate and urbanwear by Hurley, George, Gina and Lucy eccentric yet chic handbags, Undun eco-denim, Nightcap primo cottonwear. K-Swiss shoes and more. The Yard also started their own café courtesy of T-Mobile. Nickelodeon nabbed some first-class acreage across from Fred Segal to celebrate the 10th Anniversary of SpongeBob Squarepants and next door to them was drugstore.com, gifting travel essentials like bronzer, shampoo, Advil, Alka-Seltzer and Chapstick. Living Proof showcased a line of no-frizz hair products by having stylists blow and style your do. I had a brief conversation with Eliza Dushku (star of the new series Dollhouse) about snowboarding in Utah while they primped her for her movie premiere. She says she'll be skiing from now on as she's not too keen on pain. The conversation started because she noticed my luscious Scope Zip Hoody from Oakley and said she picked out the exact same one at the Oakley House during their Learn-To-Ride event over the weekend. Yep. I was there.
Oakley organizes these Learn-To days for celebs and VIPs who want to learn a sport from snowboarding to motocross without the hassle of going through the public process. It's an intimate setting with Oakley products and athletes and a one-on-one introduction to both to ensure they have a positive experience.
Singer/songwriter Kelly James escorted me onto the bunny run at Park City Mountain Resort for an unofficial snowboard lesson. He was a sweet guy; extremely patient. He spent a few runs with me and then kicked me out of the nest. Luckily, I had already had time (last year) with a 'real' instructor at Brian Head and the few great tips Kelly gave me made sense. I felt sorry for Eliza as she should have had a professional instructor first and not a professional boarder. Those who 'can', can’t necessarily teach. But whether we could ride, we sure did look good.
Oakley's gifting centered around the Gretchen Bleiler signature line of women’s snowboard apparel. The line, designed by the 2006 Olympic Silver medalist and S Games champ rocks. It fits flatteringly well, the colors pop, and the details make sense for the most part (except that I wasn't wild about the giant belt and buckle at the bottom of one of the jacket styles). Even her signature goggles sit well on the smaller frame of a woman's face.
Beyond the Oakley House (which was located way off Main in Park Meadows), some of the usual suspects still turned up on Main.
In order to try to get a little taste of all that is Sundance, I find myself like a chicken with its head cut off; running in all directions, not sure where to go next and just missing someplace I 'should have been.' The horrific traffic doesn't help. The police have blocked off Heber Avenue so there's no way to get from Park Avenue to Deer Valley Drive without heading up Main Street.

(Look, Ma, I'm snowboarding thanks to Oakley)

Coming down Swede Alley or Deer Valley Drive is the nightmare-especially if it's past four.

Avoid, avoid, avoid driving in Park City right now and park and ride the bus. You also need to get creative. I went into the Yarrow and was able to find a hotel guest who gave me his parking pass. Another girl I met, whipped out a handicap pass and her cane for VIP parking. A taxi driver picked me up after I stuck out my thumb. I got in when he said he was going my way and wouldn't charge me. Turns out he and his son are driving for his friend's cab business and pulling in $400 a day. Next year, I'm coming back as a cabbie!
I've set small goals for myself. Two suites a day, one movie a day and one party a night. So far so good. And lucky me, each movie has been noteworthy- Moon, Humpday, Max and Mary, September Issue and Adam. Both Moon and September Issue had been flukes. I showed up at the theater expecting different films but they had been switched last minute. September Issue about the making of Vogue's Fall Issue impressed me with its storytelling, infusing warmth into Editor Anna Wilson a compact woman with a cold as ice reputation. Moon, with Sam Rockwell, was supposed to be Castaway in space but instead turned out to be a compelling sci fi tale about a man whose last weeks on the moon turn into a nightmare of diabolical discoveries and thoughts on the humanity of man and machine. There's more to tell but I must get some sleep.

FYI, the major push for the Fest is over now and though the coming weekend will bring another rush of celebrities, it'll be nothing like it was last weekend. Now's the ideal time to see a movie (lots of tickets are still available) or get into a party. Chat chat chat. That's how. We went to a party for "Carmo, Hit the Road" Monday night and a woman handed us invites to the closing party at the Queer Lounge on Wednesday. Earlier, I ran into an old friend from my Deer Valley teaching days who promised to get us into the Kodak party Tuesday night. The parties are last on my to-do list but may be first on yours. If so, get some sleep, dress warm and hit the pavement by 4 p.m. for the intel.

Breakfast at Sundance

2009-01-16T12:51:00.002-07:00

I'm going to make this quick as I'm about to get the boot from the T-Mobile Diner at the Village at the Yard (on Kearns). Apparently, they're hosting a VIP luncheon for the filmmakers of the Killing Road. I'm not on the list. Go figure. lol. Breakfast was a lot of fun- texting my drink order via the new G1 phone and slamming down eggs and taters next to Kevin Sorbo and his gorgeous little girl. I'm bringing Sage in for sure. She would love the scene around here. Especially the Sponge Bob corner. On Sunday the cast is doing a live reading of one of the SB episodes. Talk about bedtime stories!
Well it's off to my first round of gifting. Wish me luck! BTW, I was right about the more casual atmosphere this year at Sundance. I dig it. Even the check in girls for the Village from BWR public relations were sweet and attentive. NO attitudes. Very refreshing!

Sundance. Bring it!

2009-01-16T03:24:00.003-07:00

Mary and Max

Live in Livs

I headed to the New Frontier on Main at noon today with the promise of a 'luncheon' and a ticket to the Fest's Opening Press Conference. We journalists love our free food and the promise of easy entry into the party. The lunch consisted of sandwiches slathered with dressing so I opted for a tiny cup of squash soup and half a brownie- enough to take the edge off while I canvassed the underground venue at the top of Main Street. The space under the Main Street Mall has been transformed into an underground techno nightclub looking place with performance-art-meets-the-web exhibits. It's free and open to the public so you should definitely stop in. There were journalists from every corner of the world sneaking bites in between note-taking. You could feel the buzz as we anticipated the Fest's kick off. How eventful will the next 10 days be? Will the celebs come? Will no-name films sell for millions? Who will create the wake Paris Hilton used to at the parties? Will there be big parties during this celebration of American independent film?

Most of them were friendly; a little reserved, maybe, but willing to mingle after a bit. As I scooped ice into a glass, I turned to see Sean Means, a local film critic from the Salt Lake Tribune. He gave me a quick nod before gazing down to my pass. Guess his Express Pass trumps my General Press Pass and he quickly backed away, afraid he might catch what I have. It's funny how some press actually think theyre more important than the subjects they cover. Or maybe I intimidate him. Yeah. That's it. But I'm not the one who stands up in front of a crowded theater and yells for everyone to use library voices because "some of us have to work here." We're all just doing our jobs and I'm sorry, reviewing films is not the same as solving the world's economic crisis or inventing the next Facebook. It's simply a fun, cool way to make a living.

Whoa Is Parking

15 minutes until the Opening Conference across the street at the Egyptian. The clock was ticking. I had hustled up to Main thinking to grab a vacant spot on the street when I saw the no parking signs everywhere. Both sides of Main are loading only and lower Main is pedestrian only. Sure, you can park in a lot on Swede Alley -if you can find a spot and are willing to pay $20. Luckily, the Wasatch Brew Pub lot was still the normal $1/hr today (Thursday) so I slimed in. Tomorrow, when the Fest hits third gear, it'll be a different story. You probably shouldn't try to get creative this year with your parking. The City needs revenue so they'll be out for parking ticket and towing blood. Best bets are to park in the City Park or ski resort lots and ride the bus to Main. Hitching is also an option, and you get to meet some pretty cool people along the way. If you're coming up from Salt Lake, don't even bother treading past Redstone. Park in the Park n' Ride near the Olympic Park and catch the free Express Bus.Today's calm makes you wonder whether turmoil will ensue or we're over-estimating the sitch. What I mean is, maybe it won't be crowded this year. Maybe the economy, Prop. 8, the brilliant sunshine baking what little snow we have will keep the east and west coast hoards at bay. Someone asked Robert Redford at the conference about the economic climate and its effect on Sundance. "Art will always find a way," he said prophetically. Geoffrey Gilmore, the event's director said that ticket sales were ahead by substantial numbers and that they were pleased with the sponsor dollars they've received. "We're weathering the crisis," he added. The times certainly didn't stymie filmmakers. A total of 118 features (chosen from 3,661 submissions) will screen over the next 10 days.

Sundance's "Housing" Market
Rumors, on the other hand, speak to a lower volume of film sales in 2009. Variety Magazine predicts that film acquisitions will fall below last year's $15 million mark and that was significantly lower than the $45 million spent on independent films at the 2007 festival. Walking Main Street today, there also looks to be quieter times for what Sundance organizers call 'ambush marketers '. "In recent years, Sundance Film Festival has been overwhelmed by organizations without an official relationship to us who target festival attendees with their swag houses, lounges and nightclubs," said Sarah Pearce, Director of Festival Operations, Sundance Film Festival. Sundance nabbed a prime location once called The Village at the Lift on Lower Main Street and turned it into "The Sundance Lift". The area will provide space for press junkets and filmmaker events, free from gifting suites and other non-film-related activity. "Our hope is that it will send a message to those hangers-on who do not support the Festival," said Pearce. With VAL gone, that leaves The Village at the Yard (Anderson Lumber's space on Kearns Blvd.), the Style Lounge, The Hollywood Life House, Moving Pictures Magazine Media Lounge, House of Hype, Sephora Lounge, Gibson Lounge, and the Rock Band Lounge. About half the players of last year.

But those gifting suites are so cool! How else would I stay 'up' on the latest rocker fashions and hip gear? Certainly not by living in Park City where 'dressy' means 'no jeans.' Those suites happen all the time at Hollywood events like the Golden Globes and Academy Awards; even at the Superbowl and the X Games. I understand that Sundance is meant to be free of issues like the bottomline but those of us fashion don'ts like to see what walks our streets of Utah in January. I poked my head into the House of Hype today on an invite to visit their sponsors. Livs (livs.biz), the original crochet boot that UGG apparently blatantly copied, was in full gifting mode and I picked up a pair of cute and extremely comfortable pink boots with buttons down the middle. Even with the 'venting', my feet stayed warm and dry outdoors. I kind of felt like I was cheating though by wearing slippers as shoes- that's how cush they feel. I met with members of the Philadelphia Film Commission in the back room. About six films at the Fest were shot in Philly, they figured this would be a good year to draw more attention to their location. True Philly cheese steak sandwiches will be flown in for VIPs Friday- Sunday. Downstairs, I checked out WiiMusic, Wii's version of Rock Band without the instruments but with the hand controllers, and was handed a hat designed by a woman with a boutique company called Contraband (mycontraband.com). She had been to Sundance as a guest before and decided to make hats and tanktops for the rocker market. Upstairs, I snagged a seated massage and had the girl work in some Nivea lotion. Our dry air brutalizes my hands. Nivea and its brother Aquaphor are in the House showcasing their products; perfect for our climate. One, a new body firming gel called Silhouette, I can't wait to try.I thanked everyone for their hospitality, grabbed a cup of Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf coffee imported from L.A. and headed over to the Yarrow for the opening night film. Mary and Max was a somewhat warped, funny and sad tale of a 44-year-old, obese New York Jew with Aspberger's Syndrome who befriends an 8-year-old penpal in Australia. Done entirely in claymation animation, this is no Disney film. Not even close. Mimes die from falling air conditioners, gold fish get toasted in a toaster, moms drink embalming fluid and Max farts. Still, the message of friendship and acceptance in a bleak judgmental world will touch many hearts and the painstaking craft of animating this 92-minute feature won't fail to astound audiences.

It's late and I'm back at it again tomorrow. Did I mention that I saw the members of Hoobastank as I left the House of Hype? Bet they're playing in town somewhere this week. Later!

Sundance Is Coming

2009-01-14T00:33:00.002-07:00

OMFG. I just break through the holidays only to realize that the Sundance Film Festival, The SIA Show and The OR Show are about to wrestle me to the mat. ARGGGGGHHHH! I just got over the most evil cold. Congestion, chest cough, drippy nose. Then I wind up with food poisoning from the chicken tortilla soup at Loco Lizard, recover the next day only to drive to Jackson Hole for the week. When will it end? Some of you will probably offer no sympathy. After all, why should I whine from skiing 8 days of the last 10? There are worst things to happen to a person. But friends, family, super cold weather and burning the candle at the ends and in the middle destroy your psyche no matter whether you're playing or working. Plus, I was doing both. Skiing by day, writing by night. and worse- by morning. Sometimes I would finish at 3 a.m., crawl into bed only to wake at 8 to head to the resort. I paid for that and now I'm terrified of a repeat performance. Sigh. A high has set in, causing zero new snow and warm temps. Good news for Sudnance attendees; bad news for locals hungry for more pow. Like a vampire that ha smelled fresh blood, we're ready to ravage.
I will say, though, the economic times have taken their toll. Sundance starts Thursday and all is a bit too calm in town. Where anticipation should be building along with traffic, tonight felt like any other. Traffic into town was manageable, restaurants had seating and I had no trouble finding parking on Main. We'll see if that changes in a day. If you've always wanted to attend Sundance, this may be the year. I hear many of the shows still have tickets available, there are vacancies everywhere (especially after Jan. 20) and deep deep discounts as renters struggle to get at least something for their condos.
Chnaging the subject, Sage just came back from checking out pre-schools at the PC Moms preschool fair. I can't believe she's ready for something formal but by next August she'll be three and that's the time- supposedly. Man, I'm not looking forward to shelling out that kind of cash. But it's for a good cause we tell ourselves. The place I'd really love to enroll her wants $1100/mo! That's about as much as I make in an average month. Makes you seriously consider home-schooling. Perhaps I'd make more once she's in school full-time and then cost would even out. Hmmm. For now, she's a bright young sprite with a zen for fishies, butterflies, hearts, Finding Nemo and Cars, and realityTV dance shows. She loves bread with peanut butter, eggs (scrambled and hardboiled), graham crackers, bananas, baths and putting diapers on all of her stuffed animals. She wears jeans and dresses equally but demands her Roonwear 'face' socks; and at night she insists we turn on her starlight globe (purhcased for .50 at a yard sale last summer) before we kiss her goodnight and shut her door. She still sleeps until 9 or 10 am and takes 2-3 hour naps inthe afternoon- hate me yet? :)

2008-11-28T02:35:00.003-07:00

Wow. Quiet. Of course it is 1:30 in the morning. It better be quiet. It's just that I'm actually appreciating the peace. Until tonight I've been up working so late that I don't notice. Tonight I can. One day to breathe. I've met all of my latest deadlines and the next is Monday. Tomorrow can be a play day. Unfortunately, Ryan's not much help when it comes to freedom. Sometimes I'm jealous of divorced couples. Not that I want to be single but the thought of having 2-3 FULL days just to myself even if it's every other week - no sharing a bed, no smelling farts, no changing diapers or filling sippy cups. Ah Heaven. Last week, when my acting coach bailed on our session, I took myself to see Twilight instead of going straight home. At first Ryan was peeved and called it lame that I would do this without him- see a movie. But I convinced him he would hate sitting through a chick vampire flick. I was right, btw. I personally found the movie intriguing and silly. The dialogue, acting, and cinematography was weak. The only thing saving the film was the dude who played Edward. The actor is fascinating.

Back to Ryan. By the time I got home - two hours later- he was cool. And he should be. He spends 2-3 hours twice a week playing hockey. I run errands and squeeze in the occasional climb at Rockreation but nothing that regular and rarely at night. Today I announced that I would be taking Wed night. and either Thursday or Monday. But what about us? he asked. We would still sleep together every night (which we didn't before he moved in) and we would have Friday and Saturday nights to hang. Perfect deal! Now if I can get us both to stick to that.

I find myself glued to my computer, forgetting to even leave the house. That's not cool for balance or my psyche. Starting in a couple of weeks, however, I can ski 3-4x a weeks because Sage starts up with her daycare again. That will make Jill a happy camper. I don't know how people with 2+ kids function. Sage is adorable and sweet but she's also going a mile a minute, always wanting something from me unless I put my foot down and tell her she must "let momma work" and go play by yourself for while. She does - but then it's time for a diaper, for a nap, for dinner, etc. I love watching Ryan freak out when I put him in charge for just a couple of hours. He always steps back with a giant appreciation for what I do every day.

Things are going better with Ryan and his ass. He's lighting more matches and taking it to another room. He's still farting in his sleep though. Kristen says her man Kirk has trained himself not to and should talk with Ryan. He also takes some kind of remedy but I'm not sure what. I need to get those two together. Ryan begged me not to wake him tonight, even if he farts. I refuse to lie quietly while I choke. He has to work tomorrow despite the holiday. Why can't Wall Street close? It's not like there's going to be heavy trading. Everyone's still in a tryptophan coma, no? Or at least in vacation mode. I don't mind. I get to sleep in and wake up to the bed all to myself. Then Sage and I will get pedis at the Cole Sport Roxy party at noon. I'm meeting Ryan back at the house around 3 to pick up my Hyundai which- after more than a month- is finally fixed. $1800 later, it drives. New transfer case and differential. Ouch.

Anyone want to buy a 2001 Santa Fe cheap? I should just junk it. It began as a bad memory. I bought that car a week after Greg broke up with me and a week before he packed up and moved back east without so much as a goodbye note to prove (to whom?) that I was starting a new life. As much as I am over that guy, he stills leaves a bad taste in my mouth. That's the lowest, most disrepectful, most hurtful thing any guy has ever done to me in all of my years dating. I was a wreck for two months straight (even spent $100 on a phone psychic- that's how destroyed I was), rebounded with a bipolar alcoholic for six months and then practically hopped in the sack with a new guy every month for a year after that. Until Ryan.

I should have bought a new car then. Thrown off all of the dead weight. But now, after seven years, it's going. Yay! Look for it parked in a lot at Kimball with a For Sale sign on it. If you live anywhere in snow, it's a great ride. Just has a lot of miles on it- 154k! I was going places, Man. My new car won't get nearly that kind of action. I've learned to find life closer to home. Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone! Hope you had a wonderful dinner (stay away from Good Thymes; ours sucked) and a blast with friends and family.

We took this outside the restaurant today before heading in to see BOLT. This was the very first time Sage made it through an entire movie without getting fussy. Normalcy is within my reach. BTW, I love kid flicks.

Farting Is Out of Line

2008-11-20T09:46:00.003-07:00

Ryan's got to stop farting! If he doesn't, he's sleeping someplace else. I deseparately need my sleep. For the past four nights, his silent stench has woken me up. I'll turn in bed, the sheets will invariably lift and, poof, it's like I've stepped into a sewer system. The smell is enough to kill small farm animals. And it wakes me in an angry way. Maybe he's telling the truth when he says he has no idea he's doing it. I don't care. It has to stop! It's driving me crazy.
Last night, I got so mad. Not only did he fart a zillion times, but he rolled over to my side of the bed to do it. I shoved him back over and he didn't even grunt. Not fair that he can sleep through this vile act. When he snores, my nudges will wake him and he stops. My theory that if he wakes me up, I'm waking him up doesn't apply to his gas. Waking him up, doesn't make the offense go away. It just makes him lift the sheets and release more of the toxic fumes.
Living with a guy, granted, isn't exactly wine and roses 24/7 but it shouldn't be backwash and stinkweed either. Ryan's a sweet guy and he means well most of the time but I've never had a boyfriend with gas this bad. During the day, he's gotten better at not walking over to me and farting. Now he tries to fart in the bathroom or at least out of earshot. But at night, it seems unavoidable and it's killing me. The couch has his name written all over it. Men, why are you so disgusting?

Glad October's Over

2008-11-05T00:44:00.006-07:00

What a month it's been. But as the snow has settled all around and completely altered my literal landscape, so too I hope my figurative one. It begins with a new car...

The transmission gave out all of a sudden on I-80 as I headed home at 10 p.m.- with Sage in the back no less. Somehow I managed to coast from the fastlane to the breakdown lane. I was on autopilot. I went from 75mph to 0 in about 15 seconds. "Gotta go, Dad," I exclaimed into my cell. "My engine's shot." I couldn't even put my Santa Fe into PARK. It rolled backward. I had to use the E brake. 154k miles on it and yet another major issue. I had just replaced all brakes, pads and rotors and the left ball joint! I let Hyundai tow it off to the dealer while Ryan brought us home. I immediately went on the hunt for a replacement vehicle knowing it was time to retire the Santa Fe.

I vowed my next car would not be a first generation model like my 2001 Santa Fe was. I needed something with stellar consumer ratings, a V6 engine and all wheel drive for my steep driveway and no known mechanical issues. And my budget was set at $10k. HA! You find out quickly that it's impossible to meet my criteria at that price. Even when you think you have, tack on $800 in taxes, $200 in reg fees and what Utah dealers call a "documentation fee" ($150-400). It's basically a scam the state allows so car dealers can make some extra cash off the backend of the sale. Sure they'll negotiate the sticker price because they get to automatically re-add that $400 they said they'd knock off.

I looked and looked. After a week of 24/7 emailing, researching and calling on cars I had about all I could take and was ready to suck it up and buy new out of pure frustration. One of the last cars I looked at (btw, I got a rental car to get around in because I was tired of making Ryan my chauffeur), the dealer swore (three times!) that it was clean- no accidents, no title issues, etc. I drive an hour away to check it out, and he tries to show me a CarFax on it to prove it's never been in an accident, despite my noticing that the hood had been replaced. When I compare the VINs on the Carfax to the one on the Honda Pilot, they're different! We call up the right VIN and sure enough both airbags had been deployed. Ba-Bye.

The next day I look at a Kia Sorento and have it inspected by Casey at PepBoys. Love you, Casey. He tells me that for a car with only 39k on it, it's hammered. The boot was torn from the tierod and leaking. Something that shouldn't happen that soon. He also says stay away from Hyundai and Kias. He recommends a Ford Escape, Nissan Xterra, maybe a Subaru. Sigh. My hunt and research continue.

That night, I bought a CarFax subscription to spare myself time and energy looking at unworthy cars. I became a quick decipher on junk. Like the Mazada xc90 with the transmission replaced at 27k and several other service records.

Suddenly, there she was. A craigslist post for an '06 Chevy Equinox, 22k and a 100k extended warranty on it. I called. Kristin was a sweetheart. She had bought the car outright but owed on a truck and needed to make her payments. Would she take less if I bought it tomorrow? Yes. We met and the car was exactly what I was looking for - ok, it was quite a bit bigger than my Hyundai but it got better gas mileage. She worked with me on a price and I left that night with my new car. And best of all, I LOVE IT! One battle down.

I woke up the next morning with no hot water. After three hours with my plumber, I still couldn't get my nearly new Noritz tankless water heater to produce hot water. As I sat on hold listening to their pitch about 'hot water on demand' and 'never being without hot water', I wanted to reach in and strangle someone. What a joke!

The tech was helpful in troubleshooting but in the end, the heater was shot. Three more days of nothing but freezing cold water until I could replace the entire unit. What Noritz fails to disclose is that if you live in an area with hard water, you should not even consider a tankless heater unless you have a water softener. If you don't, the deposits get in there and wreck the heat regulator and you wind up with a $2000 hunk of useless junk. Had my plumber not replaced it for free I would have gone back to a tank system and suffered through a few cold showers every now and then. It did cost me an extra $800 for a water softener but it had to happen. Battle Two down.

With the car and heater things happening, it was impossible to help Ryan move in before Oct. 31. Luckily, his landlord gave him last weekend to clear out but boy was that a chore. His place was disgusting, not to mention needing a truck and storage unit to get his couch, TV and bed put away. I don't have the space. Here's the funniest: As he sorted through his clothes, we created this gigantic donation pile. The plan was to take it all to the shelter on the way to the storage place. I suggested we put it outside his apartment door first to see if any of the riffraff in his hood wanted it. Sure enough, not five minutes later did the garbage bags of clothes disappear! It kind of felt good knowing that the clothes went directly to someone in need.

By midnight, we were heading back up the canyon to home. Ryan in his Home Depot one-day rental truck and Sage and I in my new car. Which, by the way, Sage refers to as "new car!" every time we go for a ride. Battle Three down.

Finally, Rocky Mountain Power shows up at my door to move a utility pole- SMACK IN THE MIDDLE OF MY BACKYARD. Seems my neighbor wants to do some digging and the pole's on his property. I have no problem moving the pole onto my property but I do have a problem with how far he thinks should will go. I put the stake where I want it and by the evening, the stake has been uprooted and placed 10 feet away. This back and forth continues for three days until RMP tells both of us to call them when we reach an agreement. That night, I took the stake and turned it into an appropriate marker for Halloween:

The next day, I got a call from a member of our homeowners association telling me that my neighbor has decided to move the pole back a few feet rather than fight me. Battle Four down.

Now, it's late and with everything back in its right order, I can rest better and focus on my future projects. Stay tuned....Mommy's new car

Sports Guide RIP?

2008-10-08T22:30:00.020-06:00

Got the news this afternoon. No more Sports Guide. At least not this year. The publisher said something about a wait and see position "Due to the down turn in the economy that has severely affected advertising sales...We are in the process of evaluating our options for 2009 and will announce our plans as soon as possible." We've tabled the first issue of the winter! :( They say maybe next year.... we could go exclusively online, come back monthly, bi monthly, bi annually. We don't know and I don't want to really say much about this as, well, you never know.
Unfortunately, the writing has been on the wall for some time and Dan (owner of Mills Publishing) wants to stop the bleeding. Despite having a worthy publication that met the needs of a sporty community like Utah, there was no love coming from the advertising department or advertisers and so it stopped making financial sense for now.
I wondered out loud if they would put the mag up for sale (so that maybe someone could turn it around and rescue a state treasure; this pub has been around for 25 years!) and was told no. They "wanted the option of reviving it themselves." Hmmm. It won't do them any good though. I once asked a NY magazine consultant to look at some issues and provide feedback and constructive criticism. He said the content was spot-on for our audience but it was obvious the designer(s) had no idea what they were doing and should be fired. Of course, I couldn't repeat this! ;)
Unless someone there spends some serious cash for a consultant, a new designer with magazine experience and without a chip on their shoulder, a website guru and a dedicated sales rep, simply a new editor won't save them. There will ultimately be no difference and, hence, no moneymaker.
Maybe there's someone out there with foresight, disposable income and a brilliant business plan that could make Dan Miller an offer he couldn't refuse?? Ben Warner? John Bresee? Where are you guys?! A Utah pub dedicated to year-round adventure sports, that highlights how-tos, gear, health and community recreation news is definitely marketable. It could easily expand to include the intermountain west and not just Utah. It could thrive like gangbusters on the web and with the right tweaking become instantly viral- expecially if you add video blogs and such. Uh Oh, looks like someone saw the promise. I hear Outdoor Utah Recreation Guide is set to launch their own outdoor rec magazine. A quarterly magazine that's everything Sports Guide was (and probably more)! http://www.outdoorutah.com/index.php?/Newsflash/New-Outdoor-Magazine-to-be-Launched-in-Utah.html
Sports Guide will continue to have a web presence but we'll see how far that goes. I wish I knew more about marketing on the web or I'd find the solutions myself. Unfortunately, I have ideas and great editorial skills - if I do say so myself ;) - but need someone else to figure out the sales end. And now I'm without a title. Jill Adler, Sports Guide Editor, no more.
It wasn't that much work (40 hrs/mo) or that much $$ so I can't say that I'm going to feel the loss financially. But I've been writing for SG for 10 years and editing for nearly five. I'll miss it. I loved the audience, the work and what it stood for. It displayed a way of life; my way of life and those of my friends and fellow skiers, climbers, hikers, bikers and plain voyeurs. Not enough people turned its pages in enough time to keep it alive. What am I going to do now? Same old. I'm an Associate Editor for OnTheSnow.com and still the freelance writer I've always been- Salt Lake Magazine, Sunset Magazine, Flipside Newspaper, Utah Health, etc. On the bright side, I'm back at work on my Utah Dog Hikes book due out by Outdoor Retailer 2009; just had an audition for an IHC commercial with my current commercial running on air as we speak. I've got a piece due tomorrow for MSN.com (not nearly as controversial as the Wife's Bill of Rights piece though!) and six ski states still to cover for Mountain News; many more restaurant reviews and updates for Gayot.com. When ski season starts, I'll do more ski modeling and broadcasting. Always keeping busy. However, ideally, I'd like to add a regular proofreading gig to the pot to replace those 40 hours each month and keep me garage saling next summer. If anyone knows of a newspaper, magazine, website or manufacturer that could use me to massage their copy, PLEASE, send them to my website. In the meantime, I'm going to take a hot bath in my brand new jetted tub, make a cup o' hot cocoa and watch today's recording of "As The World Turns."

Sports Guide Magazine, Rest In Peace, 10/08/2008.

P.S. This would have been the cover of our next issue. :( Sorry, Ritchie (Cheski Photography). We tried!

Ryan's Moving In!

2008-10-02T23:54:00.001-06:00

Ok, so it's only temporary. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Ryan's been looking for a place to buy in Salt Lake and in the meantime has run his current apartment into a hellhole. I won't ever spend the night there (ick). Not to mention he can't remember the last time he changed his sheets. He actually threw away all of his dishes because after spending months as a science experiment in his sink they were easier to toss than clean.
He's at my place (in Park City) all the time anyway, I convince myself. What would really be different? Not to mention the Red Sox playoffs have begun so he'll be up here for sure. But it was always comforting to know that I could send him home to his place and it wouldn't mean anything more than he was spending the night at his place. Now, if he sleeps somewhere else it's a big deal.

We had talked about living together but the discussion ends with me saying, "If you want this relationship to last, never move in." It's me not him. I'm a pain inthe ass to live with. I like my space, I need to control my space, and I suck as a sharer. I know my limitations. Fortunately, so does Ryan. He enjoys pushing my buttons but he also knows when he's gone too far and how to make amends. Chinese Food and a big hug.
We've lasted this long because of him, not me. He's terrific and easy going even when I'm a raging bitch. I so love that guy! But we could always take a breather in separate corners.
Then I go and f*^% it all up by suggesting he move in until he finds a place to buy sla he pays for twice a month housecleaning. I don't ask for much- I guess - because he took the move-out letter to his landlord today. Starting Nov. 1, we will officially be living together.
Yikes! Am I making the biggest mistake of my life? I've thoroughly enjoyed the status quo and I could tell that Ryan is scared to death as well; even when he happily cuddled with Sage and announced that he would now see her every day- (like he doesn't already!)
It's temporary, I repeat. We did this once before but Sage wasn't in the picture and Ryan didn't have a driver's license. He was stuck at my place, driving me mad instead of driving. I couldn't wait for him to get out and move down to Salt Lake City.
This time is supposedly just until he buys a place, but we both know that if we're doing well together he may buy the place and stick renters in, instead of himself. Plus, Sage would sure miss her daddy once she got used to having him around.
Some may wonder what I'm afraid of. Those are the ones who have never lived with a boyfriend. A boyfriend whose only reference to living with a woman is living with his mother. Ryan slipped up tonight and said, "Maybe now that I'm here, we'll cook more." I corrected him that "we'll" means "me" and "No, I do not plan to cook more." Nor do I intend to do his laundry or his cleaning. Hence, the cleaning lady that he will be paying for. That's the selling point for sure. Up till now, our biggest battles have been over the fact that he has lived here four nights a week for more than five years and hasn't once cleaned a toilet or sink or floor. Pros and cons:
Pros-
I can hit the gym every afternoon if I want because he'll be here right after work instead of his place and can watch Sage.
twice a month house cleaning
saving money on both sides. No rent for Ryan, I get help with bills
Someone to cuddle with at night and watch Heroes with
twice a month house cleaning
I can play with the girls on baseball nights while he watches Tv and Sage
Cons-
More Mess
Having to move my stuff around to make room for his stuff
Nowhere to run
Toilet seat up and guy gas
Don't get the bed all to myself
Well, I better get back to work. Just needed to flush out my thoughts. I feel better now; actually a bit excited at the new challenge ahead. I'll keep you posted.
BTW, the new issue of Sports Guide is out and posted on our site: www.sportsguidemag.com. Check it out!

Aloha!

2008-08-23T04:43:00.005-06:00

Ooh, boy, am I going to have a serious bout of jetlag when I get home. It's 3:43 a.m. in Utah...but only 11:43 at night in Maui. We just got back from one of those cheesy luaus where the food is mediocre, the show kitsch and yet you still wind up having a great time. It helps that there's an open bar with the tender free pouring. And that I can never get enough of watching Sage dance and enjoy herself.
A few more days and we’ll be back in town and I'll be wondering what happened to the summer. Like Goto our 60-year-old Japanese surf instructor in Lahaina said about the waves: You wait and wait then all of a sudden it's on top of you so you better be ready to paddle hard and ride otherwise you'll miss it. Is that a bad thing, really? When the falls and winters are so spectacular along the Wasatch and down south? I feel like such a loser that I've climbed a handful of times at Rockreation, scaled the cliffs above the Needles gondola at Snowbasin once and done two hikes. How could I be this lame when I used to have multi-sport days? Now, I'm lucky if I get in a multi-sport week.
I can't blame motherhood. Ryan would watch Sage after 4pm if I asked him. I can blame the heat, the finishing touches of construction, the prohibitive high price of the only local gym in town (that needs a serious dose of humility- 24-hr Fitness won't you please open up a branch in Park City?). But now that it's gotten cooler, the Stump Jumper is begging for a spin. It'll happen when I get home seeing as at home there's no surf to tackle. Did I mention that I am the queen of the big foam board? I stood up on every wave I caught and rode it in until I felt it was time to paddle out. Pretty cool sport. And Lahaina, Maui, has got to be one of the best spots for learning. They call them surf farms- the schools that teach out there; dragging classes of 5 to 8 people each out to places like the Breakwall. And some bitch did put her board between my legs as she cut me off in mid-surf. But it's not like we don’t experience the same on any given powder day. The good spots are bound to be packed. Goto, the Mr. Myagi of surfing, also compared the experience to driving on the freeway- you get in your lane and go. Don't worry about the other drivers.
Wish I could stay another two weeks here and hone the surfing- maybe get up on a hard board (or at least try) but the time will soon arrive to head back and kick the mountain sports back into gear.
Maui's been great though. The highlights- surfing, of course, having Matthew Murasko from Olukai Footwear take us through the Bamboo Forest just off the Hana Highway, brilliant sunsets, snorkeling in Honoloa Bay and watching Sage go nuts for the water (in the jetted tub, the pools at the Westin and the ocean). Tomorrow we'll do the Maui Onion Festival with my parents. I hope they'll have Maui onion rings so that the next time I dine on onion rings in some stateside restaurant I can brag that I had real Maui onion rings in Maui.

Welcome to June and the Summer?

2008-05-30T23:50:00.006-06:00

I think I shall ski tomorrow. Yes, Snowbird is still open and yes I'm still interested in making turns. I know it's supposed to be summer but the trails are too muddy for hiking or biking and the mountains are still covered in snow. I'll admit, part of my motivation is a story I'm working on about the economics of late season skiing (check out the IndustryReport.com June 16) but the other is that I'm desperate for exercise. I climbed at Rockreation with Kristen last Wednesday and that was about it since my week in Mammoth May 16 where I skied one day and snowboarded (or shall I say, got my body pummelled) one day. I'm committed to climbing at least once a week but I really thought I would be moved into my new office - stairstepper and all- by now and back to my workout regime. Best laid plans. My sheetrock guy went to jail for a week on cocaine charges and the momentum jerked to a halt. Needless to say, I didn't welcome him back after his stint in the "graybar motel". I've already unwittingly had my camera and watch stolen since construction began, I don't need to attach a neon sign to my things now. So I still have a bunch of little things let to finish.

The thrift store finally hauled off my entertainment center and my parents big screen TV. Funny. I thought that piece of rear projection history would be worth a whole lot more than whatever that 5-n-dime in Heber is going to sell it for. Sigh. It was one of the first ever on the scene. I dragged it out from San Diego and it worked great until I upgraded with the folks' next hand-me-down. Then it sat in the garage collecting dust; failing to sell at last year's yard sale and throughout the year on Craigslist.

Tomorrow, I'll ski and forget all about it. I hear it's mid-winter up there. Looking forward to the bragging afterwards. "I skiied the last day of May." And next week, I'll have "skiied the first weekend of June." We are promised turns at least until Dad's Day. No word yet on Fourth of July skiing but no matter. Ryan, Sage and I are off to Boston to visit Vavo and Vavao(?)- that's grandma and grandpa for those Portuguese challenged. Did I fail to mention that Sage is half Portuguese? I think that is sooo cool. Who would have thought that this whitebred American Jewish chick would wind up with a Portuguese (non-practicing) Catholic? I did always have a thing for dark, handsome foreigners. It started around the time The Godfather won those Oscars. Maybe Sage's legacy will even help her get into college one day. You never know.

Sage Signs For More

Speaking of which, those gorgeous blue eyes of hers are here to stay! Her mousy blond hair is past her shoulders and although I clipped her some bangs to keep the strands from getting glued to her snot nose in the mornings, they have grown past her nose again. She can point to most all the parts of her body, she still loves baths and when we watch "So You Think You Can Dance," she actually drops to the floor and tried to breakdance. I promise to video this soon so you can all chuckle with us. It's too cute. She's also learning to jump up and down. She does great in her crib but only gets one foot off at a time when she's on the ground. She occasionally gets them both airborn but when she lands, she falls. Tomorrow I bet she gets it. Her words are coming along and it sure helps that she knows sign. Otherwise, it would be hard to figure out whether she wanted the book or the ball, juice or shoes, cracker, cookie or cheese. It's so much easier to communicate with her. But I forget how important it is to teach everyone else the signs too. My mom whined when she spent the day with her in Mammoth. She laughed and scolded me because Sage signed to her all day long and she couldn't understand a single word or figure out what Sage wanted. Oh the poor things!

So now at 21 months, Sage can say (and sign) More, Ball, Book, Please, Cheese, Da-EE, Mama, Juice, Food, Shoes. She can sign- shirt, pants, bath, hug, baby, boy, yes, thank you, diaper, poop, toes, dirty, water, cracker, cookie, dog, sleep, pacifier, milk, up, down, and I'm sure there are some I missed.
When we read Goodnight Moon, she points to the pictures in the book as I say them- Goodnight Cow jumping over the moon, goodnight brush, goodnight stars. I ask her where the balloon is and she puts her finger on the image. I have no idea if she's smarter than the average toddler but it's so thrilling to see what was once a lump, interacting and responding like a little human being.
Tenaya is her protector. If she's not sleeping at the side of my bed, she's curled up at the baby's door. Must be those scraps she snags from the highchair at mealtime. Only takes a few snips of bacon to know who your best friend should be.
Well, I best hit the hay if I want to have any energy for the slushfest tomorrow. The forecast stated 60 degrees and sunny in the mountains! Toodles.

Long Time No Chat

2008-04-30T00:40:00.002-06:00

Wow, I think this has been the longest stretch I've gone without blogging since I started blogging. I blame the stellar Wasatch ski season, my gargantuan home construction and being the mom of a one year old. Does that buy me a hall pass? I still have 60 hours of programming to watch on my DVR! On the bright side, I've painted the new spaces and have moved onto purchasing a office desk and appliances for the downstairs mom-in-law space and Sage has said her first word beyond Mama and Daddy. She can say "MORE". Yup; her very first word; ironic isn't it? A true Adler. She also loves bagels, takes huge spills without a tear shed, and laughs and babbles up a storm. She's walking fast but not running yet. Signing more words- ball, baby, bath, socks, shoes, diaper- but more importantly she 'gets it.' When we wake in the morning, she picks up her toys before we leave her room, I ask her where her binky is and she looks for it and finds it, she tells me what she would like to eat, she grabs her ankles and lifts up her butt for the diaper change, stops fussing before I count to '5' (9 times out of 10 :)). Our baby is growing up! She'll be 21 months on the 12th so I suppose it's to be expected. Hoping the "terrible twos" will pass us like Elijah.
To see the evolution of the construction, http://picasaweb.google.com/mtnmedia/HomeAdditionRemodel?authkey=YL7DnLtOcdY
and of Sage: http://picasaweb.google.com/mtnmedia/19MonthsOld

Hello Again!

2008-03-05T22:52:00.004-07:00

I got my ass spanked in the terrain park at PCMR today. Not that I crashed or anything major but with hyper adrenaline charges pumping, I was whisked into the park and pride forced me to step up - on 4 trips through the beast. It was Jonesies. Three years ago this was the baby park. Now it's the medium-sized one but you could have fooled me. #1 - I cleared the knuckle each time but came down on my tails before correcting my balance. The PSIA clinician said I was an ACL accident waiting to happen. Not good for the psyche when it was right back up for round two. Bigger, faster and more centered, I nailed all three landings but damn those can still feel like someone is drilling into your feet from below. #3- first jump came up short and I landed on the knuckle. No biggie really but being concerned about clearing the next jump, I started my straightrun from that rollover. I was flying and then I was flying. I caught so much air it scared me. I nearly hit the flats after the landing. Not good. I pulled out to the side and steadied myself for going sideways on the ''beginner" box. No problem riding straight on the 2-foot wide feature of flat white plastic with metal edges. But popping onto it and twisting 90-degrees so that I was perpendicular to it was another animal. Four times I tried; three I wiped out on my left hip and once I stayed on my feet- barely. My ankle, arm, hip, middle back and neck are all a little achey tonight.
I must be touched in the head because I really want to go back and conquer that beast. I bet if it was a sunny day, things would be different! Instead, the light was flat, it was snowing and frickin' cold. Plus, my hip flexors are weak from lack of training and I seemed to be working hard for each 180 and pop.

Back at the ranch, I found Lucas sheetrocking my new addition. It's coming along- slowly as always- but it's beginning to transform into something resembling a living space. The plan is to acid stain the concrete floor tomorrow. I can't wait. A new DIY project for Jill! So far, I've installed switchplates, lighting fixtures and painted and installed an organizer in my closet. I would have done more if there was more to do. We're moving soooo slowly. I can't believe it's taking more than 6 months. That's crazy.
Ryan's well and has been a huge help with the baby. For example, he drove up from Salt Lake to pick her up from the sitter's yesterday while I was stuck in SLC shopping for supplies. He came up tonight to watch her so I could make my digital photography class but I blew that off and we hung out for dinner instead. I do want to get a better understanding of my Canon but the class is boring and filled with that photograher's gibberish like F-stop, shutter speed, histogram, spot metering that puts me to sleep. After a day like today, I'd fade fast. I think I need a one on one to ever understand the mechanics of anything non point-n-shoot.
We spent three hours last Saturday shooting around a drab park (it was starting to snow, everything was dead (or hibernating), grey and still. Plus, I was freezing. It must have been in the 20s.
Here's one of my shots. What do you think? Do I have talent or what?
I am going to try to go back next week but I may have lost my way.
Updates:
Skiing's still really nice although the powder is now packed powder and locals are sitting things out until the next big dump. Tuesday maybe?
Sage said mama tonight and for the first time I seriously think she gets what it means. She has said it in the past but then it was more like part of her babbling. Today at dinner Ryan asked her, "Where's mama?" Sage looked right at me and said, "Mama." I know this shouldn't so exciting but when you've waited nearly 19 months and everyone starts wondering why your baby is 'slow' at speech you can't help but swoon over the accomplishment. She has been signing for communication. She knows the signs for milk, diaper, more, please, cheese, juice, sleep and daddy. I so love being able to give Ryan shit about baby signlanguage. When I took my class and tried to teach him some words he said no way and that he would have to see it to believe. Now he believes.
She walks, she crawls up steps, she loves bathtime, sleeps 12 hours a night and is still mostly eating food from the baby jars. She likes them and they're all natural so why not. This way she's guaranteed to eat her veggies (unlike her mama). And speaking of eating, Sage is 24 pounds and 32 inches. She has outgrown clothes from my almost 3 yr old niece! The two babies are now about the same size.
Tenaya's starting get some payback for all of these months of (relative) inattentive. The baby is tossing balls to her and Tenaya retrieves. ok, gotta go. Have to sleep. After three nights in a row of a mere 5 hour shuteye, I popped an Ambian and am now about to tuff my face into this keyboard. L8tr!

Sundance Day Two, Part Two (Friday)

2008-01-20T03:48:00.000-07:00

The House of Hype brought to you by The Hard Rock Hotel and Casino offered a darkened corridor, cocktail waitresses and a live DJ as you strolled the avenue of sponsors from Goodyear (no tires just cans of Tire Shine and Hotwheels toy cars) to USA Golf and Havaiana Sandals (create your own flipflops). As I crafted my Mongolian Barbecue Basket Shoe at the Puma booth, I felt the heat of cameras and fans. It wasn't for me; ha ha. Sandra Oh (Grey's Anatomy) was in the house; picking out her own set of Pumas. Josh promised my custom sneakers would be shipped by the end of the month and I got out of the limelight by scooting over to Oakley. A pixie-like, cool chick named Chelsea handed me a pair of their new Breathless sunglasses. Olsen twin glam with the technical specs of a true Oakley. They definitely give me that Sundance 'look'. Throw in the Frye Gloria pumps (Frye is making fashion shoes in addition to boots now) and my Utah friends might not recognize me.
The style continued at The Boost Mobile Lounge at The Marquee. The New York nightclub has once again assumed the Buddha Lounge space on Main Street during the first four days of the Festival. The boutique clients lining the swanky, intimate bar introduced celebs like Marcia Gay Harden and Rex Lee (Entourage) to Klipsch speakers, Lia Sophia jewelry, cuddly LNA “boyfriend” Tees and Primp cotton/poly hoodies and waffle tops decorated with cute little piggies, pandas, moons or sheep. I got the most fabulous ruffled dress coat from Tulle and it was a tough decision; they have so many charming styles. The bauble on my finger is a Lia Sophia original you can find only on their website (liasophia.com) or through in-home party reps, and the Boost reps insisted I put my Sprint phone in their new Boosted Device Case designed by graffiti artist Madsteez. What I appreciated more was their information on Boost Mobile itself - a Sprint division - that offers unlimited local and long distance cell calls for as little as $35 (no contract, no credit check, no activation fees) depending on your home calling area. Though this probably wouldn't work for a world-traveler like myself (you pay .15/minute outside your extended area), my boyfriend would save a ton of money and those H1 Visa resort employees will dance circles for this new product.
Another company with a fresh cousin is New Balance's PF Flyers. Sporty, action/fashion shoes like the Journa are the perfect spring shoe for a mountain girl. Finally, I will be anxiously waiting for a Treesje handbag to arrive on my doorstep. The collection of bags on display was gorgeous. We’ll see if it actually shows once the Sundance circus leaves town.
I capped off my visit with a smoothy like drink from Lifeway Kefir. With the pro-biotic cultures for a healthier immune system, I might be able to ward off a potential hangover from tonight's parties: MySpace, The Horrors and Maroon 5.
Three hours later…..I did. The open bars stood no chance against my resilience.
As I eecked into traffic on Deer Valley Drive at 6 p.m. I said, "Screw it!" and turned around. The mess was obscene. We were at a crawl from every intersection. By the time I got home, changed and back to town it would be 9. Instead, I called Ryan, asked him to bring my Fox Girls top, parked at a friend’s house to do my makeup, and met him on Main. Just in time to watch the ambulance haul away some guy who had tried to steal a plasma screen from the Main Street Mall but wound up plunging off the balcony of Shabu in his attempt to flee. I heard later, he suffered only a concussion. Of course, he was also under arrest.
At the Horrors screening of their documentary "Counting in Fives" at The Marquee, the champagne and Maker's flowed. We sat down behind Jared Leto in a dorky bomber hat, spying on him as he hobnobbed with the punk band members. The flick itself wasn't really my thing (I'm not into punk nor rockumentaries) but I appreciated the scene. I guess the parties on Friday overloaded city circuits and the power went out all over Main Street. The blackout lasted more than 20 minutes- enough time to sneak next door for the Maroon 5 show at Harry O's. No one paid attention to us because we randomly happened to have the same color wristband as their guests. I almost wished we had been bounced. The band played well but crowd was overwhelming. The only celeb (?) in sight was Ian Zering. I kept silently wishing someone would call the fire marshal- it was that packed. We got out at 1 and headed over to the T-Mobile Diner at the VAY. Live music wafted amid the yelps from drunk snowtubers outside. We entered and bee-lined for the tureens of gourmet mac n' cheese, apple crisp and chocolate bread pudding. Former model Rachel Hunter, with fuller hips, stood nearby with friends. Eventually it was time to head home but this time there was no traffic. We hitched and a nice woman from L.A. picked us up and brought us to Ryan's car at Kimball Junction. You gotta love small towns. Stay tuned for Saturday's update, the people, the parties and the ginormous Sundance attendance thanks to the writers' strike.

Sundance Day Two

2008-01-19T16:27:00.000-07:00

My new favorite place is the Village at the Yard. I’m sure the organizers had this intension. They split with Best Events (Village at the Lift) to start their own enterprise and although it’s not drawing the A-listers just yet, because of the off-Main Street location, they have so much more to offer- including parking, room to breathe in the café and less snooty check-in girls.
Here’s my royal peeve. Even if you are unrecognizable as a celeb or don’t travel with a publicist in tow, you should be treated with the same respect or at least attention. You have absolutely NO idea when that person you just dissed might have something you need (whether its press, a ski lesson or your next job). And yet some folks here think their sh*t don’t stink. I read somewhere that you should treat everyone like a fan. Best advice I’ve ever had to consider. It made sense to me first when I was the third wheel of a #1 morning radio show. It was a classic rock show (like Howard Stern) and all sorts of characters approached like they knew me. As much as some of them scared me, I didn’t want strangers who were meeting me for the first time to run home and tell their friends what a bitch I was; and stop listening because of me. I wanted to be the one people talked about as “so nice”. Folks at the House of Hype whispered that all yesterday afternoon after Brittany Murphy floated through. Brittany’s got the right idea.
You want to be nice; even if you can’t help or can’t upgrade one type of pass to an all-access one. As I stood waiting for my turn at The Lift’s credential desk, I watched the girls at checkin assume one personality –sycophantic- when they recognized a name on a list, or arrogant and dismissive when they didn’t. Of course, some people just don’t care and I’ve been guilty of that on occasion but not on purpose. Sometimes our egos get the best of us and I suppose a four-day stint as the gatekeeper of a Sundance Lounge can go to your head, but jeez, folks, don’t let it!
In the everyday world, these girls they hire as Sundance credentialers are no more important than the person who foams their lattes on Monday morning. Just because they have the power of denial for this event should not spawn the kind of attitude you witness at the Sundance Film Festival. Unfortunately, This phenomenon is not limited to The Lift girls. It’s at the Sundance office itself, the houses and the parties. The ones who are the best at their jobs, however, (Fingerprint Communications operating the Boost Mobile Lounge, Stacey Wechsler’s Hired Gun Publicity, Tracy Paul & Company) get it. They actually look forward to meeting new people. But if you don’t, then fake it. You never know when the relationship you create will pay off.
That said, I was in wherever I wanted to be yesterday.
Kudos to Anderson Lumber off hwy 224 for moving out for the weekend to make the big bucks as the BNCPR’s Village at the Yard. In back, industry, media, and invited guests could drink Amstel Light around bonfire, snow tube on a mini sled hill, dine for breakfast, lunch and late night snacks at the wired T-Mobile Diner. With nearly 100,000 square feet, you aren’t angling for elbow room. I stopped at The Lift this morning and couldn’t help bumping into people- granted many had crowded around the front to take pictures with Method Man.
The VAY’s sponsors seemed to be more relaxed in their spacious environs. Timberland showcased their eco-friendly Earthkeeper boots. I can’t wait for it to warm up so I can don my Chelsea’s – the lining and outsole are recycled, the lining is also moisture wicking, they are fully waterproofed and they’re styling! I also picked up some Coochy cream from Pure Romance. Stealthy gifting celebs, the in-home personal products and accessories company has thought of everything for the bedroom; down to the “toy cleaner”. I’m looking forward to testing out the Basic Instinct pheromone cologne at the Roxy party tonight at Celsius. There was also room for the Humane Society to educate guests on seal-clubbing (I got a stuffed animal baby seal for Sage’s crib) and Diesel in partnership with A Perfect World encouraged me to select an outfit from their kids collection for one needy child participating in the APW are program. Twelve-year-old Shemar will be one styling dude soon! I stocked up with cream and conditioner at Drugstore.com’s Essentials Suite (I could have gotten some Airborne but my cold was at bay) and headed up town to the House of Hype for, what else?, hype.

First day of Sundance- Thursday Jan. 18

2008-01-19T15:09:00.000-07:00

Location: Harry O’s NightclubSnow falls gently outside as maybe hundreds of eager Akon (or simply party) fans crowd the metal guardrail. The hoard of attractive women and guys in blazers, scarves and knit hats beg for VIP passage into the exit-only door. Many manage to squeak by, bewildering security.
As I make my move to the front to check the guest list, I merge with a group with obvious cache; I’m with them it’s assumed; I stick out my wrist and a plastic green band appears. I’m in, no questions asked! The mob behind me waiting to groove inside has no clue what just happened.After 2o minutes of hunting for that list to get my friends in the door, the guys give up and hand me two more bands. We’re all in! It’s nearly 11 p.m. The beat thumps and go-go dancers dressed like Halley Barry from James Bond, with striped knee socks and fuzzy black boots, gyrate; mesmerizing the men who obviously haven’t seen much action in a while. I silently wish I could dance like that.It’ll be a green night for Harry O’s. Patron shots ($12) sold like they’re running out of them. Akon doesn’t come on until nearly 1 a.m. (last call time) and I’ve sworn to leave by 1:30. Sigh. In the meantime, I’ve met a guy who promises to get me into the Maroon 5 show at Harry O’s tonight and another guy who will get me into the Hard Rock Party across the street and a gal who will get me into the ASCAP Music Café at the Star Bar. Everyone’s connected.More people will arrive today. Yesterday was mellow in comparison. I could find parking, my friends waitlisting for the Opening Night Premiere of In Bruges got in without a problem despite signing up only 30 minutes prior. I skipped that movie because Chase Masterson invited me to see her new movie debuting at the Park City Music Film Festival. I’m such a sucker for personal invites. The movie “Yesterday Was A Lie” held an interesting concept about time and memory but was a bit obtuse (obscure?) for the general public. Chase, however, did a great acting job. No complaints there.Today, it’s all about the gifting lounges before the evening festivities. I’m assuming that I’ll see as much green as Harry O’s. After all, green is ‘in’. For starters, the Sundance VIP baskets were filled only by eco-friendly companies. Chaos hats- with whom I work with in the ski industry- threw in a thick alpaca beanie and, although quite itchy, will look tres cool on the domes of Peter Sarsgaard, Quentin Tarantino, Jimmy Fallon, Mos Def, and more. So there’s The Lift, The Village at the Yard (which used to be the Village At The Lift), The Gibson Guitar Lounge, The Boost Mobile Lounge/The Marquee, The House of Hype, The L-R-G Gifting Villa, and I’m sure I’ve missed a bunch! Tonight, I’m looking forward to the Breakout British group The Horrors’ documentary screening at The Marquee and the after party. The MySpace premiere party is at the House of Hype from 6-9pm before that. And, I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that secret entry into Maroon 5. Whew. I’ll sleep when it’s over. I'll also ski when it's over. It's too frickin' cold right now anyway - 10 degrees!!!

Happy Holidays!

2007-12-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

Time flies and we just closed our second Christmas with Sage.

Where did October and November go? I could have sworn I blogged at least once those months but then I'm slightly brain fried since beginning this construction project. What the hell was I thinking?? Starting a new addition in the winter?! The guy I hired to draw my plans- IN MAY- didn't get them submitted to the county for approval until OCTOBER. By then, the guys I had hired as my contractors totally flaked and stopped returning phonecalls. I decided to scrap the project until the spring but then my friend Steve Weinstein, a local Park City contractor, made me an offer I couldn't refuse- being that I'm fiscally conservative and all. He would oversee my project by phone and only charge me for days he actually had to show up at my house. I would handle everything and he would translate for me so that I understood what needed to be done and how to do it. Basically, he would be my consultant and I, the contractor. Insanity.

All of a sudden, I'm fielding phone calls, bids, inspections, material deliveries and charges. I get fun little surprises like hearing that the plans I paid $2k for were scrap paper because the designer failed to locate the septic tank before crafting his masterpiece. Steve redesigned on the fly and didn't really charge me because I hired his crew to excavate and frame. Today, Aspen Roofing is laying shingle and Aron (Steve's laborer) is sheeting the exterior for siding. Don't I sound like a construction guy? Pretty cool learning a whole new industry. I can't say I won't leave the job to professionals the next time around but I have saved some $5k so far even with the extra surprises - moving the septic tank cleanout location, the 10feet deep hard stone that had to be jackhammered for a week before they could excavate my backyard, my phone line getting sliced (Qwest raped me of $400 just to run a longer cable and connect wires!), paying a very nice Bosnian to cut part of a concrete wall that was in the way of framing ($550). Oh, and then it started to snow! Propane heaters to melt snow from the concrete and warm workers' hands and feet; trucks that couldn't make it up I-80 for deliveries or up my icy driveway.

The holidays sent this place into ghostville but we're back on track today. The goal is to at least have my guest room back to liveable so friends can stay over. Keith says if I let him crash here, he'll tile my new bathroom for me. Not a bad deal. And no, I have yet to tear apart my closet and bathroom for this remodel but, oh won't that be fun!

When it's all done, I will have a HUGE office and Sage will have her very own playroom. Right now I have divided my office via babygate. She gets half and I get half. With all her new holiday toys, however, there's no more room for me. :(

She got skis from Karhu- little ones that strap to her feet so she doesn't need to wear ski boots. They have a herring bone pattern on the bottom so she won't slide backward. Once it warms up (we're at 6 degrees today) we'll go out and shuffle around. If she's really a daredevil, we'll slide down my driveway!

My parents sent her a Teddy bear bigger than she is and we got her a Leap Frog activity table she can't stop playing. Ryan's parents sent her a ski suit and lots of other little goodies for the tree. I know we're Jewish but you can't deny a small child the pleasures of wrapped gifts surrounding nature (indoor nature :)). My dad didn't take the news of our Christmas tree well. But I swear Sage will get her Bat Mitzvah in 13 years.
The skiing has been great. I've had friends in town for the past week and we've been tolerating the temps for the freshies. A couple in the group got hurt but merely flesh wounds. They'll be skiing again full steam in a couple of weeks. You have to be on alert when it's early season. Your body isn't as catlike as it is by mid-winter. More snow is on call for tonight but today has been clear and sunny. Perfect Kodak day. I prefer tomorrow's forecast. Snow snow snow. The sun messes with your skin.

I better get back to work. Lots to do and workers to manage. ;) Don't call me if you have a construction project- although I have lots of good people to refer. BTW stay away from a company called KJ Builders. Concrete guys that will rob you blind. Luckily, I sniffed out the scam before I lost $2k. They want half up front then never show up to actually do the work. Lou Dellapena did the job right without an ounce of anxiety.

To Infinite and Beyond! Sage as a One-Year-Old.

2007-09-03T23:29:00.001-06:00

I dreamt last night that I was at a Don Henley concert except that Don was the spitting image of Sam Elliott and sang more like Bruce Springsteen than a former Eagles. And there I was sitting on scaffolding, watching the action below when all of a sudden he's standing behind me, singing. I'm creeped out, not psyched and all I want to do is get down from there. Concert's over and I'm searching everywhere for Sage. She's near the portal and the stairs. Running for them. She's her actual age and all of sudden she's found her legs, she can walk, or better, run. She's not hearing or seeing me, she's taken off running. Faster than one of those pigs in a greased pig event. I dive and catch her but she's desperate to get away. And there are people everywhere getting in the way. I'm trying not to take it personally but she's running away from me! I panic. When did she learn to run?! I awake. It's just a dream. Whew.
Sage is still sleeping soundly in her room. She's not walking. She's not running. Not yet. But she sure likes to move around. I'm not sure what the Don Henley part has to do with anything but I do know how scared I am of Sage running around. When I put her on the bed, it's like she's break dancing. She must dig the softness of the mattress and sheets. On the floor, she scoots on one knee with the other foot flat on the ground to propel her. Soon, there'll be no stopping her?
She stands on her own, briefly, then sits back down. But mostly she plays quietly with her toys happy to greet you and share her toys with you. Walking may not be too far off and I'm not sure what to do at that point. Let her run up and down the hall? My books seem surprisingly vague about what to do with your newly mobile child beyond childproofing the house. How much time is minimally acceptable to spend playing during the day when you have work to do? Obviously supervision is key but does that mean I must leave the house every day for a romp in the park? Is every other day or three times a week acceptable? What should a one year old's 'normal' day look like? And what about eating? How much is normal when it's real people food? I'm used to the jars 2-3 a day. With eggs or spaghetti or bread, I can't tell if she's full or just doesn't like her food after a few bites. And my pede told me I should start weaning her from her bottle - at least start by cutting out one a day and giving her milk in a (sippy) cup. I try but she just skips her milk altogether until it's back in the bottle. I should be tougher but in the back of my head, the pede's words that I "really shouldn't worry about it until 15 months echo." The good news is that she doesn't need her nighttime bottle anymore. Water works fine. It's time for more recon.
It's been easy so far but Motherhood is rearing its ugly head and I have slim to no info about one-year-olds and how to be with them.
Next Monday, I head to Lake Powell for a four-day river trip on the Grand. No, I not taking the baby. Ryan will get to stay with her all by himself. A first for both of them! And my first time leaving her for more than a day since she was born. I'm just a 5-hour drive away if there's an emergency but they should be just fine bonding without mommy there. Hell, they'll probably love it. She's such a daddy's girl. The way he makes her laugh when he reads to her or dances with her. It's precious. Everyone should laugh like that at least once a day.
Oh well, the babe is sleeping soundly (as usual, or course ;) ) and I need to made good use of the quiet night and get back to work. For recent pictures of Sage and our quick trip to Vegas last week go to http://picasaweb.google.com/mtnmedia/VegasBaby.

Hope all is well and if you have any advice, I'm all ears.

She's on the Move!

2007-07-30T00:54:00.000-06:00

Beach baby! You can see more pics from our San Diego trip at http://picasaweb.google.com/mtnmedia/MoreSDPhotos?authkey=Yylk4EdvLI8

At 5:15 p.m. on July 26, 2007, Sage crawled to me! We really thought she'd be one of those babies who skipped the dogmarch and went straight for walking but nope.

There she was, playing with Ryan in her room, with me watching from the doorway, when she spun on her bum and bee-lined for me like a padding puppy. I opened my arms wides, called to her and gave her the biggest, warmest hug when she got to me. I almost cried. My little baby was no longer completely dependent on me for transportation. I can't arrest the process. She's growing up. Uh Oh! Can this spell disaster? She's already fussing when I lay her on the changing table. Crying and squirming where she used to twirl the diaper cream tube and smile up at me as I wiped. She wants to sit up and play with the light switch.

It's back to the books to find out what I need to do to keep her from feeling cooped up yet plan the day so I can still work. Up till now, I could sit her down at various "stations" where she would play alone, and gleefully, for 1-2 hours until it was time for a scene change. She's still good at keeping herself entertained but I'd like her to be able to stretch her legs, or better, knees and arms too. ;) However, what happens now that I have to keep an eye on her?

Today, I caught Sage sitting in Tenaya's dog bed, swinging around the electric cord that she had just pulled from the wallplug. Yikes! I jumped down from the bed with a gasp, whisked her to another corner of my room where she could safely play with my pile of parenting magazines. Later, she tried to wrestle Tenaya's bone from the dog's mouth. Tenaya actually saw this as a game. as soon as she felt a tug, she'd let go of the bone, then Sage would hand it back to her. Good Doggy.

I gotta go. I'm on deadline for Salt Lake Magazine. They've asked me to be a regular contributer to their outdoors section. My first piece is due tomorrow! I interviewed for an editorial position there about two months ago but they aren't ready to allow their employees to telecommute and I learned a long time ago that M-F, 9-6 in a cubicle, just isn't in my genetic makeup. Wish it was; then Sage might actually have a college trust. Instead, she gets mommy 24/7. I'll remind her of that when she's 17 and begging for a new car!

Independence Day

2007-07-02T23:09:00.000-06:00

Wouldn't it be ironic if Sage began crawling forward by Wednesday? She's so close. As I stood by the edge of the bed, I watched her inch on her back- head first- toward the point of no return. One more skooch. I caught her just as she launched. She laughed. That baby loves a freefall. I can't wait to take her on rollercoasters. I had initially planned to hit Disneyland when we roadtrip to Cali. this week but friends and family talked me down from that ledge. It's hot and crowded in July, she won't remember, blah blah blah. So instead, I'll investigate LegoLand. That's in between surf sessions.

The goal is to get up consistently on a board.

We found instructors from Craigslist to help. And my brother will also be in town (with my nieces) to add his two cents on surfing. Sage gets to meet her 2-year-old Cousin Tessa. In a sense, Sage already has since she's wearing most of her clothes! I'm actually very excited for this trip. Normally I'm going somewhere every other week in the summer but I stayed grounded after Telluride in May just to amp up for this trip. One week in cool San Diego. Wahoo!

We start our roadtrip on Thursday. Turns out I found a 28-year-old guy off of Craigslist to join us and split gas. He calls himself a "traveler" and hitches from place to place, country to country. He was in Utah visiting his dad and now he wants to get back to California. Ryan's afraid we're going to be escorting an axe murderer. I think he's just jealous. ;) But just in case- if you don't see a blog on here from San Diego, call the cops. the guy's name is Destry and he's traveling with a lab-size puppy.

Things are good with Ryan. We hit a rough patch two weeks ago where I considered professional help - for both of us. We just weren't communicating but bickering all the time. It was sucking the energy out of the room and me. Ryan didn't see this as a problem! He thought this was healthy debating. It was over stupid stuff like my driving (which is horrible and will always be), my lack of neatness (again, won't change), how potential tenants won't pay more a month just because you have a washer and dryer. Crap like that. He'll make a comment, I'll respond , he'll retort, I'll say. "This is a ridiculous conversation. Enough already." And he doesn't notice that it's time to change the subject. He'll go on and on trying to engage me.

The other day he said I should knock out my living room wall and put in big windows. I said, "Sure, as soon as you have the money for the project." You would think that was the end of story. But no, he had to continue to direct and explain why my house would look better. He didn't get that I agree with him; I'm just not going to do anything about it. Hence the need for communication advice. MEN. It gets terribly annoying. I love the house to myself- no tension, no conflict, no valuable time wasted on idiotic conversations about what I need to do differently. Now, some of you are thinking, sounds like he's trying to change you. And you would be right. And anyone who knows me, knows that's a very dangerous path to tread. But what I think is going on is not that he wants to change me in a literal sense but that he feels like he has no control and that I have it all - he's in my house, I am Sage's primary caregiver, what I say goes. So he tries to find control by trying to control me, when he's really just trying to assert himself. I wish I was equipped to deal with the ego struggle and he's got no skills for this sort of thing either. The words and tone come out all wrong. I'm sure we'll fight over this blog and he'll tell me to stop talking about him to the WWW, I'll get pissed, then apologize, say I'm sorry for hurting his feelings and reedit the blog. Or I could just take this whole paragraph out now. hmmmm.

Naw. it feels good to vent and it's not like there isn't a single chick out there that can't relate.
Ryan and I have been together more than four years. We're destined to survive this kind of BS. He's still a sweet guy who deserves more appreciation from me!

Meeting Your Tiger Beat Heartthrob

2007-06-05T01:49:00.000-06:00

I have to gush; I spent the entire weekend with one of my childhood crushes. Richard Hatch aka Apollo from the original Battlestar Galactica. The actor was in town to teach a two-day acting workshop. I signed up for two reasons, I like acting workshops and I had to meet Richard. After all, how often does one get this kind of opportunity?

When I was ten I devoured my Tiger Beat magazines looking for secrets as to what he likes in a woman. He was 33! Hustler of Muscle Beach, Deadman's Curve, and Battlestar. Hatch was hot. With dark, feathered hair, light eyes and strong demeanor, I was hooked. Then I became a teen and gave up on star crushes, turning my sights on the boy down the street named Brad Luff. I might as well have pined for Richard. Brad had the cheerleader babe girlfriend and they were like the dream couple. Sigh.

But back to Richard. Who would have thought he would be such a sweet guy? He's actually dating a woman here in Utah whom he met during a science fiction convention last winter. It gives him an excuse to teach a workshop every few months.

The class consisted of about eight Utah actors and we spent eight hours a day listening to stories of the 'Biz', tips on auditioning, on how acting affects who you are and how you live your life and working scenes with partners. Richard looked and sounded great. He may have been a bit too nice in his feedback, though. I got a lot of praise and I would have liked to hear more criticism. I can't be that good. Maybe he was worried that I couldn't take it?

He was nice to everyone- telling this 12 yr old kid who could cry at the drop of a hat how he was born to act (personally, I thought the boy was great at making himself cry but he seemed to sob a bit too easily (it got old) and without understanding the character he was playing. But he's young and who am I to judge? I cried too in my scenes but it usually took connecting with my partner and the words before that happened.

It was fun to bond with the other classmates in this intensive weekend and to have the honor of Richard's wisdom. He's been in the industry for a long time (currently acting in the new Battlestar Galactica on the Sci Fi Channel and producing his own projects), has written books, does public speaking seminars and workshops in L.A. and has hosted a relationship radio show. He's a sensitive, deep man with a lot to give.

It felt good to hear that he is surprised by the talent in Utah. I hope that means he'll look to us when there's a project to cast. Since Everwood's cancellation, there's been a dearth of acting gigs. The weekend ended with big hugs and promises to come back in the Fall. Richard even autographed my 1978 copy of Tiger Beat! I'd take the class again, for sure.

So now there's just one more crush left. I met Donny Osmond while doing my morning show on Rock99, now Richard and, since Elvis is dead, only Shaun Cassidy remains. I don't know when or how but it feels like the odds are good.

9 Months Old and a Summer O Fun

2007-06-01T02:03:00.000-06:00

I don't write in my blog often enough. Time blips by faster than the paint chips from my nails. Sage is a healthy 20 pounds at 9 months old. She's apparently as big as most people's 2 year olds! She's outgrown her newborn clothes and now wearing 12-18 month stuff (so if anyone needs some cute little baby girly things, speak up!). She’s not crawling and that's my fault. How can you blame me? She's so sweet sitting on my bed, playing quietly with her Whoozit and alphabet blocks. Not to mention that I've read babies who take longer to walk are more intelligent than their twinkle-toed counterparts. Did I tell you that Sage is learning to swim? Well, not really but she's getting time in the water. She likes to grab her ankles like a breakdancer rather than do the backstroke when you hold her belly up to the sun but it makes everyone laugh and she smiles that stunning toothless grin. She blows raspberries on a regular basis so we've used that as a way to introduce blowing bubbles in the water and she's perfected the underwater pass without choking or wailing. Of course, it would be too much to expect that she would kick in the water but perhaps by the end of the summer… It's still early. I'd rather have her swim than crawl. It's safer in these parts. Crawling amid my clutter is a recipe for disaster.
Instead, she gets time in the jumper and the exersaucer and has learned to scoot backwards on her back when she feels like a change of scenery. She talks up a storm, sleeps 10-12 hours a night (with naps during the day), sits for hours without getting fussy (just ask the PR team for Reno), claps and waves. We think she's the cutest baby on Earth. But I know that's hormonal or something. I hear the same from other mothers – "my baby could be on the cover of magazines", then I look at their baby and think "uh, not." But what can you really say? Disagree? I'm not shallow, every baby is beautiful. It's an uncontaminated soul filled with inspiration, imagination and sparkling eyes and laughing heart. How can that be 'ugly'? But on a strictly esthetic level, there are some definitely ugly babies out there. I look back at newborn photos of Sage and think, ugh, she was not cute. But my OB-GYN swears Sage was a beautiful newborn. OK, I'll believe her.
Sage gets cuter by the day, though. I'm constantly mesmerized by her little hands and big blue eyes. (go to www.dropshots.com/pcskigal to see).
Enough baby gushing. It's been a busy May. We all flew to Reno for their annual River Fest at the beginning of the month. I sooo wish we had a river like the Truckee running through downtown Salt Lake where they could establish a whitewater park and I could practice my Eskimo rolls. For Memorial Weekend, we roadtripped (8 hours) to Telluride, Colo. for the MountainFilm Festival. The antithesis of Sundance, this Fest was subdued, intellectual and inviting to locals. We had no trouble getting into the flicks that interested us. Be on the lookout for a Canadian documentary called Sharkwater. It's a powerful plea to save the sharks the way we rallied to rescue whales and seals. It showed a soft side to those sharp-toothed creatures you would never believe.
I have to stay home for a while now to catch up and pack up. I begin construction in two months. Don Bloxom, a Park City designer, has some pretty impressive ways to spend the equity in my home. When it's all done I will have a new mother-in-law apartment for the grandmas to have 'space', a giant clutter-free (I hope) office with soundbooth and a built-in play area for Sage, and the master bathroom I've been dreaming about since I first moved here. Though ten years ago I settled for a spacious walk-in closet with a window and a phonebooth sized bathroom with only a shower, I never gave up my fantasy of a jetted tub with a view of the Wasatch, and a "thunder room" to wall off Ryan's, er, emissions. The closet becomes the bathroom, the bathroom, the closet. Voile!
I'll need some extra income to pay off the loan so if you know anyone looking for female voice or acting talent, an editor or writer, send them my way. I'm off to bed. It's quite late around here – my favorite time of day.

Sage at 20 pounds and 8 months!

2007-04-22T00:35:00.000-06:00

I have been a slacker once again. Sage just turned 8 months old- two weeks ago. The ski season is pretty much over so I don't have any excuses left. Catching up? Prepping for my trip to San Diego? A slew of auditions? Sure that's all happening but I went back to writing in my journal and I get lazy duplicating my tales. But it's time when the emails all roll in asking how we're doing.
Babies are in the air this spring. My friend Mark Maziarz and his wife Mary Beth just popped out a little girl named Daisy (haven't seen her in person yet but because Mark is a professional photographer he's already got a website with photos of her. My old college roommate just announced she has twins due in May. A boy and a girl. Congrats, Sara!! (I always thought I wanted twins but then when decided I only wanted one child because I still want my life to resemble my life I was glad to hear I was only having my sweety Sage.) And my friend Kim is 15 weeks along. I'm hoping she'll have a girl. She's got a 2 year old boy that will have big issues learning to share mommy and daddy. A girl might ease things a bit. Two kids is just a scary proposition for me. I really only want Sage. Plus, I got off easy with her. No telling what it would be like a second time around- fat, complicated pregnancy, colic, Damian? I do wonder that since Ryan comes from a ridiculously enormous fam (a lot of that has to do with his parents divorcing and both remarrying into other large families), he may start to long for another kid.
I'm mobile with one. Today we're hanging in San Diego. My how a few months make all the difference. My parents were so excited (me too) to see Sage. It's been about five months and she has sprouted the most adorable personality- smiles, squeals, mellowness, bright eyes and alertness. She sits unassisted, reaching for toys, holding her own bottle, eating baby food, rolling over, saying bababa, and playing peekaboo. My mom and dad are having so much fun with her. I got in Thursday and because of the rainy day, we just hung out around the house. Yesterday, I met Kim for breakfast then hung out in the afternoon before going for Chinese at a non-descript but tasty place in Carlsbad. The SD Zoo was on our radar today. Joey's here too with Sarah (my niece). So while he was registering for the La Jolla Marathon, we checked out the Gorillas. Sage spent most of the day eyeing kneecaps from her stroller but one day she'll appreciate the photobook of SD animals we'll be signing to.
She's finally asleep. We got home and though the poor thing was wasted, she was wired from all of the activity and the vibe resonating throughout my parent's house. Joey, Sarah, Julie (my sister), my mom and dad. All present and socializing. Sage did not want to miss a moment. After dinner she played with Sarah's Crayons and Julie took pictures of me and the baby. I was so grateful- I've been dying to get shots like these but I'm usually the one taking the pictures. You can see some of them at www.dropshots.com/pcskigal.
If the weather's nice we're going to the beach tomorrow. Both of Sage's grandmas gave her these cute little swimsuits. Btw, we start a parent/tot swim class May 15 in Park City, after we get back from the Reno River Festival. I better get to sleep myself. I’m beat.

Sage is Seven Months Old!

2007-03-20T01:58:00.000-06:00

My boobs are gone and my hair's falling out. If I didn't know better - that it was because I'm done breastfeeding- I'd think I was turning into a guy. I'll miss my boobs. I'll actually miss breastfeeding too. I appreciate the freedom but I feel like I've let Sage down. If I wasn't skiing so much, I wouldn't have dried up and she'd still be getting all of those yummy nutrients and immunities. At the same time, between the pumping and nursing, I never got anything done.
Sage seems fine with the switch and has taken to Costco's generic formula just fine. Which is a good thing since it's half the price of the name brands.
However, ignorance was bliss. Now that I know I could handle a C cup (quite well, thank you), I suppose I'll start saving up for my 50th birthday present. Renato Saltz did an amazing job on my friend's breasts; hope he's around by then.
Sage was soo cute tonight. We've been taking showers because she hated the bath but tonight was a break-through. Instead of trying to take a bath with her while she screamed bloody murder, I sat her in her baby tub with warm water and the shower going. At first she fussed but then settled in and started reaching for the floaty toys I tossed in. Once she seemed focused on them, I turned off the shower and voila!
Is it just me or am I that weird that motherhood and babydom are as smooth as a puppy's coat (so far)? Perhaps it was my experience raising Tenaya. In 1997, I dedicated myself to being the best dog mom on earth. Unlike other people who get a dog, dont' train it, never walk it, and kennel the poor thing whenever they leave home, Tenaya went everywhere with me; I trained her extensively so that it was possible. We traveled together and when she couldn't come with, I made sure she had care at my house. I bred her, helped her deliver 10 outstanding puppies, handpicking each's new home. Was that practice for the baby to come? I hear all of these scary and sad tales of mothers struggling with their "new life", raging hormones, babyfat, sleepless nights. I can't relate. And I can't believe that I am the only mother not whining. Sage is amazing, adorable, happy, fun to watch and all of those other things every babysitter showers on me. Up until this month I've spent most days and nights with her- movies, restaurants, travel, work. Life goes on but now Tenaya and I have a little buddy.
I get my sleep. She takes two long naps during the day and sleeps 10 hours at night. Soundly. While I watch TV and work. When she's awake, I feed her, change her, read to her, then set her in her crib or exersaucer or bouncy chair to play. She doesn't need my attention so I cook, clean, do laundry, write, shower - all of my normal daily activities. I've found excellent sitters who love spending time with her so I can ski when (er, if) there's good snow or a lesson to teach. I have been told that my attitude and ease have a lot to do with Sage's temperament. I'm not overly protective or rigid. I don't stress. We keep hours that work for both of us, I don't hover and if she wants to make Play-Dough of her cereal, why not? I've got the babywipes on the kitchen counter.
The one significant change in my life (besides the financial strain) is the endless stream of laundry. But I'm handling that too. Maybe my trials have yet to appear. Toddler years? Teen years? It can't all be flat water. Or maybe it is me and I waited just long enough in my life to be ready and able to care for a child without feeling lost, overwhelmed, frightened and angry; so Sage doesn't feel those things either. When I finally decided I was ready for a child, I wanted her as much as I've wanted anything in my life and even when she's crying I find it sweet. A little helpless baby cry that goes away in moments- with a cuddle or warm bottle of milk.

She's got two crooked, bottom baby teeth. The first bothered her a bit but nothing a soft cloth and Tylenol couldn't handle. The second popped out of nowhere without fuss.
Sage still doesn't like spending time on her tummy but she tolerates it. I picked her up from Mardi's house last week and she was on a rug at her feet while Mardi was doing dishes. Reminded me of those puppies. Sage looked up at me from the floor as if to say, "You back already?" She rolls over only when she feels like it; which isn't often. Her big belly could be the culprit. Talk about pudge! Eighteen pounds of squeezeableness. I call her Pooh Bear because, well, she's shaped like Pooh. She eats everything. I'm doing the jar food- green beans, peas, squash, sweet potatoes, applesauce, pears. She opens wide for it all. Can't you tell? ;)
No allergies yet so we'll soon move onto Stage 2 foods.
We went bowling yesterday. Kristen had a friend in town – Mike from REM- and we met up with them. Baker, Bresee and a few others. Bresee said I looked great and later said I was "hot". I hadn't heard those words from a man in a while. That was cool. That was very cool. It's not like I don't get out but I certainly don't put myself out there like that. Sometimes I wonder if motherhood cosmically changes your vibe. It was refreshing to hear otherwise. John, Thanks for that!!
We left the lanes about 10:30 p.m. Sage was already asleep in her car seat. She woke long enough for me to change her diaper and move her to her crib.
It's been a busy month with my teaching schedule at Park City Mountain Resort- four days a week. I want to spend more time with her but that will have to wait until next week. The snow totally sucks and it's not supposed to get any better so we can hang out a lot more. I haven't missed any milestones though!
She sits up without support. Crawling will be next. I'm sure my mobility will be curbed. But maybe not. I've been 'lucky' so far.

Every day, I wake and peer into her crib. Sometimes she's sleeping soundly; other times she's awake and quietly playing with her hands or "binky". When she spots me looking, her face lights up, a broad smile breaks and her eyes open wide. She coos and squeals with delight. I think that's my favorite part of the day now. Tenaya's here too. She picks up her head from her bed, ears propped and moves closer. My little family. We're all lucky.

P.S. Current photos are posted at www.dropshots.com/pcskigal

Oprah Magazine

2007-02-04T23:50:00.000-07:00

In case you didn't get my email blast, Ryan, Sage and I were included in an article for O! Magazine this February. The piece had to do with relationships with big age gaps. The writer interviewed a handful of couples about the challenges and effects created when there's a generational difference and they used a HUGE photo of the three of us smack on the opening page of the story. A special thanks to my buddy and professional photog Richard Cheski who took the picture!
For those of you who couldn't find a copy...

BTW, Sage rolled over yesterday!! We were hanging at Ryan's apartment in Salt Lake, I set her on the playmat, she looked up at me, smiled and flipped. We were so proud of her. Just to make sure we weren't imagining things, I put her back on her tummy and she did it again! It must be all that time she's spending in her new bouncy chair my friend Krista sent me. There may be a bunch of controversy out there regarding the use of these things but Sage just loves it. And Krista's a school teacher. Her son Joe loved it too. Until Sage is walking or crawling, it's got to be the best self-powered activity out there for her. We promise to be careful.

Outdoor Retailer and SIA Shows: Gone But Not Forgotten

2007-02-01T13:05:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the back-to-back dealings are finally registering with OR and SIA attendees. Both the OR and SIA shows seemed a tad slower this year. There were still meetings and buyers combing the floors of the convention centers but the activity was not nearly as vibrant in year's past. In addition, you heard a lot of groaninhg from crossover manufacturers as their buyers put off SIA meetings to see them at OR. "Why do we even bother?" murmured some sock companies.
The revved-up look of next year's outerwear made up for the slower pace. Boisterous boarder-inspired prints, plaids, tweeds and colors rocked the halls. We're flashing back to the 70s and 80s but without all of the neon. Kamik won raves both at OR and SIA for their psychedelic rubber rainboots for kids and women. Bonfire, Obermeyer, Liquid Boardwear, Five Seasons, Isis, Orage, all offered more feminie stylings and toggle-button jackets (where the closure comes across the chest like on a Chinese garment). Colors you'll see include more white, watermelon, greys, greens- even for men. Another noticeable trend was the number of new baselayer companies. Everyone's jumping on that bandwagon insisting their garment will produce the warmest/driest winter experience. Not only is Gordini (the glove manufacturer) making baselayers but they have entered the goggle market. In fact, next season you'll see a plethora of companies with goggles that attack the issue of switching out lenses for various lighting conditions. Eric Richter from Giro says their new Poptop goggle eliminates fingerprints, cracking and airholes you commonly get while trying to change out your lens. Just flip the toggle at the top and slide the new lens in. Back up a sec, Giro making goggles? Makes sense when you consider who better to close the gaper gap between goggles and helmets than the helmet giant itself. After years of research they've found a way to "map" the face, developing a comfortable goggle that has a nearly seamless fit with their helmet and gently kisses your cheek (rather than digs into it). Gordini's goggle works in similar fashion but you unclip the sides of the goggle to get the new lens to snap in. Uvex has been tweaking their Magic goggle to more efficiently jump from a light to darker lens with the push of a button. After last year's attention to the Snowskirt at SIA, Bonfire has come up with a pant that has a detachable skirt- fun and flirtly. As for hardgoods- skis are virtually the same but with updated cosmetics. Head's Monster series comes with a new torpedo-looking backcountry ski but the rest of the line stays the same - why mess with a good thing? You'll also see skis with manual damping devices. Volkl's Tiger Shark carver series features a powerf switch" dial on the tail to soften or stiffen the flex by adjusting springs you can see on the topsheet. Can't tell you much about the snowboard side as I kept my head low and cruised past. Their side of the SIA floor is downright unruly - trash everywhere, loud music, shouting, smoking (it's prohibited in the Hall), kicking back on couches. Ryan wondered if these guys actually get paid to be there. It's a wonder they have jobs. The kids' market is going off. Everywhere you turn they're making mini-versions of adult lines. There also seems to be a growing number of kids-only companies like Roonwear, Outside Baby, Snow Dragon, Molehill Mountain Equipment. Smartwool showed up their new infant merino wool sock and ShredAlert had the cutest little fleece bomber hats for baby. Speaking of hats, you're finally going to see some updates. Perhaps recognizing that most people wear helmets skiing and hats for Apres, next year's hats are fashion plates. Turtle Fur's new FU-R line is skate-inspired and more attention-getting than their old-school style brethren. Suede, faux fur and embroidered flowers adorn the styles.
At OR specifically, recycled fabrics were all the buzz. Patagonia just announced a new program to take recycled polypro from any company (not just theirs), ship it to Japan to be recycled and made into new Patagonia wear. I also noticed manufacturers common to the NY fashion scene, debuting at OR; especially footwear companies. Lots and lots of shoes at OR this year. Maryjanes are huge for next fall. Ecco, Merrell, Dansko, Keen, El Naturalista all have their ruggedized version of the MaryJane. Plus, the traditional hiking footwear companies have added fashionable, calf-high boots for everyday wear.
Another big trend for this summer through fall- the running skort. Sorry, Guys. When the runner chick bends over you get to see NOTHING.
My last observation: companies that seem to have no connection to outdoor recreation hosting boothes and writing orders. Yellowman, for instance, uses tatoo artists from around the world to create designs on long- and shortsleeved Ts. I doubt they would compete with a Duofold baselayer for functionality but they looked pretty cool. Cass and Co., on the other hand, had a great concept of supportive, seamless undergarments made with copper to not only keep the fat rolls from showing under your tops and bottoms but also to tone and stimulate. Anti-aging clothing! That's about it from the floor. Most of the new innovations are still in prototype form. We won't see the final versions until the fall. I can't wait!

Sundance Questions

2007-01-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

Hello Jill, I'm Chris-

Later this week, I'm going to be paying my first visit to Park City, luckily and coincidentally it's during the final weekend of Sundance.

I was browsing around finding out more about the activities and film festival so I could take advantage and experience it. I stumbled upon a blog site where a posting had been submitted by you. I found it interesting and informative, but at the same time a little disheartening. It seems to me that an everyday average guy…me being from St. Louis, and a divorced 30something, that there's not a whole lot of involvement for people like me. Since I won’t be walking around with VIP stamped on my hand, or have a tie-in to the movie industry, is it more going to be me getting shunned out of restaurants and away from anything fun? I know that sounds kind of negative, but from what I've read, that seems to be the case in a lot of ways. So, I turn to you for some advice…how can a couple of average Joe's from St. Louis go out and have a grand time in Park City, and take in the whole experience of Sundance. Oh, for the record, while I think it'd be cool to run into a celeb walking past me on the streets, chasing the stars around is not my idea of fun..haha.

THANKS! (I did enjoy your blog post by the way)

Chris

St. Louis, MO

Hi Chris- I wish I had better news for you but unless you are a ragingly hot chick, your chances for the hookup are quite slim. The women at the Fest are primarily interested in celebs and filmmakers- those who can open doors to the private parties and beyond. That said, there are a few places where Sundance meets Park City-
For dining:
Prime Steakhouse (tell Brian Morgan, Jill Adler sent you), Blind Dog (you might have to bride the concierge), Wahso, and Shabu.
For people watching, these Sundance venues allow the general public "space permitting": The Leaf Lounge (winetasting and schmoozing), 751 Main Street, 3-9 pm.; Entertainment Weekly Café, VWHQ, HP Snapshot Chalet, Stella Artois Patio, Aquafina Alive all at the Kimball Art Center; AOL Cyber Lodge, 614 Main St., Delta Sky Lodge, 449 Main, KRUPS at the Rabbit Hole, 333 Main St..

The hot thing this weekend is to score a ticket/invite/name on the list to the Zone Bar - a four-night acoustic showcase hosted by multi-Grammy Award winner Kenny "Babyface" Edmonds. Joss Stone, Bird York and legendary guitarist Stanley Jordan, Joan Osborne, Jonny Lang, Keb Mo', Sean Lennon, Lindsey Buckingham, Shelby Lynne, Shawn Colvin, Daniel Powter and Marc Broussard, and surprise performances from special guests are part of the evenings from Thursday to Sunday, 6-9 pm.
If you do miss it, the concerts will air in high-definition as a one-hour primetime special on the WE cable network later this spring.

Ride the buses!!! For one thing, it's free and saves stress from the parking nightmare that has become Park City. For another, you can eavesdrop and find out about what's going on around town. You never know. Someone might just invite you guys to join them.

Sundance Day Two; Swagdance

2007-01-22T11:04:00.000-07:00

It's insane in Park City this weekend. Spend anytime near the Town Lift (aka Village at the Lift) and you feel like you're smack in the middle of Times Square. I can't walk Main Street without pressing my nose to someone's black coat back. The T-Mobile Café spills over with puffy jackets, dark glass and beanies. Hugs and double-cheeked kissing are as common as ordering a latte here.

There's no room for the bags we're all sporting. Shopping bags spilling with boutiquey items gifted at the various lounges and houses that make Sundance, Swagdance. It began with the Premiere Lounge's Backstage Creations Celebrity Retreat. I hiked the stairs of the Riverhorse to find it much more cramped as a gifting suite than a restaurant. Intermix is here. The luxury boutique in NY, L.A. Boston, The Hamptons, etc. had their table in the back of the room with a rack featuring couture lines Aulo trouser jeans and Chan Luu sweaters. They handed me their "Black Book" - a travel guide for fun, hip spots in the cities where they have stores. I was quick to swoop down on the BaByliss Pro travel blowdryer by Conair. I'm sure this little “baby” has come in handy for many a VIP at Sundance. In the main room there were new and improved Rembrandt Whitening strips - all that coffee-drinking this week takes it toll, Bean Pod soy candles, Livs crochet boots (!), Sweet Leaf sweetener, and a Utah company called Tahitian Noni that makes a line of natural skincare products and now natural teas. No celebs walked in while I was there but it was early. Soon I would be proceeded by Teri Hatcher..AT EVERY SITE. That's one over-exposed lady. I was excited to learn that she's human. She gets regular Restylane injections. The line-filler company had a table at The Marquee to educate us on injectables to keep us more youthful. Though Hatcher pretended to shun the company, an inside source told me she's one of their favorite customers. It takes more than good genes to look younger than your years! What I don't get is why she wouldn't want to admit she's not perfect? It would be stellar promotion for the company, and the rest of the world wouldn't feel inadequate at 45.

The Marquee, a slick take on the Marquee Club in New York, hosted AG Jeans (cords are still in style), La Coste's new women's line of sexy polos and henleys, Polaroid (gifting their little i630, 6mp digi in the hopes that celebs will bust them out throughout Sundance) , and Lia Sophia jewelry. The line is sold similar to Mary Kay and doing quite well; probably because the bold designs are so original. The best part of that lounge (besides getting a gift certificate for a free Restylane treatment!) was getting a skin consulation from Dermalogica (and products). Who knew there was a difference between dry skin and dehydrated skin?? Apparently, if your skin has fine lines and the texture of tissue paper, you're dehydrated.

Fred Segal Salon at VAL was my next stop. The place has the ambiance of a fine boutique rather than a trade show. I picked up silky panties from Le Mystere, black Habitual jeans, Alora fragrance diffusers, more skincare from DermaNew (a personal microdermabrasion kit) and haircare products from Kerastase and L'Oreal (they have a new lightweight professional hairspray called Infinium). Teri Hatcher whizzed in and grabbed a boxful of T-shirts from Little Miss. The line of super cute cartoon smiley faces are about to take off. Teri and Tara Reid liked the Little Miss Naughty, Chatterbox and Shy. Making their Sundance debut, boots from Earth Shoe (the company with the negative heel technology. The heel's lower than the rest of the sole.). I especially like the ankle-height, winter Igloo boots with suede and faux fur even though the stars were grabbing the knee-high boots.

As I bounced from the various houses a trend was emerging. Instead of the "big players" plastering their logos and brand all over Sundance, the event has become a place for small upscale companies to target a particular clientele - one with bucks, power, and taste. Each had a smattering of companies trying to get their names known- kind of like the actors, writers and directors attending Sundance. We'll visit more hotspots when I return.

Sundance Day- The Groundlings

2007-01-20T09:31:00.000-07:00

Sundance is off and running. The streets of Park City, Utah, are a nightmare to navigate, parking non-existent, theater lines inconvenient, and ticket prices ridiculous (if not sold-out). This is a festival by and for independent filmmakers – actors, writers, directors, all hoping to land a big project based on what they show of themselves at this event. The only place for Park City locals is on the sidewalk.
Film distributors and producers, agents and CEOs, spend night and day through Jan. 28 hunting for their next hit. Paparazzi and tabloids comb Main Street and gifting lounges hoping for a glimpse at Justin sans Cameron or Tara Reid’s cleavage. My guess is that this is probably the biggest collection of Hollywood stars outside of the Oscars or Cannes. Just hang out around the Village at the Lift (lower Main Street) for 15 minutes and I guarantee you’ll see an entourage of bodyguards and publicists surrounding a diminutive “name” in over-sized sunglasses walking out of Fred Segal with arms full of shopping bags. Just look for the frenzy of flashing bulbs.

The celebs are here promoting their films – Teri Hatcher, Kate Bekinsdale, Sienna Miller, Steve Buscemi, Heather Graham, Chris Klein, Molly Shannon, Anthony Hopkins, Christian Slater, and on and on. They’re not skiing- between interviews, screenings and swag collecting, who’s got the time? And you must look closely as they're often hard to spot. The PR assistants look more like starlets than the actual starlets. I spotted John Hensley at the DC Mountain Lab ( Matt on Nip/Tuck) and thought he looked familiar. I could have sworn he was that Taco Bell manager who hit on me at Cisero’s five years ago.

In the days leading up to this annual event, my excitement and anticipation grows. I grew up in Los Angeles, went to school at UCLA, grad school at USC, worked in the film industry (acting as well as an agent’s assistant at ICM Talent Management) and have several friends in “the business” that I invariably bump into at some point during the 10-day event. I think it will be like homecoming. But then on opening day, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I see these strangers in black, with finely made-up skin, tailored jeans and expensive, flowing scarves (Utahns don’t wear scarves), talking into their Bluetoothes and I catch myself actually feeling embarrassed to say I’m from Utah. Get the irony? I live in a place that others spend thousands of dollars to visit and I’m feeling self-conscious! I want to slap myself and yet I can’t stop. It’s the vibe. You can’t help feeling like an outsider at Sundance. Everyone, and I mean everyone, looks at you wondering why you are here and who you are. Unless you have an industry pass or are related to someone in the film biz, the average Joe gets snubbed.

Locals often use the word “tolerate” in the same sentence with the Sundance Film Festival. This year, despite the supposed influx of 60+ million dollars to the State, they say they can’t stand these last two weeks of January. There is no free parking anymore. Some greedy city official made the free lots near the high school $10. And the parking lots behind Main Street are charging $30! The buses are free but they move slower than the Tortoise. Hitchhiking is the only way to travel now. Or try to catch a ride in one of the several VW escorts cruising around town (act like you’re with a film in the Fest).

If you’re here just to watch films, you should have bought a festival pass long ago. Only the serious film buff will find it worth the money. Many of the flicks at Sundance are hit and miss so why spend $15 (it was $10 last year) to see a bad movie? The good ones will arrive at theaters, rental stores and TV stations soon enough. Instead, take time to walk up and down Main Street, check out the shops, have coffee and eavesdrop on strangers’ conversations. Sundance is more about ‘the scene’ than participating.

There are three things I love about Sundance and none of them are related to the Festival organization itself- The Village at the Lift, Chefdance, and the gifting suites.

VAL turns the Town Lift into a minihub for the movie and TV industry. Every storefront morphs into a space sponsored by big corporations like T-Mobile, Fred Segal, Philips Lighting, and Heineken; where ‘VIPs’ and media network. I’m visiting tomorrow so check back.

Chefdance is run by Utah local Kenny Griswold, who owns the Harry O’s building on Main Street. He hosts the food and wine event in a space downstairs that will soon be a year-round Mediterranean restaurant called Onassis. In the meantime, guest chefs from Boston, Florida, New York, California and Utah premiere a menu of their choice to a select list of invitees. The place is packed, wall-to-wall, with boisterous personalities from everywhere- including Utah. This is one event that oozes warmth and vibrance. We’re here because someone invited us and here’s to a damn fine evening! At my table sat the owner of WireImage, two girls from Us Weekly and an editor for Star Magazine. One table over was a group from Salt Lake City that sells wholesale foods to a major restaurant food distributor. Another table of Indianans clinked glasses of House Wine (that’s the name of the wine) and laughed about college days. The food was better than any movie screening last night- the chefs from Social Hollywood and Social Miami served up lobster risotto, braised short rib, seared Kobe beef, whipped potatoes and a decadent Mexican hot chocolate with churros for dipping that was like a spicy, melted pudding.

My evening didn’t end until 11 p.m. Now, that’s the right way to start Sundance.
Tomorrow, the gifting begins. To say Utah lacks fashion sense is like saying 0 degrees is cold. Sundance brings culture and couture. It establishes trends (remember the pink Motorola Razor phone?) and displays before-unheard-of companies. They do it by way of The Premiere Lounge, The Marquee, The Ultimate Green Room, The Style Lounge, The Global Green House, The Delta Sky Lounge, The Fred Segal Salon, The Warm Winter Retreat; places that during the rest of the year are Park City’s fine restaurants, art galleries, second homes and real estate offices. This week, they house boutique brands and name-brands- and even charities. Tommy Hilfiger, Kiehls, MAC Cosmetics “gift” VIPs in the hopes that a photo might be taken of Antonio Banderas wearing a pair of Timberland Boots or Sharon Stone in a 2 Be Free sweatshirt; or mention made in a national magazine or newspaper. What I like is that unless I was down in front for the display, I’d still be wearing Gap jeans and Express sweaters. I never knew James Jeans could fit and look better on me or Le Mystere bras and panties kicked butt over Victoria Secret. My belts were Gap too …until I found Linea Pelle. I can’t wait to see what’s hip and cool in 2007. And for that Utahns have Sundance to thank.

Jill Adler has lived in Park City for 16 years, teaching skiing, writing and chasing style. www.jilladler.com

Nearly Five Months Old!

2007-01-03T22:44:00.000-07:00

Sage has been a blast and a very happy, easy baby. She'll be five months old next week and a chubby 14 pounds. Considering her birthweight was 6 pounds, that's some healthy eating. At her four-month checkup, her pediatrician gave me props for producing such a "well-nourished" child.
Everything is healthy and oncourse--with the exception of her not rolling over. Sage hates 'tummy time' so we've let it slide but now she gets it twice a day whether she's into it. I think it's close. I can't wait for her to actually do something so I can start rolling tape on her. She's close to sitting on her own once propped up and has great head control. Her squeals and gigantic smiles are heartwarming. I can't figure out who smiles first. She lights up when either Ryan or I walk in the room. Ryan said last night that he was going to miss this stage. Personally, I am really looking forward to the day she can hug me back.
I love her so much. I see her face in my head everywhere I go. I miss her when she's not around. Even her cries melt me. Who would have thought? Certainly not me. Tenaya takes it all in stride. She guards Sage and frequently licks her. I'm usually tripping over her to get to the baby.
Taking after her mom, she does tend to watch a little too much TV but I get a kick out of watching her stare at Big Bird. To be honest, she likes music videos a lot more.
She sleeps through the night - her night. Because I don't usually go to bed before 1 a.m. I'm not getting much sleep when she wakes at 5. But she's so cute I can't be upset. She's still nursing but I have begun to supplement with formula simply because I can't keep up with the demand. I've been skiing every day since Dec. 18 and there's no way to pump enough. Speaking of skiing. It hasn't been all that. Global warming? Whatever is it, it's making for a mediocre start to the season. A storm is supposedly on the way but there's only 2-4 inches forecast. Life as I have known it has not completely disintegrated. I still ski, talk on the phone, go to movies, go to dinner, surf the web. I was able to find a girl that wanted to trade a place to live this winter for babysitting. I also found a very sweet woman that runs a daycare out of her home for $5/hr. Everything just fell into place.
In four short months we've been to Yosemite, San Diego and Boston. The Mass. trip was for Thanksgiving with Ryan's family. The size of a small town, his circle couldn't get enough of her. I love that she is so loved but for me it was four days in family hell. It was non-stop 'visiting'. As nice as everyone was, it was just too much for me. My family fits in one room on one day. That's what I'm comfortable with.
We drove the baby around to FIVE houses on Thanksgiving Day in pouring rain. Friday, I insisted on alone time by going to breakfast with Ryan only to come back to his house to find six people in his living room passing the baby around like a show and tell object. The only time I held my own daughter was when I fed her or before we passed out at night. To some, I'm sure this is endearing. But as I've said before, I come from a more stoic family. They like watching me with Sage and don't have as much interest in holding her 24/7.
I was screaming inside but Ryan wouldn’t hear it. He's so used to that scene that he looks forward to it. Ugh. He thought I was being a wuss because I couldn't handle it for "just five days". He doesn't get that even two days without 'space" is too much for someone who gets space every day for hours at a time. And sleeping doesn't equal space. And before we left for Mass., Ryan made me promise that I wouldn't duck out no matter how claustrophobic or stressed I felt because he said it would be rude! There was no escape.
I want Sage to know her family on both sides but there has to be a better option than what I experienced last month. Ryan's mom, stepdad and brother will be here next month. I'm sure we'll figure something out and it won't be anything like Thanksgiving. For one thing, they're staying at his apartment in SLC and Sage and I will be in Park City at my house (Ryan and I stayed in his mom's basement over Thanksgiving). His mom is supposed to come up here to visit while the boys ski.
Sage will love spending time with her and vice versa but then I get time alone too. Best of both worlds! Her are some pics of the guest of honor :
http://new.photos.yahoo.com/album?c=pcskigal&aid=576460762382401414&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;pid=&wtok=G7_7N6E0nuM10W8YM3XZjA--&ts=1167889241&.src=ph

**Thanks to Babystyle.com for the killer green sweatsuit and snowflake hat in the photo above. Their stuff is soooo cute!

Three Months Old and Still Cute as Hell

2006-11-14T00:50:00.000-07:00

Baby's crying real tears now. I never thought my heart could break from something other than a boyfriend dumping me. But when I look at this helpless little creature wailing and wailing with tiny tears in the far corners of her eyes, I want to cry to. It's usually all about the boob so I can arrest her tears in a flash. It's times like when Ryan clipped Sage's thumb instead of her nail that kill me. The poor little thing cried so hard she almost couldn't breathe. She was so exhausted that she slept the rest of the day and night.
The trauma is long over and she lives a fairly leisurely life- waking at 7 a.m., back to bed until 10 or 11 a.m. , swing in her chair in mommy's office, nap, eat and get regular diaper changes. Sage isn't rolling over or sitting up yet. Her latest milestone has been the occasional laugh. But she's starting to reach out at objects and staying awake and aware for longer periods. Today must have been growth spurt day. She couldn't go an hour without crying for more milk. I can't keep up with the demand.
She's still portable. We saw Babel last week; ate dinner at PF Chang's and stopped into Ski Utah's Snow Jam at the Gallivan Center. Though it wasn't our scene AT ALL (skaterats and snowboarders), it got us out of the house. This week is a different story. We're attending a wine dinner at Fleming's. No, we're not letting her taste- Ryan won't let me- but she gets exposure to the 'finer things.'
As for me, I'm tired; but that's my own damn fault. I don't go to bed when she does. Ryan and I are both nightowls. It doesn't help that we are back up at 7 a.m. when she wakes.
Ryan's been spending every weekend up at my place. Last weekend, we spent two days organizing the garage before it was too late (translation: winter hits). We installed Yakima's Ground Control rack system and it transformed the space; or shall I say created space I didn't know I had.
And not a moment too soon! Sage's first winter began with a major snowstorm Saturday night. The resorts have more than 30 inches of base and Brighton opens Wednesday, with Alta following suit Thursday.
My hunt for a live-in sitter may have ended. A girl training for the Skeleton at the
Oy Sports Park is trading me her time in exchange for a room this winter. My ski season might not be thrashed after all!
Gotta shower and sleep. It's been a long day. Toodles!
for recent pics of Sage: http://new.photos.yahoo.com/album?c=pcskigal&aid=576460762340005016&pid=&wtok=L1bDcgVWB0mBQn_xA6bjjg--&ts=1163493599&.src=ph

Two Month Check Up

2006-10-17T00:08:00.000-06:00

Sage passed her two month exam with flying colors. She now weighs 9 lbs 10oz and is 22 inches long! She's getting to be a big baby and has already outgrown a couple of her outfits. She stays awake longer and spends most of that time checking out her scenery. She's more interested in my shelf of nailpolishes than in the faces before her and she's beginning to clutch at things and can hold her head up. Her next step is rolling over.
She's sleeping about six hours at night, waking for a quick feed, then drifting off again for another couple of hours. It's not so bad so long as I can get to sleep at a decent hour (tonight that's not happening) . This morning, I plopped her into her vibrating chair and took a shower, blew dry my hair and headed to a commercial audition in Salt Lake City. I can't say that I have the mommy thing down 100 percent but it's not too overwhelming. Now if I could only motivate to work. I waste sooo much time playing on the internet, loading photos, emailing friends and working on the Sports Guide that I have neglected my other writing avenues. Sage occupies a significant portion of my day but more because I want her to rather than because she demands it. Like her little onesie reads "It's all about me." You also begin to feel that nothing else is as important as taking care of a child. This is what it's all about. This is what we're here for. Everything else is busy work.
My parents return from Europe this week and I may scoop Sage up and fly out to San Diego so the rest of my family can meet her. Once the ski season starts, they won't see her until the spring. She'll be seven or eight months old by that time. Plus, we have a Thanksgiving in Massachusetts that's bound to challenge even a sentry at Buckingham Palace. San Diego will be an effective trial run if I can corrdinate a time to fly.
I'm beat now. One last thing. It snowed today. It was a blizzard actually- our third winter storm in the fall. I never told you this but it snowed on the day Sage was born- Aug. 12. Ryan and I got a kick out of that. It was a sign!
More Photos: http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/pcskigal/album?.dir=/4e44scd&.src=ph&.tok=ph2jwqFB1awdge4J

Our First Roadtrip!

2006-10-04T02:42:00.000-06:00

Sage is seven weeks old. Boy, time flies when you're changing diapers and nursing. Everyone has asked me that universal question: How are you doing? I'm fine ...and probably better than most new moms from what those who have seen me say.
I don't feel quite rested 24/7 but I do get some sleep and although my tummy is too soft for my liking, I don't feel fat.
Knowing that I was never a kid person and lived quite the selfish life, you'll be pleased to know that I still get around, still go to movies and out to dinner, still have tons of fun and Sage is a dream child 80 percent of the time. Yes, there is the occasional hour or night when she's a female Damian but for the most part I couldn't be luckier or happier. She sleeps long enough for me to get 30 minutes in on my stairstepper, to do laundry, eat breakfast, respond to email and complete a 12-hour roadtrip to Yosemite. We got back last night from the national park and the poor thing didn't scream once from being strapped to a carseat for what seemed like an eternity. She wailed only when she wanted my boob and we would either feed her the bottle or make a 'nurse' stop.
I'm starting to exercise again. I was such a slacker the last few months. We climbed two days in Yosemite and I have a Stroller Strides class in Salt Lake City tomorrow morning. All I can say is that motherhood isn't as bad as everyone has made it out to be. It hasn't changed my life so completely yet that I have any regrets or feel like I've "lost myself." I tell people that having a child is like having 12 puppies. You're busier than you ever wanted to be but she is so adorable it makes up for any inconvenience. And all I want to do is hold her so I guess it's my own fault I'm getting nothing else done these days.

Sage's first campfire

For more photos click :http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/pcskigal/album?.dir=/fc4bscd&.src=ph&.tok=phGFimFBigIPPt7k

Drumroll Please...Baby Sage Has Arrived!

2006-08-20T01:37:00.000-06:00

It seems like just last week that I was still collecting maternity clothes and playing around with outfits. Today, I'm all about nursing tops. The 39 weeks flew by. I can barely remember being pregnant now except for the excrutiating contractions that preceded the big day.
The Outdoor Retailer Show cruised into Salt Lake last week and, determined not to miss an appointment, I booked up the days and made my way to Willard Bay for the outdoor demo day. Why the organizers insist on running that event so far away from everything is beyond me- especially when we have at least three other great reservoirs within 30 minutes of the Salt Palace. Instead I hauled my butt about an hour from town to hang on the shore in the 90-degree heat and meet with a few manufacturers like Teva, Garmin, Hobie. I felt fine and still no one really said anything to me about being pregnant (except when I pointed it out myself and then they offered statements of disbelief.) When are you due? they'd ask. Next week! I'd eagerly and proudly reply. If only to be so lucky. The due date came early.
I hit the show on Thursday, making all of my appointments - including the party at the Depot featuring Flock of Seagulls. I stayed the night at Ryan's place with every intention of hitting the show bright and early the next day. Then those damn contractions. Imagine your worst menstral cramps (or, guys, diarrhea) then times by 10. Every five minutes they hit, driving me to screams, pillow clutching and pummeling, and thoughts of guns and bullets. I couldn't take the pain but the hospital told me to wait until these contractions were THREE minutes apart rather than five. You have got to be joking, I thought. After three hours, the status hadn't changed but I couldn't sit around. We drove home to Park City at 6 a.m. where I collapsed on my bed from exhaustion and managed to sleep...for 15 minutes before the next round of contractions. Stef called in a prescription for Lortab and I laid low on Friday. By nightfall, I was sick of sitting in the house. Ryan and I headed back to Salt Lake for the OWIC Ramp It Up Party at Port O'Call.
The room spun and the appetizers swing-danced in my belly until I was grabbing for empty glasses on the table and hurling into them. I swear to God, I'm telling the truth. I filled four glasses with puke then covered them with napkins. It was too crowded to make a dash for the bathroom safely.
Home by midnight. Contractions by 2 a.m. it had begun again. At 4 a.m. Ryan drove me to St. Mark's. At 5 a.m. I was four centimeters dialated and the epidural flowed. A sigh of relief sped through my body. They left us in the delivery room to sleep and wait for further dialation. at 6 a.m. Stef arrived to tell me that they were going to dose me with pitocin because the epidural had slowed the dilation. More drugs? Cool.
At 10:25 a.m., game on. The head was already peeking and though I could feel absolutely nothing from the belly button down, I held my parapalegic-legs and did an upright version of ab crunches to the delight of my doctor. Three 'pushes' and out popped Sage. It was 10:33 a.m.
Ryan and I can't stop staring at our little girl. She's gorgeous. Of course, I wonder if I just think that beause she's mine but who cares. The 6 lb, 17" tiny creature is beyond anything I could imagine. She's a week old now and still I can't get enough time with her. It's hard to get anything else done as I find myself watching her every little movement and facial expression. She stetches often- like a kitten. She purses her lips like Betty Boop when she's about to wake up for feeding; she scrunches her face when she squeezes out a little green poop. And she's so quiet! Rarely cries and almost always asleep, she's too tiny for much more.
Sage isn't sleeping through the night but she's making a valiant attempt. She'll wake at 2 a.m., 4:30 a.m. and then 10 a.m. I can handle the hours (look, I'm writing this blog at 2) but Ryan is a mess and can be quite irritating when he's woken like this. He's here on paternity leave and will go back to Salt Lake and work next week. His mom has been here all week as well but she leaves Monday. She came to help out but I don't need it- not yet. So this was more a time for Grandma to bond. My mom will be here Thursday.
Well, I've babbled enough and need to try to sleep before the baby wakes and needs a boob. I've posted photos at http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/pcskigal/album?.dir=/e9dere2&.src=ph&.tok=phO3WXFB4LlCA7Fa if you care to surf over to yahoo!
P.S.-We're still in need of small Happy Heinys pocket and Wallypop All In One cloth diapers if you are thinking of sending a gift. We need about 20 of these things to start cloth diapering her but we only have 5 so far. They are pretty cool inventions. You can check them out at http://babysbottomline.com & http://www.thestorkwearhouse.com.

38 Weeks Pregnant. Ugh.

2006-08-09T00:41:00.000-06:00

The magazines aren't kidding. As I get closer to popping, my sleep has gone to hell, the baby now moves in the middle of the night instead of just before I fall asleep, the belly weighs too much and I feel like a cow. The good news is that although Stef says I'm about 70 percent effaced, there is no dilation. The baby has moved lower, head down, and it's now a waiting game. I can apparently safely make it through the Outdoor Retailer's Show which ends Sunday. The prescription for this week is rest and no sex. My doctor told me there's a strong chance that sex could induce labor and I don't want to take any chances.
The biggest downfall now with having a 27-year-old, testosterone-filled boyfriend is that he's not very understanding when I say, "No sex this week." The begging last night was borderline desperate and definitely disturbing. Nine times out of 10 I'm happy to oblige; but this week "NO" means no. And he wasn't giving up. It hurt my feelings because he wasn't listening to me and didn't care about what I needed and wanted. He kept pressuring me. It's cool that he still feels attracted to the nine-month pregnant chick but I started to get the feeling that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with releasing his 'tension.'
It was all about him getting some because he had been out of town last week. How is it going to be once the baby's born?? Stef says no intercourse for six weeks to allow the privates to heal. Six weeks will be an eternity to Ryan. I don't think we've gone six days in the past three years. I know that I can trust him but that doesn't mean he will be supportive and understanding during this period. Like I need to add guilt and sexual pressure to everything else that will transpire over the next two months. Perhaps I'm worrying over nothing and should just wait and see. Hmmm. Maybe all of my hormones are running amok and making me paranoid.
I certainly am not thinking straight after just two hours of sleep. The future- something very hard to imagine at this point. I can't even imagine giving birth, let alone being a mother for the rest of my life. There are sooo many "what ifs" at this point. I don't regret my decision to become pregnant. It's just that I could always draw an outline of my life and for the first time I'm drawing a huge blank. Check back for the final belly photos.

37 weeks....three more to go!!

2006-08-01T01:24:00.000-06:00

Whoa! Where does the time go? All of a sudden, my doctor (Stef Singer) is telling me I'm 60 percent effaced and ready to pop. I still haven't swollen up or gotten any of the usual pregnant chick symptoms. Just lots of peeing. I find that the occasional Ambien (as prescribed!) will get me a good night's sleep without running to the toilet at 4 a.m. I highly recommend keeping a small stash on hand if you are thinking of getting knocked up. When I get to that point where I am sooo tired I'm beyond able to fall asleep, out comes my little blue friend.

But I'm told that no matter how icky I feel now, once I give birth I will wish I could put her back inside.
My mom predicts the Big Day to occur between Aug. 15 - 20 (instead of the Aug.22 due date). If only Sage can forestall her entry into this world until after the Outdoor Retailer Show next week. I have people to see and places to go! Tis not the time for hospital visits.

It's getting progressively more unbearable to work. All I want to do is lie down and take the pressure off my belly. It doesn't help to have 100-degree heat for the past two weeks. Thankfully, we have rain and 70 degrees this week.

Hats off to you women out there who put on 30 to 60 pounds during a pregnancy. I've gained 19 and feel like a Thanksgiving Turkey 24-7. Only during the first few moments of waking in the morning do I forget I'm pregnant. I wake up, lie still and it's as if it were all a dream...until I swing my feet over the mattress edge and scamper for the toilet. Another tip: when you urinate, lift your belly up to make sure you totally empty your bladder. I liken it to that extra shake guys do just as they're finishing up.

Sage doesn't move much and when she does it's only a soft rolling feel, she's adjusting her position? There's just no room for her in there. She gets the hiccups a ton and that can be annoying but just like when you get them, as soon as you ignore them, they go away. They feel like someone flicking your belly from the inside with an index finger - a rhythmic thumping. She had them tonight during the movie. I went to a screening of The Descent - a horror film about a group of girls who go caving and find themselves stuck in a cavern with these subhuman naked dudes that feast on them one by one. The tension from their trapped situation alone was enough to get my heartrate up. What a ride. I screamed my head off. I'm sure that's not something most babies hear in utero. If you've ever wondered whether horror films can bring on labor, I'll let you know.

Ryan is home this week visting his family and has asked me to wait until he gets back to have our baby. Uh, sure, Babe. My mother and father were here last week and then Ryan's mom will be in town as soon as the baby's born. Nothing like a pregnancy to get everyone involved I guess. But I welcome the attention. I'm completely at a loss and expect to feel overwhelmed shortly. All I know about babies is from what I've read recently. I never had to raise any kids; and babysitting was just a way to make some extra bucks on weeknights when I was 13.

My mom has surprised me. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but she has gone from pretending I'm not pregnant and telling me "this is your thing, you'll have to do it alone", to flying out here, taking me shopping for baby stuff and going to the doctor with me. I tried so hard not to let her aloofness bother me that I had no idea how much I really needed and wanted her love and support through this experience. It was incredible having them here. They got to see my growing belly in the flesh and not just here on my blog. Better late than never!

I think the house is just about in order. Tenaya's been groomed, the baby clothes washed and organized, an overnight bag packed for the hospital, my friend Deb (the coolest B&B owner in Park City- Old Town Guest House) on standby for the ride to St. Mark's Hospital and soon I'll set up the bassinet in my room. Thank you again for your gifts and hand-me-downs. I couldn't have stocked up like this on my own. No way. So a zillion hugs, kisses and good karma to you.

I have another doctor's appt. on Wednesday. Check back this weekend as I'll let you know what Stef says.

33 Weeks and Ready Rentals Takes Advantage of Pregnant Woman

2006-07-07T07:10:00.000-06:00

I must have brought Utah's weather to New York. Yesterday was surprisingly cool- I almost needed a sweater. Today the report calls for 80 degrees, sunny and DRY. Talk about lucky. This visit is my last 'hurrah' for a while because despite being too small to notice, my doc has grounded me after this jaunt to New York. On the agenda for the past three years, it was time to see old friends and try to drum up new business with some of the magazines here. Plus, I had a hell of a week. First, the seller of this rental house I wanted in West Valley decides not to repair a roof he knows is rotten and I waste the inspector money as the sale falls through and then I have some sort of brain aurism and hire this lame company called Ready Rentals Cleaning Services to scour my home before the baby comes.
The quote came AFTER they visited my home. $300. I DID think the quote was high- how many people do you know that make $300/day, especially a cleaning lady? I was willing to do it- this once. I believed that I would be getting my money's worth. That's what they told me! You see, I wanted every particle of dust, dirt, dog hair, etc. removed; a hospital-like clean, like one of those you get just before you sell a house; like what Ready Rentals advertises! And there motto is "Cleaning Homes Not pockets." Riiiight. I believed the price was so high because they were going to do that kind of job. What I got was a $70 cleaning job. A woman and her two teenage daughters arrived at 4 p.m. (instead of 3 as agreed) and I was worried that they would have to return the next day because any other time I have had a cleaning crew of even two people it would take five hours and I really didn't expect someone to be cleaning at 9 p.m. on a Friday night. For $300, you should be getting a crew of 9 people if they think they're going to finish (doing a great job) before nightfall.
Donita worked hard, I'll give her that, but every time I peered around a corner or walked into a room I caught a kid sitting around, leaning against a wall or casually stroking a baseboard with a sponge or dancing a slow waltz with the duster. At about 8 p.m., Donita annouced she was almost done. I walked into what would be the baby's room and nothing had been touched, not the floor vaccuumed or the window sill wiped among everything else. Then I went into the kitchen, put my hand on top of my overhead microwave and felt the tackiness of old grease (main things you do when 'deep cleaning' or even regular cleaning for that matter). She said, 'oh yeah. we forgot. We'll get to that." I knew now I was in trouble. At 9 p.m. everyone left the house to get something to eat. I got back at 10:30 p.m. and they were there cleaning; one person essentially, 6.5 hours. Had I been paying $60 I would have felt bad and let them leave. For $300, it wasn't nearly enough. That's why again, I acccepted the estimate. I wanted my house germ-free for baby and to get what I paid for. Up to this point I hadn't said anything because I did believe that they would come back if they had to or stay all night to finish the job they promised to do.
Then I get a call from her husband asking where she is. I explained that she showed up at 4 and that's when he told me that it usually only takes them 2-3 hours to clean a place (for $300??? That's insane!). I told him that she had a lot of work to do and was surprised that any of them thought they could get done in three hours ( I have a 2100 sq foot house, three bathrooms). He sounded frustrated and angry. I told Donita about the call and she grunted and raised her brow like I should know better than to keep her here this long. At this point, I felt I had been taken but was determined to make them clean as promised so that the experience would end this way.
This woman was here thinking she could get away with a few hours of wiping here and there then walk with $300 of my very hard-earned dollars. That's a month's rent! Anyway, this was when I took a closer look around the house. I ran my hand along THE TOP of my kitchen counter and my living room coffee table and felt the bumps (and saw the spots) where there were still dried food particles- the kind where you simply lick a finger and they rub off. I ran my hand on the kitchen floor and felt rough patches and stickiness- stuff any housecleaner would get if they were doing their job. I looked in the corners behind my plant in the kitchen and the floorboard was filthy and dust and doghair still piled there. They didn't move a single book, plant or box to sweep, vaccum or dust. What cleaner do you know gets away with that? and defintely not one you're paying $300. The handles on my kitchen fridge had not been wiped down, the plate in the micro untouched, dead flies below the kitchen window and on my living room window sill proved they hadn't been attentive in the least.
I pointed all this out and asked for it to be done and that is when she fought me, claiming that they did these things. Was I blind? I went to my bedroom, ran my hand between the carpet and baseboard near the side of my bed, and pulled a baseball-sized wad of dog hair from the area. That took me two seconds. SHE SHOULD HAVE DONE THIS WHILE SHE WAS CLEANING. I showed her this. You can't sell a house unless that's gone. In my opinion and my two roommates who were here as they left, this job was done half-assed.
She argued with me that they had cleaned. I couldn't believe this. I'll admit that my house was dirty but it didn't get that way between her visit for the estimate and a week later when she showed up to clean. She looked around and saw what was needed. I paid her to do the job - a DEEP clean fit for a newborn- and she should have offered to come back or reduce the price if I was unsatisfied.
In fact, her service order stated 100 percent satisfaction guaranteed.
I said I was not satisfied, not happy, at all with her 'job'. She said they were done and wanted their money. It was midnight, I was tired, frustrated and frazzled, and a little scared. These people know where I live now.
In hindsight, I should have written a check I could cancel the next day but I couldn't find it at that hour. I gave them cash, actually expecting her in good faith to hand me some of it back since I had the good faith to attempt to pay and voice my dissatisfaction. They ran off, never cleaning the entryway tile or front door (another thing every cleaner does and which they said they would get on the way out). In the morning, my roommate spent an hour cleaning his own bathroom. When you pay someone to clean your home, you don't expect to have to clean again in the morning. For one thing, there was urine underneath the toilet ring and the toilet handle still dirty. I looked around in the daylight, even more dismayed.
I called Donita and asked for $100 of the $200 back- which, though was not fair in my mind it would at least put me at ease. She argued with me that when they clean, they clean empty homes and that they never spend as much time cleaning as they did at my house so I wasn't getting any return. "We don't move furniture," she said. Yeah, but what about just the stuff you can see? The stuff every other cleaning person gets? I told her then she shouldn't have quoted me or promised to do the job I wanted if they couldn't provide it. At $300 I couldn't ask for too much, you know? Even $200 is more that she deserved but at least I wouldn't feel robbed. Which is exactly how I felt when they refused to honor their guarantee. And now I must add a small claims case to my list of things to do next week. You can't "guarantee" money back for dissatisfaction and then not give it. I feel like these people are sharks. Yes I was a fool to ever agree to pay that much, to let this woman in my house without references and to pay with cash. Maybe it was my hormones not letting me think straight. I learned a very expensive lesson and can only hope to prevent the next person from experiencing my frustration and financial pain. There are plenty of cleaners out there that won't take you to the cleaners. Why even bother with one you're not sure of?
This NY break has been amazing for my soul. Quite restful comparatively. Carol Ann's cute, little one-bedroom has a daybed and A/C. It's in the midtown/Flatiron area and with the subway, I can get anywhere. Today, we'll check out the Bodies exhibition. Toodles.
blogher;pregnant

32 weeks, er, 8 months pregnant

2006-06-30T19:46:00.000-06:00

This week's ultrasound checked out fine. No, better than that. Turns out though my belly is small, the baby is exactly the size she's supposed to be for 32 weeks. I'm just wall-to-wall baby; with her head tucked under my left hip bone and her butt under my right ribs. So that was the pinch that keeps nagging me just under my ribs. My stomach organ is actually under my sternum now. No wonder I never feel hungry. The scary thought is that with eight more weeks to go, where's she going to grow into?? I'm beginning to have nightmares that a foot will protrude from my throat and a hand will jet out from between my legs long before her due date (Aug. 22 for the memory impaired ;) ). Here are the ultrasound photos that Millcreek Imaging took. I love that place. I had one ultrasound done at HealthSouth in Park City and they were awful- the customer service I mean. It's tough to describe but at Millcreek they answered all of your questions and concerns, described the procedure as like a football play-by-play and acted happy to have you there. At HealthSouth no one even said goodbye to me as I left. And they take better photos :). See for yourself. I think Sage has Ryan's lips.

30 Weeks

2006-06-17T08:46:00.000-06:00

Greetings from Lake Charles, Louisiana! It's cloudy, rainy and grey this morning but what do I really care when I'm inside a hotel all day?
BTW, flying a puddle jumper, standby, to anywhere longer than 30 minutes away when you're pregnant is extremely discouraged. Trust me and I'm not huge. The woman next to me had a comparable belly at 20 weeks where I am 30.
Still, my back, butt, tummy all cramped. Those Skywest seats were made for Eva Gabor's dogs not humans. Hot and hungry- I forgot to feed us much more than a couple of Fig Newtons before take off and all that is offered in flight now are biscotti and raisins. Of course, it would have been much worse had I not even gotten on the flight and had to wait it out at the airport until night for the next available seat. Talk about a sore ass. I got lucky. The return includes first class so I'm looking forward to that.
I'm home next Wed.. Some of you might think I'm silly to travel to the sweltering, bug infested, humid SE state in July in my third trimester but I plan to stay indoors or by the pool, sleep often and show off my new clothes from Prana. (The capris and tops will be worn long after the baby pops as they are stretchable, comfortable, sporty, stylish and way cool. I'll try to include a flashy pic from the conference). The reason I'm really here is to attend the annual outdoor writers conference. I missed last year's event and because it's always so inspirational and motivational I had to come this year. I get to meeting new writers and suddenly my brain's a tilt-a-whirl with new story ideas and ways to market myself. Plus, the conference paid my way since I'm one of their featured speakers. How could I resist? I guess the mommy card will now be a part of my writing forever so I need to hunt for new ideas. And that's ok. I want to share what I learn.
My belly's growing and the doc is a little less anxious. She ordered another ultrasound for me on June 27 just to make sure Sage still has 10 fingers and 10 toes. But the heartbeat's strong and she moves when she should.
Aside from a glitch the other night, Ryan's been a doll. I got up to pee at about 2:30 a.m. backed up to the seat and dropped in! I screamed, "God Dammit, Ryan! You left the toilet seat up." and he woke up cracking up. It was everything I could do to maintain my anger and not laugh too. Although it was funny, I was pissed. He doesn't wipe the rim down and it was sooooo gross. Why can't men understand that when we use the toilet 70 percent more than they, we get the say?? Plus, it's late, it's dark, I'm tired and I back into the thing. It's not like I KNOW that the seat ain't down. Ugh. At first, argued with me and put up quite the fight but the next night the seat was down. That's all that matters. :)

The Baby Shower

2006-06-05T15:45:00.000-06:00

Eleven weeks left and counting. The most incredible part about being pregnant(aside from having an alien grow within you)is that you learn so much about an entirely foreign topic. Like someone about to depart for South America for three months, I've delved into every kind of research possible including networking, magazines, TV shows, books, classes and even prenatal yoga. And I'm not a Yoga person; but stretching seems like a good idea at this time.
I walked into class and the teacher asked me if I was pregnant! I had to lift up my shirt to show her my little tummy and prove I wasn't making it up. I'm small for 7 months but Stef says it'll be ok. Hell, I'm psyched I won't be birthing a 12 pounder. Apparently because I'm fit, I tend toward the small side.
Rest easy. I am beginning to show. Especially when I wear tight tops. But it's all in the stomach. No round face or arms. And the baby's kicking up a storm lately. At the baby shower, girls teased that I was just pretending to be pregnant to cover up for my boob job. No, I'm really pregnant. The cleavage is just a welcome side effect.
Speaking of the shower- Thanks, everyone for creating such a diverse, unique afternoon of fun. The guests ate, drank (a lot) and were pampered with products from Mountain Body in Park City, massage therapists and Lucy the manicurist. They purchased toys from Polly, the Passion Party consultant, listened to an off-beat woman talk about self-healing and angel spirits and were treated to the acoustic sounds of the Masturbating Hearts. David Baker provided the icing on the cake by appearing in nothing but a shiny green thong. The gifts were great. I went home with five Hefty bags of kids clothes. I'm still in need of bigger items but Park City yardsaling has proven quite effective.

Healthwise, I am doing well. Spent two days last week at Solitude Resort as a featured skier in Cold Snap - a Sci Fi Channel movie about giant spiders that attack a ski area. I'm down to only one pair of ski pants that still fit me. Sigh. But, again, unless I flash bare belly, no one notices. Hiked yesterday in Summit Park and did my stair stepper this evening. Tomorrow, I'll try to climb. I just got a full-body harness from Petzel to keep the pressure off my tummy.

26 Weeks

2006-05-19T01:22:00.000-06:00

On my end, I couldn't be having an easier pregnancy. I'm more than six months and still wearing all of my clothes and not attracting attention as "putting on weight" or being pregnant. Unfortunately, my doctor isn't so psyched. Apparently, I'm on the small side, anemic and borderline gestationally diabetic. Very scary stuff. The orders are to eat better, take iron supplements and get more rest. The small part, Stef said, is to be expected because I have small hips, waist, etc.
I know that I should be eating better but that reality check shocked me out of my diet of Oreos and French fries. I'm going to turn green; I've never had so many veggies in my life. Tonight Ryan and I sat down to spinach salad, steak and brussel sprouts. The first time ever that I've cooked brussel sprouts. But I don't want a stupid or sick baby so I'll do what it takes. Yesterday's ultrasound showed a very healthy kid that's on the small side. Stef needs to get back to me, though, for confirmation.
My baby shower is this Sunday. I'm excited to see everyone but I kind of wish I was bigger to give them something to pat. No one has reached out to try to touch my tummy yet (a good thing since I don't like strangers touching me). Only Ryan gets to do that. :). Speaking of whom, it looks like he's 100 percent on board. I didn't plan for this because I was afraid to be disappointed. But now that he's actually excited about the baby, I couldn't be more excited myself. He's been adorable- making sure I eat right, joining me for my baby sign language class; and we have open conversations about the birth, logistics, raising Sage and what to do if she wants to watch South Park with us. Even his family has been supportive and happy for us. Both his mom and his dad sent me congratulatory cards, ask regularly how I'm doing, and when Ryan called his mom this afternoon, she was out shopping for baby clothes!! I never in a million years dreamed this could happen. Sage is one lucky little girl.

24 Weeks!!

2006-05-01T15:39:00.000-06:00

Onto my quick update of the 'sitch'. Six months this week! I'm still fitting into my size 26 James Jeans cords I got this winter at the Sundance Film Festival. Take a look at the photos shot this morning. Thank the fashion gods for low-rise waistbands! I even wore a Lee Jeans denim mini when Ryan and I dove into the Tavernacle last Saturday night for dueling pianos.
At times I'd like to hold a sign saying, "I'm not fat, just pregnant" but Ryan says no one would even think I look fat...yet. Charming ;). I went to TJ Maxx last week and upped my cup size to 'C' . Wahoo! Kristen exclaimed that it looks like I had an enhancement. I've been extremely lucky so far- no swollen anything, no debilitating pains, no continuous nausea, no skin breakouts (whew!), no stretch marks, no significant mood swings, no loss of 'desire'. I feel an occasional wiggle down there that reminds me I really am pregnant. I'm sure that will change in a matter of days but I'm counting my blessings so far.
My spare room will soon become the nursery but because Ryan is living in SLC and not here (he walks to work), we have to double up on the big items. So far, I've collected a Peg Perego high chair, Graco Pack n'Play and a handful of kids books from yard sales and my friend Karen gave me some Avent baby bottles, two carseats and some Pooh posters. My collection is growing steadily.
At friends' requests (because I had no idea people even did this), I registered at Babies 'R' Us at Amazon.com but I'm digging the hand-me-downs. Why let perfectly good baby stuff go to waste?? The baby shower is at Kristen's house at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon, May 21. Ladies, email me for details if you can make it.

Open Blogging

2006-05-01T15:10:00.000-06:00

Conservative parents of America, I hereby apologize if you are offended by my reference to Ryan's fascination with my "improved" breasts. But can you honestly say that your husband or boyfriend didn't respond the same way? Maleness is universal. I just happen to be the one unafraid to speak frankly.

I love being edgy! My mom wasn't too pleased by my honesty and I'm sure Ryan's mother was irked as well. Who can blame them really? This is not a situation either would approve of, let alone understand. But I doubt there'd be anything I could say that would make it all better right now.
They are both wonderful women but it's their loss, really, if they can't understand or can't get past the open language because then they miss that smart, funny, caring, logical, constructive person inside. The girl who will stay up all night with you after you find out your boyfriend is in love with another guy, the one who writes your resumes and sets up contacts and interviews for you, the one who will pick you up from the airport at 2 a.m., the one who walks you through sending an email attachment (when you should know this by now) or isn't afraid to tell you those pants make you look fat- if you ask, of course.
I'm not a private person. If I was, then blogging would not be an option. For the most part, I don't go hogwild anymore at the dinner table but that doesn't mean I'll sensor my own blog. Jeez. This is me, Folks. Freedom of speech in all its glory and I'm not embarrassed or ashamed to mention sexuality, motherhood and low income in the same space.
Like Howard Stern's producers once said, "While, the average radio listener listens for an average of 12 minutes, the Howard Stern fan listens for an average of 42 minutes because they want to hear what he'll say next."
Pig Vomit: Ok...but what about the people who hate him? "Good point," they responded. "The average Howard Stern hater listens for 52 minutes."
Pig Vomit: But if they hate him why do they listen?
"The answer most commonly given, 'I wanna hear what he'll say next.'" Ironic that Ryan loooves Stern.

Extra! Extra! Hell Freezes Over

2006-04-14T23:36:00.000-06:00

"Most people speak up around 12 weeks," said Stef. I guess I should have said something months ago but my usual wacky life got in the way. After Sunday, only Snowbird will run full steam so it is time to reflect and fess up; I've logged about 70 days around Utah so far, been working on the Sports Guide, writing and entertaining friends and friends of friends throughout the season. Who has the time to stop and consider that I'm PREGNANT? Up until now, it just hasn't felt real. The amniocentesis from last week, sealed the deal. I'm having a healthy baby girl.
I still fit into my clothes, no one has asked if I'm getting fat or done something different with my hair, and I haven't slowed down one bit. In fact, I won the women's division at the Ski Utah Media Day race last weekend, I'm working out at the gym tomorrow and skiing Alta Sunday.
At 22 weeks (five and a half months for those mathematically challenged), I'm feeling a bit pudgy (but only I can tell :)) and frustrated. I'm not used to the extra pounds (8-9). I can't believe I - of all people - am going to be a mother. You probably can't either. But experts say it's different when it's your own kid. I can only hope.
Before anyone asks how I'm doing, they wonder about Ryan, my hunky, charming, sweetheart boyfriend of three years. When he's not playing with my enormous (to me) breasts, he's freaking out. At 11 years my junior, you can see how this might be a shocker. But he's also been incredible- showing up to the ultrasounds, the amnio and getting me pink lemonade in the middle of the night. I've told my parents and he's dreading telling his. My mom, by the way, has essentially disowned me and my dad, threw me off by reacting with a cheerful, "I'm not sure how I feel about this but I suppose I will think about it for a few days and see,"
We don't know where things will stand with us by the time the baby comes (August 22) but that's ok. Ryan and I went into this knowing that there was a good chance I'd be a single mom. I didn't expect anything from him (except his sperm if he was cool with it). You see, about a year ago I decided I wanted to try for a child because my window of opportunity was rapidly slamming shut on my fingers. We spoke at length and when I asked him where he stood, he replied, "I'm your man!" And he is right. He's the kind of guy I want somewhere in my life forever. Even if he bailed tomorrow, I will always love him. I could never hate him or blame him.
The whole concept of being a parent frightens me. Especially doing it alone. I have no savings, a freelance writing career (i.e. no income) and a selfish lifestyle. But millions of women around the world make it work - with less smarts and money than me - so I'm encouraged. Like my mom said,= when I told her, "You never did anything the traditional way, why should this be any different?" Not to mention that with a late summer due date, I won't skip a beat when it comes to ski season. And now I can become a "family travel and baby product writer" on top of my other niches.
My close friends, of course, wonder, "Why? You always hated kids." All I can say in my defense is that in the past few years kids became 'cute' rather than annoying in my eyes. I knew that I didn't want to wait so long that it was too late to have kids and then regret never trying. I want a family of my own. I'm not close with my brother or sister. And when my parents go, I'm alone. I don't want to be alone.
So there you have it. My big news. The sad news is that my insurance doesn't kick in until after $5k so I'm forced to beg, borrow and garage sale to even get to birth day. If you have any maternity clothes or baby stuff (or know someone who does) or just want to offer advice, I'd be forever indebted and will gladly return or donate anything that comes way. My address is 8827 Gorgoza Dr., Park City, UT, 84098 but I'm happy to pick up your hand-me-downs if you don't live too far away.
Thank you all for wishing me the best and not doubting my decision. This is something that I want and there's no turning back. I promise to blog more regularly now that I've got nothing to hide. Hope you tune in for more tales and trials!

Where Did Winter Go?

2006-03-05T00:25:00.000-07:00

Taos Ski Valley, NM, is like the poster child for global warming this season. Poor guys. I've been hanging at the Austig House motel/hotel for the past three nights, cruising the mile and a half up to the base of the resort to watch the diehards eek out whatever turns they can make on 30 inches of manmade snow that will now soon melt away. Snowmaking ended recently because the their forest service says so.
Al's Run looked like vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce all over it- the sauce being dirt. The ski school, fortunately, has chugged right along as many beginners and intermediates continued to show up for those infamous ski weeks and toasts at the martini tree. I was actually surprised at how much of the mountain was open given their snowfall this year. Crews have worked diligently to spread that manmade around and make it stick. ooh boy, were the runs firm- even in 60 degree weather. Easterners, though, probably were psyched. But, truthfully, one day on the hill was enough for me. Without sharp edges, you're hanging on for life with every muscle gripped in tension. I can wait. I know that back home there will be plenty of freshies from the incoming storm headed our way. Instead, I've eaten myself into a coma this weekend. New Mexican cuisine is yummy. Lots of spices, kick, mixed flavors; tonight, for example we ate the Apple Tree in downtown Taos and I had chicken enchiladas in a blue corn tortilla with mango/green chili salsa. Our waiter served everything with a smile as we sat among local art for sale on the walls and the hum of diners from around each corner of the restaurant's mazelike seating arrangement. I highly recommend the place.
I fly home tomorrow. Maybe I'll finally be able to kick this cold and nausea doing a number in my tummy ever since I got back from Brazil last week. Ryan's buddy Chad got married in Campos de Jordao and two days later in Ubatuba he was flattened by the flu. As luck would have it, Ryan and I were the ones sharing the tiny car with him as we drove four hours to Rio for my flight to Utah. I swear I'm like a virus magnet. So long as I'm around healthy people, no worries. One person with a nasty case of something and I'm its next victim.
Speaking of Ryan... we are still going strong!! Three years next month. I bet that freaks him out to consider but at the same time we both agree that it's just "easy." Of everyone I've ever dated, this one is the healthiest, most normal and least high maintenance. Sure, I worry that one day he'll simply pack up and move home to Massachusetts without even saying goodbye (thanks, Greg, for giving me that issue) but what can you do? If it happens, I survive and move on like I did before. Each dude has been better than the last. Let this be a lesson to you, Girls. Never think that you'll never meet anyone better than your last guy. YOU ALWAYS DO.

Sundance Arrives!!

2006-01-23T16:18:00.000-07:00

Sundance Day 2
I woke at 7:30 a.m.. That's three hours of sleep. The zzzs'll have to to come in February. It's because of skiing. I have friends in town that wanted to make turns at The Canyons and they could care less about the Sundance Film Festival. So I had to go, because this was my only chance to catch some of this fresh snow before everything got nuts on Main Street. Skiing and Sundance are separate entities. There's just no time to do both or you wind up sleeping only three hours.Like me,
The Fest is about the movies, the meetings, the swag suites and the parties. Try to do both and you're toast. After a few hours on the hill, I cruised into the SkiHouse on The Canyons' plaza. At first, it looked subdued- cubed sofa couches, muffled lounge music and a smattering of seated guests. Mac gifted tinted lip sticks with SPF15, a perfect item for the harsh outdoors and Prive Salon dolled out products to protect your hair from winter's elements- like the Reparative Conditioner ($29) made with Rose Hips and ginseng to leave dry hair baby soft. The facade deceived. I stuck my nose around the corner and into a warehouse-sized space filled with what you might call "apres ski" companies showering gifts on the fortunate. 2BeFree's handpainted grafittied sweats, ts and tanks were not only hip but some of the softest items yet. Hanes had these four-way stretch, sheer "Perfect Panty" that never rides up, and leaves no-panty-lines. I can't wait to try them under my new Sacred Denim Jeans. It's better to have my 'fans' check out the painted pockets than my bulges. I shared a shot of Patron Anejo Tequila with other VIPs, chatted with Ashley Dearborn (ashleydearborn.com) about her line of boutique shoes, which she began drawing at 14 while watching Purple Rain and other favorite movies. The Vineyard Vines boxers and ties with little two-people chairlifts all over them were irresistible. The exit led me through the Booty Parlour section and, boy, was I surprised to see bright pink sex toys and all sorts of body slathering accessories. This is not nromal Sundance swag. My eyes alighted on the Midnight Cravings Love Kit (with pocket vibe, massage oil, lubricant, condoms and disposable vibrating couple's ring) soon to be added to upscale mini-bars worldwide. "[Sundance] is an intimate setting where we can talk one on one but celebs aren't chased by paparazzi as they hold the Freddy or BlingBling vibrating ring," said Booty Parlor Owner Deb Myers.
A treacherous, snowy drive up to a giant house in Deer Crest (back side of Deer Valley) delivered me to The North Face House where the during and apres activity theme started today, continued. From your morning coffee spurted out by the Tassimo Personal Hot Beverage Maker, to Wigwam socks, The North Face base layers, hats and gloves, to the cozy Keds, and sleek, westerny Lee Jeans (that always fit me, oh so well), celebs like Rob Lowe and Aisha Tyler marched Park City in style. Ski athletes Scott Scmidt and Ingrid backstrom, represented TNF, to get those VIPs out on the hill at Deer Valley and actually testing their gear throughout the week. I need to mention right now that you can spend 10 days at Sundance and never see a movie. I ran into a Beverly Hills Bank exec who showed me his itinerary which was packed with meetings and parties; no films. He smiled proudly.
At The Marquee- named after the New York nightclub and meant as an exclusive high-end gifting house- Paris Hilton, Elizabeth Shannon and corporate women swooned over Intermix (upscale online and NY 'fashion destination') and LaRock's boutique rabbit vest and beaded tanks. The new Godiva drinking chocolate was almost better than sex and the AG baby blue cords hugged me better than my boyfriend.The Sundance 'exclusive' Lia Sophia black diamond hoop earrings and intricate olive green Linea Pelle leather belt complimented the outfit. For those wondering how to keep the figure for these clothes, TABEnergy, a revamped TAB drink, just launched their diet energy drink.
Gifted out, I raced home to shower change and head back from the Method Fest party at Easy Street. Though the bar was packed, there wasn't a single recognizable face. Open bar to the rescue. Ryan got off work and we walked up a frigid Main Street to Harry O's to catch the end of the Damian Marley show but it was too late. We walked back to Easy Street and snuck into the premiere party for "Thank You For Smoking," a film getting a fair amount of buzz at this year's Fest. How do you get in? There's one famous move I nearly forgot. Wait for a group of people to get ushered under the rope (because they're on a list or know someone) and attach yourself to them. They usually don't do a head count. We closed the party and went home at 2 a.m. to sleep before I did it all again.

Celeb Sightings:
Paris Hilton working the sidewalk in hot pink and white pleather with full-face white plastic sunglasses. It looked like one of those Disneyland characters had stopped for the tourist photo op. Anne Heche, with long blond hair and looking slightly mousy and annoyed, stood behind me to get into the SkiHouse main gifting area. Shannon Elizabeth and Laura Prepon worked The Marquee room. Gwyneth Paltrow dined at Prime Steakhouse on Lower Main but I only saw the back of her head. Apparently, Rob Lowe and Aisha Tyler had hit up every major gifting suite because where ever I went I heard, "They were just here." Terrence Howard hung outside the W Las Vegas Tent waiting for his celebrity poker match to start; Lance Bass and Amber Tamblyn walked out of the Fred Segal Store loaded with bags from Timberland, Pony, Rocawear and Bric'ss Luggage.

Where'd They Come From?

2006-01-08T01:02:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's me, but I'll be damned if Utah isn't more crowded than ever. Lines everywhere! Even at Deer Valley. Of course, I still know my way around them (except last Tuesday at Snowbird when we made two runs in three hours!) but still. It's nuts. We hit PCMR today and thank god for the fast pass access. I didn't have to wait in line with my special dealio and even got 10% off of lunch at the Summit House. For anyone wondering about the conditions, despite a couple of very warm days, the snow is soft and plentiful and the weather report calls for 5-10 inches by tomorrow evening. PCMR is grooming enough of their mountain now to give DV a run for their money but since the trails are longer and wider you don't get buzzed as often by over-zealous intermediates screaming down the hill thinking they're rockstars on rentals. But if you don't have that fast pass and you hate standing in line, you're better off at DV. PayDay and Bonanza were pretty thick. I never made it Jupiter because my friend Carol would have hated me and never skied with me again. We stuck to those buffed groomers off King Con and Silverlode. I'm digging the food these days at the Summit House- best on-mountain pizza and chocolate chip cookies I've ever had. The food's always great at DV but I'm angry they raised the price of their turkey chili. A bowl is now about the same price as a burger (no fries)! arrrgggghhh. Tomorrow we're doing either the Bird or Alta. I'm calling ahead to see what chairs/runs are open before the final decision. I don't want to get skunked again by liftlines. BTW< if you're at all concerned with crowds, check out Snowbasin. They're even running a January two-for-one special. Solitude is another good bet. The b-friend bought a dual Alta/Bird pass so we're committed to Little Cottonwood whenever we ski together.

When?

2005-11-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

I've finally returned. Writing in a blog is like writing in a journal. Once you skip a few days, the thought of catching up becomes daunting- so much to tell and so little energy. But then you wait a whole long-ass time and all of sudden you can encapsulate and it's not so bad anymore. I'm currently waiting for it to snow in Utah while sharing Thanksgiving dinner with the folks in Carlsbad, Calif. It was gloriously sunny and warm today - both in Park City and San Diego- unfortunately. This is one of the driest holidays I've seen in a decade.

Weatherbug forecasts snow starting Saturday and it's about time. Other than bumming out about skiing a foot of manmade snow on one run at the handful of open ski resorts, life is good. Ryan will move out of my place and down to Salt Lake next week to take a job with Fidelity. Since he can't drive, he needs to be close to TRAX. I'll miss the boy but because he took the nightshift, I now have a regular Snowbird ski buddy this winter (as opposed to last, when he worked at Wells Fargo all day). I am in the process of finishing my kitchen remodel and looking for people to rent my spare room so I can start paying off the tab on that one. Oh, and I spent last week in the Dominican Republic. What a cool place to sit out the pre-season ski blues- we surfed, kiteboarded, road horses and did this hairy, challenging sport they call cascading- kind of like canyoneering but not- we actually hike UP waterfalls in helmets and life jackets then ride down them or cliff jump into the deep pools below. We did 12 waterfalls and the average leap was 20 feet. Wahoo!

Well, I'll be home Saturday and can update you on the storms and whether it's worth booking a trip out to Utah. You can also tune in to www.onthesnow.com and look at my Destination Resorts reports. BTW, if you hear of anyone looking for a ski instructor, have them contact me! My Christmas schedule is filling up fast but we can work something out.

Hurray. Floorspace is Found!

2005-07-19T18:00:00.000-06:00

I found an understanding friend. Thank you, Paul, for opening your just-sold home to us even though you are shuffling crazily to move and find a new home for yourself. It's refreshing to find others willing to take a chance even if they are a grown-up. Yeah! L.A. here we come.

Woe is me.....

2005-07-19T11:24:00.000-06:00

Why is that as we get older we lose our sense of hospitality? When we were in college, we crashed on floors with our sleeping bags and shared beds with platonic friends. This happened all the time, everywhere. We repaid the favor by filling the fridge and offering our homes in return. And friends took us up on that offer. We preferred the familiar to a hotel bill. We saw this as an opportunity to bond not as a chance to freeload. Well, ok, it’s also to save money. I am coming to Los Angeles July 22-25 for a class that cost me $225, a plane ticket that was $182 and a rental car that was $120. I also have to fly to Idaho and Atlanta in August, Massachusetts and Virginia in September. So, yes, if I don’t have to pay for a hotel, all the better. But to me, I would rather have friends stay with me than at a hotel anyway. It’s rude. (I had one ex-boyfriend, however, that chose the hotel because my house isn’t clean enough for him. Well, that I understand. I don’t organize my soup cans and color code my towels.)

But now, those offers to “come visit me” have dried up. Friends are married, have kids, want a quiet place to retreat after a full day at their “grown-up” jobs. Their once anxious calls to visit are replaced with “there’s no room,” “my place is too small,” “we are in the middle of moving,” or my favorite, “Now’s not a good time.” Guests get in the way.

Because I’m single and freelance, I have a difficult time understanding this mentality. Even when I rent out my spare room, I’ve got a couch and living room if friends need a place to sleep. I may be busy and never see them but at least they won’t have to shell out $100/nt someplace or crash in their car. My family is even worse. My sister, the (anti)Buddhist, said I could use her tiny Silverlake apartment while she was in India. One week from the visit, she sends me an email with a bunch of excuses that basically said, “I’ve changed my mind. Find someplace else.” This, after everything I’ve done to help her, from giving her pet advice, to asking my friends and contacts to help her with the weird music she creates, to trying to patch things up between her and our dad (who cut her off years ago). She wouldn’t even be there to feel my presence yet it wasn’t an option on second thought.

Makes a person feel bad about themselves. Was I a lousy houseguest at some point? Did word get around so that people I’ve never stayed with won’t open their homes? How come no one ever said anything to me about it? I know that I shouldn’t take this personally but out of 10 calls to find housing for this coming weekend in L.A. only one kind soul said, “If you can’t find anything else, then I suppose….”

I really want to know. Why, when we get older, do you not have room for an out-of-town guest for three nights? If you do and would love a place to stay in Park City come winter, send me a note. I’m happy to return a favor.

Happy 4th of July!

2005-07-04T17:04:00.000-06:00

So, what I did on the 4th: NOTHING! After three days of pure play, I laid low. Ryan got a hall pass to party at the annual July 4 Parade on Park City's Main Street this morning. He called me at 4 p.m. trashed and wanted to get together. Anyone who knows me, knows that being around drunk guys when I'm sober ain't cool. I told him to enjoy the day; I was going biking with Stef and would watch the fireworks show tonight.
The trails are drying out and because I've got the raddest Specialized MTB- the Women's Pro-Stumpjumper- I am finally looking forward to rides around these here hills.
I almost went skiing to celebrate the holiday. Snowbird closes today but I couldn't find my pass. But I did haul Ryan up to Snowbird on June 26. He whined all the way. He complained that he was done with skiing. He “wanted to mountainbike. but yet again, Jill gets her way.” I told him that he could bike any old day this summer but how many times would he be able to ski? Unless he had a trip planned for New Zealand or South America that I didn’t know about, the answer was ONE. Today, June 26, 2005. We made it on-hill by the crack of noon. Skiers, boarders and sightseers in flip flops shared our tram space. Despite the infectious positive energy, Ryan still looked sore about not getting his bike ride. I reminded him that skiing is good for the soul; especially when it’s 75 degrees, reggae music’s wafting from the Plaza, you’re in a T-shirt and sunglasses and the snow still covers Great Scott. After 10 turns in Little Cloud Bowl, I saw that smile planted squarely between his reddening ears. The one that said, “Now what were we talking about?” The one that said, “What troubles?”
For just a few hours, we were sharing runs and forgetting the workload, the bills, the phonecalls we had to make, the bike ride that wouldn’t happen today. It was April in June; soft, spring-like corn snow on the upper trails and sticky mush as you approached Little Cloud chair’s tiny liftline. We even forwent the tram download, opting instead to ski/hike our way to the base for one last hurrah. The mud patches we squished through provided that reality check. Winter is over. Almost overnight the slopes will cater to wildflowers and hiking trails… and mountainbikers. We now have four months of sailing, rock climbing, kayaking, running and biking ahead of us. Season ski passes are already on sale at some resorts and a few eager (i.e. fanatical) ski freaks will use the summer months to cross train. Not me. Now that we have storage-waxed our skis and boards, forget about them for awhile and live in the moment. Our Utah summers are short. It’s time to hit the dirt!