oh, all that i know, there's nothing here to run from. and there, everybody here's got somebody to lean on.

every evening at eight-thirty, my sister's alarm clock goes off. "good morning hillary. it's time to get up and take your medication," my dad's voice cheers from the four inch plastic cube. the first time i heard it i almost hit the ceiling. cartoon cat style. clinging to the tiles by his bare little claws.

some ladies that i love.

i heart wawa.

morning walks with the marley dog. a little alone time and a yummy breakfast. wawa coffee (with soy milk) and a muffin from sweet potato cafe.

i wanna talk about it. all the crazy things that we can not tell. i wanna turn back the time. i wanna live in the story i tell.

this is what today sounds like.
sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, sipping malbec, and snacking on ceviche and tortilla chips. chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. music low. lightening bugs flash outside the screen door. the wind blows the curtains back, holds them suspended, momentarily. falling softly back in place. catching up after a long day of arts and crafts and gardening.

this is what i sometimes dream my visits home would be like.

instead i find myself standing in front of the sink, washing the dishes my sister has let pile up, while she sits indian style on the couch across the 300 square foot space, channel surfing with my mom. the television blaring at high volumes to accommodate my mother's hard of hearing and my sister's proclivity to heavy breathing. hillary shouts commands and spills coffee in her lap. caffeinated. she'll be up all night. and she comments on my silhouette. i'm too skinny except for my thighs. and my butt. and my chubby cheeks. but i have good hair. so it's okay.

sometimes it's really hard to come home. i have to mentally prepare. relax. breathe. let things roll. when i get anxious my insecurities fly to the surface. food issues rally and i become self conscious and irritable. and it's hard to ignore my sister's pokes and prods and needling comments. but i do. or i try my best. and i bite my tongue when she taunts my mom with accusations of special treatment. always comparing herself to me. complaining that i am the favorite. that i am loved. more. and i roll my eyes when she isn't looking and choke down that lump. the one that rises when my little voice whispers in the back of my mind. "dad likes you best. so i guess we're even." sometimes i just want to shut her up. tell her to shut the fuck up. but it's no use. we aren't playing with the same rules. we aren't even playing the same game. and i feel ashamed and embarrassed that i would even try to compete.

the weather has finally cleared. and we were able to walk in the state park. five miles through the trees and along the creek. hillary complained the entire way. but i walked ahead. and tried to make light. it must be hard to be her. and be uncomfortable in her body. and be wary of other people. and have such a short attention span. so we retire to her living room. piled onto her futon watching movies that don't suck and snaking on humus and tortilla chips. and watching the sun cast shadows across the carpet. and feeling the breeze blow over our bare feet. planning the dinner we will prepare together. and getting excited about this evening's episode of glee.

well, i am getting excited. hillary and mom are skeptical. how can you question a show about random burst of music and synchronized dance? real life needs a little more music. when i was little hillary and i used to choreograph dances to michael jackson's thriller album and our favorite, madonna's like a prayer. this video brought back so many memories of fifth grade. hillary and my version wasn't quite the production but it one of my fondest memories of our time growing up together. family is good. even when they are hard.

headed down south to the land of the pine. thumbin' my way into north caroline...

for the second time, in as many ski seasons, i have had the pleasure of venturing a little further west to soak up some sun and sand in the desert of utah with a few of my favorite telluride folks. this year's adventure found us in moab for one glorious evening by the campfire, and then two fun filled days in goblin valley. climbing mounds of hardened dirt and hiking slot canyons. feasting by the fire and sleeping under the stars. it's a good time to slow down from the slowed-down life. telluride is simple living but things tend to get hectic the last weeks of the season. there are moves to be made (just lugged all my belongings three blocks down the valley to a new awesome home for the summer. wait til you see my view!), jobs and unemployment options to be sorted out. parties to attend and friends to say farewell to. i have gotten quite good at most of the aforementioned. i can pack and move in an afternoon, work keeps slipping into place miraculously, late nights at the bars are a welcome interruption to my previous 4:45am wake-up calls, but the goodbyes still get me. it still hurts to know my favorites will be a little farther away than i would like. and sometimes there's the possibility i may not see them again. but paths tend to twist and turn and i wait and hope for the next time they cross or merge for another adventure.
so i've moved all my things into a new house. piled high in the corner they will wait for my return. i've got a little traveling to do in the mean time. utah was just the start. thrown on the front leg last minute, but much needed and very delightful. watched sunsets with the boys. made some new friends around the campfire. was reminded how small the world really is. as if the arching dome of nightly stars didn't impress that point enough, i come to find my new friend jay is cousin's with my ol' charlotte friend tim. i love random connections. after exploring the rocks and sand i headed east with my trusty sidekick marley dog and dave byers, our newest partner in crime. he is headed for the appalachian trailhead in georgia, and i said i would be much obliged to take him, if he would let me document his first steps. so the journey goes. now off to charlotte, north carolina to see my "family" and photograph my friend's wedding. looking forward to some southern hospitality and catching up times. bring on the hushpuppies!