Orlando Day 1- No Disney Just Dizzy

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

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.

Skip School and Still Ski

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.

Why Can't The Ski Day Start Later?

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!

What Should I Do?

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?