On the train ride to the airport hours before our plane ride to Hawaii, boy turned to me and said, “you realize if we don’t have fun on this trip we’re breaking up.” My jaw dropped to the floor before I started cracking up laughing. Because it was so true. Really, if you can’t have fun in Hawaii with your significant other, there’s a BIG problem. Fortunately, we didn’t run into that problem.
Tahoe proved no different. I’ve never felt resentment of going some place spectacular and missing out on something I thought was awesome because he wasn’t in the mood to go to the top of a mountain or go down the 2.5 mile trail one more time. We’re good travel mates. And if you’ve ever traveled with someone who gets whiny and in a grumpy funk over one bad meal or a lack of ability to make a decision about what to do next, then you know how nice it is to have a travel partner that matches your pace and priorities perfectly.
In between the most awesomest snowboarding, I snowshoed twice a day with Jack. When we arrived the owners’ yellow lab, Kona, came up to the driver side door to greet us and Jack went nutso. I think Jack thought this whole vacation was for him (you know, because that Chem and Physics final stressed him out so much.) He hopped onto the bed right away and sprawled out before we took him on an evening romp through the snow.
I took Jack snowshoeing in the mornings by myself not so much because boy has a problem with snowshoeing as much as he has a problem with mornings (he works at 5am, so any chance he gets he sleeps in.) I can’t explain what I like about snowshoeing without getting super excited and cheesy, so here goes… I took over 100 pictures that first morning out there by myself. Being out there in the woods with the snow killing all the sounds around so I all I heard was the crunch crunch of my snowshoes kept a smile on my face. I wanted to capture the glitteryness of everything. Jack could go anywhere he wanted but mainly stayed at my heels because he got wobbly legs where the icy surface tension wouldn’t hold him above the snow. Maybe partly because the air was so thin, but it was so clean – a combination of which could have led to me taking pictures of the bark on trees and the frost on sticks convinced that these things are the most beautiful things EVER! And that fungus, the stuff growing on that tree stump?! Wow. And then the last morning, Jack started to get a bit wiggy. As if in staring at me, ears back, head low, tail down before turning all the way around and running back along the trail to the cabin. I was talking out loud to him “what’s the deal, dude? You love this! Why are you running?” He did it a few more times but I kept going knowing he will always follow me rather than go off by himself (I love this about Jack. He will always come to me instead of running off, it’s a reassuring cattle dog gene.) About an hour later when we returned I told the owner what Jack was doing and how weird it was. His response? “Bears. You don’t think to look up, but there was probably a bear in a tree. They scout out their prey from the trees.” Umm, huh? Shouldn’t they be in hibernation? In any case, I so wish I would have seen one to get a picture.
In the evenings we sat in the adirondak chairs by the fire roasting s’mores while Jack and Kona did laps around the fire in between begging for marshmallows. And you know that feeling after a vacation? The one you want to hold on to, the lack of tension, glow in your skin, the lack of self-awareness about what my hair is doing or what I’m wearing? Yeah, that. I thought about it. What I was really dreading about going back to work. I arrived at this – I hate trying to dress nice and do my hair and look decent for the office. What you may not realize, but my friends can testify to, is that I am extremely self-conscious. I hate trying to look nice, I can’t put an outfit together to save my life and I hate trying to smooth out my hair (it’s frizzy folks, unless I don’t wash is for days and truth be told I mostly wash it every 3 days, if not longer. You may think it’s gross, but I say it saves me hours of blow drying and straightening.) I read over at Working Girl blog that advertising and marketing careers are known for being fashionable. Not this working girl. I’ve declared too many times that a job where flip flops and jeans are not allowed is not for me. Am I whining? Yes, but it’s sort of a problem. I can get stuck in the mirror forever in the morning not satisfied, trying way too hard, afraid of being judged for not trying harder. I sweat too much to wear fitted shirts (yeah, I don’t know why I sweat so much, just do. Doctor’s response – it’s a sign of good health. Tell that to my fear of raising my right arm too high in public.) I am a tee shirt and jeans girl. So, there. That’s the pimple on face since I’ve been back. It’s the self awareness that came with leaving the woods and returning to the cubicle when I don’t thing I quite belong.
And it’s the last few days of freedom before a I hunker down for Physics II and Chemistry II. I know, you think I would get a break with getting a B in physics can all, but that was just the first half! On to magnets and oscillations.