Bondurant?

A day with cowboys, open skies, running antelope, beers and best friends.

Living for about four years in what some consider, "one of the most beautiful places" or as we know it Jackson, Wyoming you begin realizing that although beautiful this heavenly slice of the West will never be something that we can call our own. Most of us begin the inevitable departure from our beloved town, to bigger cities with more jobs like Chicago, Philadelphia and New York in hopes of gaining real-life career experience, replacing the care-free days of ski bumming and aimless adventures for stability and the small possibility of making enough money to someday return to our oasis of the West.

This year, however, my friends and I spent the time and energy to organize a reunion-- gathering in a small area outside the skirts of our World Famous Jackson Hole, to an area off the grid and not known. We met for an annual western horse riding event called a poker ride. Given horses, beers, and a BBQ we rode for a full day with no strings, careers, or cell phone service holding us down and distracting us. It's a classic event with true cowboys and cowgirls and, although most of us are inexperienced, this cowboy culture surprisingly embraced our slack reigns, crooked hats, and uncontrolled horses. It's a day worthy of making a tradition and one we wake up to the next day sore, tired, and dusty thinking, "I can't wait for next year in Bondurant...whoot honk."

Do you scream?

Last summer I bought a Cuisinart ice cream maker at a garage sale for $12.

A not so new concept, fully realized.

Today I came across an article about emotions and although it's a slightly heavier topic, I find it fascinating. The basic concept of the article was about fear based emotions and they can hold you back. In life, you can often fall victim to these thoughts and you can become angry, sad, jealous, bitter etc. Growing up my mother would always tell me, "Rachel, think love over ego."

I always would hear this, but I think it's finally beginning to make sense these days. I think fear based emotions can become so debilitating it can literally freeze you and make your heart race. It brings on anxiety and depression and it's a vicious cycle. I'm sure most of you have had these feelings overcome you. It's natural when you've been down a path that has upset you. It's easy to revisit and it's hard to recognize when a shift in conscientiousness is necessary.

I remember my mother once was so angry at my brother David for breaking an antique door handle that she was absolutely fuming. David, in his typical hyperactive state, had slammed the door and snapped a piece of the door latch, which was passed down from a great grandmother. Resisting the urge to tear off his head, she instead took a small piece of masking tape and wrote "I love David" on the tape and put it over the broken latch. She had wanted to see this on the latch every time she used it, instead of seeing the broken piece because it upset her so much. Parents do theses types of shifts all the time but for me it is a clear example of how you can make a conscience decision to chose love over anger.

...by the way. He was still assigned the typical Porterfield punishment of having to write a 600 word essay on his lack of control.

A lot of bones

For around $485,000 bones you can buy this T-Rex head. Probably the coolest thing to stumble upon late night on St. Patty's Day.

You can also buy a T-Rex tooth for $3,000. T-Rex teeth always trump shark teeth.

Mexican Moto Travel

Last summer our friend Scotty decided to embark on an adventure of a lifetime.

He packed his RV and hit the road with motorcycles and provisions en route to nowhere more specific than going South. After a few months of parking his "land whale" in the kite surfing town of La Ventana, Mexico, Scotty is shaving the comfort of shelter and space within the RV lifestyle and moving on to phase II of his Life Adventure, Mexican moto travel. Scotty is no stranger to travelling, but this is a different trip for him. It's solo, it's in an unfamiliar country with an unfamiliar language, and he's doing it all on a bike.

I love this feeling and I'm jealous. Most of you guys know what I'm talking about. That mixed concoction of adventure, excitement, nervousness, fear, and adrenaline. The unknown and the unfamiliar. The abundance of smells, tastes, and wonder. The "oh, that's amazing" and the "oh, that sucks" feeling. The comprehension that you honestly will have no idea what's around the corner...

Here's to Scotty and his newest adventure, because travelling is not a vacation.

What's your major?

Keg stands are not a Faux Pas here.

This may be redundant to those of you who know me... But I'm always comparing our Mountain Town to my College Town. It's uncanny how the years tend to parallel each other.

Freshman year in College = You have the excitement of being somewhere new. Everyone is attending some type of costume party while wearing scantily clad cavewoman, sexy secretary, or cowgirl costume.

Freshman year in a Mountain Town = You have the excitement of being somewhere new. Everyone is attending some type of a costume party while wearing scantily clad Aspen Extreme, Hotdog, or 80's gear.

Sophomore year in College = You shift from the dorms to a house. You start hanging out with that one guy. Your close friends are formed whether it's regional, dorm connection, or, for some people, club or greek related.

Sophomore year in a Mountain Town = You shift from the apartment to a house or visa-versa. You begin to go "ski" dates or "climbing" dates. You form a good set of friends from either your region (South vs. East coast), from work (ski school vs. restaurant), appropriate hobby (climbers vs. anglers) or, in our specific case, the "Ex-Wives" club (when you date guys in the same house).

Junior Year in College= You part ways with your man and study abroad. You drink French wine and German beer. It's great to leave and it's great to return. You're never the same.

Junior Year in Mountain Town = You part ways with your man and you backpack in a 3rd world country. You drink Beer Laos and Gallo. It's great to leave and it's great to return. You're never the same.

Senior Year in College = Oh, no. I'm broke and what's my next step?! I need to declare my major!!

Senior Year in Mountain Town = Oh, no. I'm broke and what's my next step?! What's my major again?!!

Many people decide to move to another mountain town, or to switch it up and try a surf town or a biking town! Credits do tend to transfer, so if you were a rafting guide one summer, that will help in your transition. The extra credits make it easier acclimating to the new "adventure" crowd and you have the added bonus of having experience, which could land you a similar job. If you really want to stick it out and commit, you can become a 5th year or you can begin dating someone established, "aka" a professor of the region! This usually includes some real estate agent, a lawyer, or a local boy whose family has lived here for generations.

A few people decide to move "off-campus" and choose to live in Wilson or Victor, both are towns that reside about 15 -30 miles away from the main resort town. I decided to do this my Junior Year. It's a chill, slightly older, crowd that has lived in the region for a few extra years. It's great, but at times you start to miss the convenience of being "on-campus". Not everyone's story parallels mine, some people take A.P. credits like Calculus or NOLS, so they take a different path.

Ok, since I've declared my major, I've gotta start studying... I want to get accepted into that nursing school in a surfing town, that way ALL of my credits will transfer.

Laser Cat

http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/

AND

http://www.sexypeople-blog.com/

Obvious hinting...

Gift from my roommate's parents on her 25th birthday

Where Did You Go?

It's no mystery to my friends that I lose things easily...

Daily living requires me to be organized and, like any normal person, my living space begins falling apart when the pace of my day-to-day happenings increase and, like any intoxicated person, when I surrender to three week alcohol induced benders. That's when things really start to turn up missing. In the past two weeks I've lost the following:

1). Brand new driver's license (no joke 1 week old). STATUS: Recovered and returned from a friend of a friend of a friend who recognized me.

2). Down Cloudveil Jacket STATUS: Recovered and returned from friend who thought it was hers and saw my facebook status highlighting my plea for its return.

3). Headlamp in pocket of down Cloudveil Jacket. STATUS: Lost by friend who took aforementioned jacket. She agreed to go "halfsies" on a new one.

4). Swimsuit left at the "secret" spa I poached. STATUS: Hotel has kept it and given it to employee's developing teenage daughter. Karma's a bitch when you steal services.

I usually can avoid the above happenings if I stay sober and, this is groundbreaking, keep my things together in one spot like a purse, wallet, etc. What drives me crazy though isn't the stuff I lose when I'm drinking. Let's be honest, I'm intoxicated and I pretty much deserve it when I leave my credit card open at the bar or when my license slips from my butt pocket. Yep, these situations are almost inevitable after a few cocktails and it's something I've come to expect from my other half.

For me, I feel the gut wrenching pain when I lose earrings. I'm always losing earrings and--like an old boyfriend--I just use the appropriate Freudian denial technique and lock it away. That is until I suddenly run into an old picture and the memory of its existence comes flooding back. Often I'm cruising on facebook checking out old photos and I think to myself, "Oh, my hair looks much blonder there, what a fun day with the girls...waiiitt a second! Oh no, look at those earrings peeking out from behind that hair! Damn I loved those!! Ughhhhh"!

Earrings are not something I just randomly purchase. As a pre-teen, I begged my mother to let me have my ears pierced before the "appropriate time" which was to be granted when my "gift from Mother Nature" arrived. I guess my persuasion pulled off because we ended up at the mall (not the doctor as my dad thought should perform the procedure) at the ripe age of 11. After a quick pinch and a quick faint in the checkout line (blood levels were low from the excitement), my focus on shopping was forever changed. Some friends shop for shoes, some shop for scarves; when I enter a store, I shop for earrings. I love them. I love the appropriate color, length, and vintage-ish style. I gotta have them and they become little extensions of me and my style for that day. I love them so much, that when one disappears, I still keep the other one. I fantasize that one day I will find the other one and if not, I will eventually combine all of them together and form a beautiful necklace in honor of their lost twins...

Who knows? Maybe they are independently resting safely with independent socks and Elvis in Heaven.

By the way, in case you were wondering, if I had a choice, I'd skip "Pie Heaven" and join "Missing Cute Earring(s) Heaven".

Sigh... one day.