shit happens

spent 8 days out on the east side of boulder mountain recently. was working in the field...again. the experience was not unlike deja vu, but included new students, new co-staff, and new hikes, so i guess one might classify it as a unique experience. in the end i shat in the same old holes, slept in the same old dirty clothes, and ate the same old meals out of coffee cans. i will say that it was beautiful - really really really really really gorgeous out there. i will also say that despite the student who collapsed sobbing face down into the dirt with his pack on his back (he recovered a bit muddier for the wear), and the frightening experience of being on top of a ridge in 3-count lightning (frightening might be an understatement), i had a really great time out there.

sitting at the country cafe wednesday night with the rest of the outgoing field staff i enjoyed a buffalo burger and a beer (ok - 3 beers) and the raucous hilarity that only can come from a bunch of adults pent up with teens for a week. to say that we were appropriately quiet, used appropriate language, or were at all appropriate would be a big fat lie. wednesday nights at the cafe are our time to let off steam about the week and cater to all of the whims of the id. its when we complain about our students, make dirty jokes, tell old tall tales of battle in the desert trenches, and plan our weeks ahead.

the whole experience only serves to add fodder to one of my ongoing projects. i have been collecting stories from wilderness, student affairs, and life in general to write book about working with other people's kids. at this point i have some great tales, a couple of really interesting chapter topics, and about 100 pages of text crammed into my tiny computer. i thought i might put out a few highlights from a chapter about shit - mostly because i think it's just funny! i mean, who does not enjoy a bit of bathroom humor minus the bathroom???

if you have any stories you think i have missed or would like to contribute please please let me know!

- superturd - a residence hall staffer gets called in to help deal with a log so big it won't go down the toilet. calling in the 'laser pee' technique and a couple of sticks from the yard, superturd is eventually vanquished.

- freshness guaranteed - wilderness student misinterprets the 'pack it in, pack it out' philosophy and seals more than his toilet paper up in a ziploc.

- poopytort - on a mission to locate a missing student, staff learn that tortillas can be used for more than eating.

- shit mitten - wilderness student digs up more than he bargained for.

- the phantom pooper - who's office will they hit next???

- tater turds - wilderness staff discover a little more than freeze-dried mashed potatoes when preparing for a meal.

- personal hygiene - a group of teenage girls come up with a way to avoid carrying their used toilet paper around...just don't use it. allow me to say that their hygiene technique was called 'the shimmy' and did not include wiping of any kind. by the time we figured this out the group had enough yeast to bake bread.

that's all i have for now. have really been enjoying turning these crappy tales into eloquent prose. hope that the list makes you laugh like it does me!

go nomadic - again...

when home has no place to park

guess i won't be going there...

thanks to those of you who have sent me kind words and well-wishes of late. if you don't already know yes, jason and i split this week to head on separate paths. his leads him to earn 'dirt time' on organic farms, looking for skills and experiences on which to build his school. at the moment mine consists of picking up some shifts at aspen and continuing my job search.

drove from moab to county last night. the rain was intermittent and i could see bits of orion peeking out through gaps in the clouds. summit curled up against me in a way that reminded me of the first day i got her. we drove through the night to twin falls idaho. after refusing to get into the car and eventually throwing up on my gear stick she simply sighed, decided she could adopt me too, and lay her head across the parking break onto my thigh. last night she lay like that all the way to notom where we threw down for the night.

i find a simple pleasure in returning to this way of life. i have what i need, i go where i want, and the bills are low. any pressure is further eased by rolling back into the place where everybody knows my name. ten minutes i'd been at castle rock when a friend walked over from the next door business to clap me on the shoulder and give me a hug. not too shabby for 7:30 in the morning. i'll head to the power plant next and visit with tina before watering my plants at the poho and hunting people up at the mansion. eventually i'll get to loa. not in any rush though.

i will not say that i don't want my own place. i want a nice place with a yard for the dog and wireless internet. if it had wooden floors for yoga and a gas range i'd hole up and never leave.

yeah...i get it, i should cut the hyperbole.

i will say that at this moment my desire to bounce around and be footloose and fancy free is about 50/50 with my need for stability and space. i guess what i am doing on integration and balance is working. i love the romanticism of moving with the wind, of pulling up my tent stakes (or bivy stakes in my case) and seeing where i end up. i like doing what i did last night - driving until i came to an open space where i can see the milky way and just camping right there. i love calling up a friend and dropping in for an extended couch visit - cooking them meals and leaving the kitchen a bit cleaner than i found it.

then again i also relish in the safety and comfort of familiar faces - of not having to read the menu because i already know what i am going to eat - of waking to my photos on the wall in a bed made up of my own linens. i love that quiet release in my heart when i walk into the smell of my own place in the dark and know what it will look like when i turn on the lights. i want my plants around me, not languishing for lack of water in a mostly empty house. i want to curl up in an oversized armchair and scan my bookshelf to reread chapters from something dog-eared and friendly.

i need to find a way to serve both masters.