Swinging Things

Although it's still early in the season, I feel like I'm getting a handle on how the flow of life goes. I have today off after three days in a row of actually working at Starbucks. Working the espresso bar is really fun - it's a huge adrenaline rush, which sounds kind of bizarre but it's true. Other than that, I am convinced Starbucks is nothing but glorified fast food/airplane food. According to the corporation, each customer should spend no more than three minutes from the time they step in line until they get their drink. Yeah. Right.

So what am I doing on my day off? Skiing, you may ask? I most certainly am not. "You can afford to be picky now that you actually live here," my boss said yesterday, and she is one hundred percent right. Why deal with tons of tourists and crowded icy slopes when I can hang out in my warm apartment and wait for the real snow to come?

Although in all reality I'll be outside loading wood into the tarp-pulley system Jeff rigged up to get all our beetle kill from the haphazard pile where we were chopping it up to our apartment. So not looking forward to this day off - yesterday I got a huge, triangular splinter in my finger which took me 45 minutes of poking and prodding to get out. I tried two different pairs of tweezers, the big blade on Jeff's pocket knife, and finally used a safety pin (unsanitized: we couldn't find the lighter) to rip my skin open cell by cell until I could wrench the darned thing out of there.

Today I'll wear gloves.

A Thanksgiving Miracle

Thanksgiving away from family is always an utterly depressing experience. I have had the grave misfortune to be in such a predicament now for two years in a row. Last year was spent in the company of fabulous friends, all of us pitching in to create an America-worthy feast in the heart of the Middle East.

This year, I found myself in a completely different situation. Holidays are, of course, the busy season, so naturally I was working most of the day. One of my roommates was with family friends in Denver, and the other with a friend around here. So there I was, hypothetically all alone, until a friend came along and suggested I join them at a local church that provides a free Thanksgiving meal (and, incidentally, free dinner every other Friday). But when I got out of work, I found they had already gotten hungry and gone to the church without me (some friends, right?). Quite disappointed, I headed home to a lonely night with rice and frozen (homemade) cookie dough. To my surprise, en route home, I got a call from that same friend, offering to bring me a to-go church Thanksgiving dinner. Relieved I wouldn't starve, now all I needed was some company.

Lo and behold, about twenty minutes later, I got another call. My friend and his roommate (who was driving, apparently thinking he was on a racetrack) had ended up in a ditch* about half a mile away from my apartment, and my friend was now walking the rest of the way to bring me my dinner.

After a while he arrived, styrofoam to-go box in hand chock full of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and green beans. I threw it in the microwave and he stayed, and I had a Thanksgiving dinner replete with the necessary full tummy and good company.

Holiday: Saved!

*Remember, it's winter in Colorado - this isn't such a big deal. Think puffy white clouds of snow.

There Will Always Be Another Sunset

(I apologize for the headiness of this post title.)

My four day weekend is rapidly coming to a close, as it's back to the corporate mind number (as in numb, the sensation, not number, the counting mechanism) at 8 am tomorrow. If only I had a trust fund, and could ski all day without having to work. Although I have to say, the timing is quite appropriate as I can now do these same three runs with my eyes closed and the ice is getting old and I'm seriously over dodging children and idiots on narrow icy green runs. I could use a few days with a distraction (and an income) while I wait for more snow.

As for the sunset, I was walking up from the bus stop with my hot chocolate* when I chanced to look at the sky. Always a good idea out here - I don't think I'll ever not be awed by the sheer impressiveness of the mountains. Anyway, the sky varied between vivid pink and bright blue, and these shades reflected off the whiteness of the peaks. It might sound trivial but that's the thing about sunsets. They're absolutely breathtaking yet fleeting. Knowing I wouldn't have time to find my camera and get a good shot, I comforted myself with the knowledge that there will always be another sunset.


*Hot chocolate from the Mountain Grind, a coffee shop cum cafe cum gelateria cum fudge shop where they bake all their own pastries as well as bread for their sandwiches. My heroes! Unfortunately they are not hiring.

Day Three

I woke up (at 11 *guilty face*) this morning to oodles of text messages informing me of the four inches of fresh powder that had fallen during the course of the night. So naturally I sprang out of bed, only to find that everyone was already at the mountain (so surprised) and I had missed the best of the powder morning. Not to be discouraged, I figured packed powder was better than ice and I made my way over to the slopes. Having mastered and been bored by the open green runs over the last couple days, and sick of almost hitting little children sitting in the middle of the narrow, icy path, it seemed the perfect time to venture over to the open blue.

On the third run of the day, third day of skiing, I found myself at the top of Larry Sales, peering down a slope a bit steeper than I had been expecting. Piles of powder and small patches of ice stared back at me. Luckily it was too late to turn around, all though my pride had already gotten the better of me and I was pumped and ready to go. On that first run I made the mistake of trying to turn in the middle of pile of powder and found myself staring the snow in the face. No worries; I got right back up and continued on my way. After briefly stopping to take off my goggles (it was pretty shady and I couldn't see very well), I looked down and realized a huge icy stretch lay ahead. Well, I couldn't very well expect to take it easy going down there - quick turns and stops were out of the question on that slick mess. "F*** it," I shouted to my friend, and went for it.

Such thrills! That was all the boost my confidence needed, and after two more blue runs sans falls my quads were ready to quit on me. It's only November and here I am, hitting the blues...I can only imagine what December will hold.

Anyway, I must now turn my full attention to my grilled cheese sitting right here (homemade bread, portobellos, spinach, and Tillamook cheddar) and dream about the days of skiing to come.

Here they come!

I went by the resort this morning to get my schedule for next week and to pester the guy at Goody's about a job, and I decided then and there weekend skiing is not my style. It was packed (relatively speaking), and the lifts had just barely opened for the morning. I can only imagine how dreadfully icy the two runs will be by the end of the day today. I had been thinking about doing a lesson this weekend, but on second thought, mid-week might be a bit less hectic. Understatement. I have Monday and Tuesday off so, assuming it snows which it's supposed to, I'll hit the slopes on those days. Keep me away from these weekend crowds!

On another note...

Apparently one day of renting was enough for me. I took the plunge today and invested (yes, of course this is an investment) in ski boots (and a helmet, and two pairs of socks). In classic Audrey style, I tried on four or five pairs and then went with the first ones I tried. BUT now I have my own skis and boots and helmet and goggles and I can go skiing anywhere! No more renting! My own gear! This is so exciting. Skiing world, here I come!

Got Free Time? Ski!

I skiied today! Third time EVER. It was pretty sweet. I mean, considering the total number of runs open was 4, 3 were green and only 2 actually reached the base, it was pretty decent. And I only fell once. And it really is JUST like ice skating, except obviously skis are longer than ice skates. We did the same run about five times, but it was a good warm up. I now realize how cool it is to be able to ski while you work (or are on break, or afterwards, or before, or whatever). Unfortunately it's all just an excuse to spend more money, as I'm going to need boots, poles, and a helmet...

And It Begins

Yesterday was opening day at Winter Park. Wahoo. There were about three runs open, and at work we probably had about five customers all day. (Today we had ten. Huge improvement.) Despite the slowness of the early season, the excitement of winter was almost infectious walking around the village the last two days. It's in the air and it's in people's eyes. Ski season is here, watch out!

The Grinding Grind

First day of work today.

That's all there is to it.

Oh, you want to hear more, you say?

Let me begin by saying I think Sara Deane was right when she said the corporate environment is not for me. That is not to say I don't think I'll enjoy my job - I think working in Winter Park with the people here will be awesome. It'll be a ton of fun, and I'll learn how to barista in the meantime. That said, Starbucks training is worse than MGMT100 (anyone who has ever been anywhere near Wharton knows what I'm talking about). The company actually pays someone to develop this training that involves "educational" videos, handbooks reminiscent of the Terra Nova testbooks in Elementary school, and an environment fueled by kitchy acronyms and motivational quotes. I actually spent 4 hours of my life today "learning" that if a customer has a complaint, listen to them. Be nice to customers. Be nice to coworkers. Be cheerful and energetic. Know your product. Chat.

Is it just me, or is all of this common sense? Now I know what they say, that common sense isn't so common, but you'd think a group of 20-somethings, all with previous customer service experience, could be grandfathered out of this absurd, idiot-proof training course. I mean, it has MODULES for crying out loud. I get that Starbucks has to sell their name and the "Starbucks Experience" as much as their coffee, but I'm not sure it takes a workbook and an hour of patronization to figure this out. A simple one-liner would suffice.

But it is what it is and I can't do anything about it, except resolve to try to avoid large corporations at all costs in the future.

Silver lining? At least we get paid.

Probably the worst view ever.

If I chose to look out my bedroom window, this is what I would see. Can't complain.

High Rise

Trying to get myself off my incessant TV-watching kick, I've been doing wholesome things like reading, cleaning, and 'rithmetic. Inspired by a lack of edible bread products at the local Shop'n'Save (perhaps I was spoiled by my summer job?), my afternoon activity was to challenge the high-altitude gods and make my own bread. Having read up on some of the effects of 9,000 feet on yeasted doughs, I proceeded as usual. That is, I proceeded without a recipe and only my gut to guide me. It guided me to an uncertain combination of yeast, water, sugar, bread flour, oats, salt, and some pumpkin seeds for good measure.

Any guesses on the outcome? Well, knock me over with a feather, but it worked! My dough rose and I now have a loaf of warm, soft, chewy, fresh, home-made bread.

Over-unders are being accepted on how long the loaf will last, though.

All In a Day's Work

Today is my second "official" day in CO. As such, it seemed high time for some adventures.

After an accumulated five or so inches of snow over the last forty-eight hours, somehow it got into our heads that an adventurous drive up to some mountain tops was an excellent idea. I mean, we had 4-wheel drive, right?

Well. It was pretty excellent - I mean, the view was nice - until on our way up a particularly steep and icy slope we encountered a Suburban coming - or rather, sliding - down the one-lane "road" and frantically waving us back down the way we had just come. So smarties that we are, we reverse down the hill until we find a nice ditch to rest in while the Suburban slides on past and spins out into the same ditch about twenty feet further downhill. As a gaggle of men heave-ho the Suburban out of their ditch and on their way down the slippy-slidey hill, we try desperately to get our car out of its predicament. A few tire spins later we're back on the road, only to spin into a ditch again just about where the Suburban had. Now, the snow-pack was so slippery you could hardly walk on it (in fact I definitely wiped out and fell - hard - on my tush), and here we were about to go in reverse down this steep slope; ditch on one side, drop-off on the other. We fretted a few minutes until we saw another pickup truck coming on down the mountain. To avoid them hitting us, we ran up to their truck, and asked them for help. Lo and behold, they had chains on their tires, so they could do things like grip the snow and stop and maintain control of their vehicle in general. So together four of us pushed the car out of its new ditch and one of the nice men coached our driver down the steep part of the hill until we reached a spot we could turn around and thenceforth creep slowly down the rest of the way.

So. Lesson learned. Next time you want to go up into the mountains on snow-packed roads, bring chains.