The Usual

It’s the little things that make you happy when you are traveling: getting on the right bus, having a friendly conversation with a stranger, or learning a new word in a foreign language (“mina olen cow hi yo elda” = I’m from Kauhajoki (city in Finland)). When you’re home, it’s much harder to feel pleased after small successes like these. Instead of feeling pumped about these little surprises, you begin to have expectations and feel angry when things happen less than perfectly: Fuck. I missed the bus. Who is this weirdo trying to start up a conversation with me? Why does she always call it “loo roll”?

Today, I almost felt as if I had forgotten how to blog. Being here in a comfortable place is dangerous. You have to start working 100 times harder to get a good story. When you are traveling, everything, and I mean everything is inspiring: a picturesque sunset, a bustling market, a wretched smell, an expression on a child's face. When you are living your real life, it takes a lot more to get inspired.

I mean, work is work.


Snowboarding is snowboarding.



Parties are parties.


Good times, for sure...but are they newsworthy?

Take Mezaluna, for example. It’s the usual après hangout for me and my fellow adult ski and snowboard instructor friends. I know there are a lot more interesting things going on in Vail, because, well, it’s Vail. There's always something to do in Vail. But, I can’t ignore my loyalty to Mez. It's the place I go to after work. It’s my “Cheers” bar: “the place where everybody knows your name…” Everyone unofficially meets there after the lifts close. Jodi, the bartender, is awesome and takes good care of his regulars. He knows my ‘usual’; Either a $3 Corona or a top shelf Gin & Tonic (code for: giant glass of water with a lemon). I’m a local.


It's time well spent swapping stories and having conversations with coworkers and friends. We can giggle about the time the crappy snowboarder came hauling across the skiier bridge screaming "On your left!!!" to an accelerating snowmobile; and the time Jayne got tripped by her student, falling on his skiis, and had to get stitches in her butt.

In honor of our loyalty, our hard-core crew has covertly started signing our names underneath the bar...

So even if we’re not there, we’re there in spirit.

Maybe it's not newsworthy, but it's worth a blog, to say the least...