come as you aren't - but think about it first

on my morning walk i discovered two new graveyards in my neighborhood.  before you, my wilderness awareness friends, get on my case for not noticing them, please know that when i say 'new' graveyard, that is exactly what i mean.  ghosts, skeletons, witches, blow-up giant spiders.  yes, we are talking about the wonderful world of Halloween decor.

i like halloween.  i always have.  when i was a kid i used to angst over what i wanted to be because the costume had to be - just - right.  i remember one year when it was supposed to snow during trick-or-treating that i pitched a fit when my mom made me add layers to my costume.  as an adult i don't take it nearly as seriously, but i do love being able to deck out in something creative and let loose.  this has led me to some interesting situations such as the one (and hopefully only) time that i punched someone, the time i spent my evening being stalked by bender, and the year that a gay man told me i had the best breasts he'd ever seen.  monsters and mischief.

another thing i like - google Images - though i like it not because of its fun-inducing potential...quite the contrary.  i have found that google images has become for me a window into what is wrong with people in the world - or at least a chance to produce some kind of evidence of it.  what i mean by this, is that in using the google images site i can see what other people think about certain things.  since the search engine works by looking at the words people put with pictures, one can quickly get a look at a large number of word associations and images that reflect a dominant view on whatever one types in.

i started thinking about this when i was working on a presentation on women and athletics for a conference on women's confidence.  all i wanted was to get some stock photos for my powerpoint presentation, but when i typed in 'female athlete' i started realizing the paradigm-revealing potential of google images.  sexualized and often not photographed doing their sports (instead in swimsuits or tight dresses), i was faced with a screen full of images that run right up against bettis' assertions about strength and beauty (love you pam!).  i shifted to a search of male athletes and i found a lot of the same.  i then started to play around a bit.  a search of the word 'leader' got me clip art, but 'leaders' became images of white men in power suits, 'bisexual' got me lots of girl-on-girl kissing as did 'lesbian.'  mind you, i am not saying that any of this surprised me - it was just interesting to see stereotypes and paradigms played out so visually for me.

yeah, so back to halloween.  one thing i don't really like about halloween is how it reenforces gender stereotypes.  just go to any place selling costumes and you will see what i mean - pink and blue aisles filled with kids costumes that tell little girls to be princesses and little boys to be superheroes or athletes.  the only time i have seen gender become fluid on halloween is when i lived in northampton, ma (home of smith college and lots and lots of gay people) and i went out to the local gay club for the night (cue story about the gay man and my breasts).  at one point i danced with a person who was biologically female dressed as eminem, and a person who was biologically male dressed as cleopatra.

when i have worn costumes that are gender-bending i have generally been met with mixed reactions.  one year in high school i threw together a last-minute costume for a party out of things around my house.  the only theme i could come up with that had enough congruent items was to dress in outdoors gear.  i decided to go full out with flannel shirt, boots, backpack, wooly hat, and axe.  my own perceptions of gender and this costume led me to commit to the idea that i was a 'mountain man' (apologies to my sister bmw's out there - i know better now) and went full out by tucking up my hair and painting on a beard.  no one at the party initially recognized me, and i think because of that i won the costume contest.  that said, people spent the whole time asking me why i chose my costume with a tone in their voices that indicated that there was something wrong with it.  i remember returning home afterward having decided my costume next year would be more girly.

so i put 'girl's halloween costumes' into a google images search.  go ahead, try it.  i'll wait.

yeah so here we go.  this page of images just backs any and all thoughts about gender and costumes i could come up with.  first off, what i see is not just girl's costumes - some of these are women.  my continual pet peeve around women being belittled by categorizing them as 'girls' comes into play right away.  the other thing i can't help but notice as that unless i am pulling up the full photos, i am seeing that i can't always tell if the pics are of women or of girls. just now i pulled up what i thought was a woman, but instead looks to be an 11 year old in a sexy mermaid costume.  i shudder at the extreme sexualiztaion of women and girls that runs rampant across the page.  tina fey and rosalind wiseman come to mind with their 'queen bees and wanna be's'/'mean girls' analysis that says, tongue in cheek, that halloween is the time that women and girls can dress like sluts and no one can say anything about it.  sexy nurse, sexy pirate, sexy doctor - the ridiculousness is rampant.  the creators of 'how i met your mother' hit it on the nose when they introduced the 'slutty pumpkin' costume into dialogue.  what shall we see this year - 'sexy wall st. occupier.' 'sexy terrorist,'?

of course, i too have worn some version of the 'sexy whatever' costume.  i can understand wanting to deck out and feel hot and wanted.  i like the joss whedon 'come as your aren't' conceptualization of halloween.  the year the gay man told me he liked my breasts it was because i had strapped them into a corset - a corset that has come out many many halloweens since.  i wonder sometimes whether consciousness is enough, and there are times when i say no, times i say yes, and times i say 'screw it' and do whatever the hell i feel like doing.  as i look at my calendar and see functions to attend in two weekends i am starting to think about my costume for this year.

slutty blogger perhaps?

make new friends

when i moved to corvallis i already knew people.  of course, three weeks after i got here my best friend left for seattle (damn you gana!!!), but i was able to get here and have some wonderful folks with whom i can hang out, get a beer, and invite to a party.  i've always moved to places where i had insta-friends (just add water...or booze), residence life jobs - wilderness, so when i came here i was grateful to at least have a jump start to living in a new place where one might expect me to put on my big girl pants and actually meet people. 

i don't think of myself as the person who has put painstaking hours into learning how to be social.  in my mind i am still the nervous girl who does not make eye contact and has completely no idea how to strike up a conversation.  in some ways i still am that girl.  i try to rely on others to drive the conversation, grasping at ideas for questions to keep things going.  i live in awe of my roommate emily who can literally keep anyone talking.  her innate curiosity and complete interest in what people have to say is remarkable to say the least.  i want to be that person.  right now i am just not. 

now i am not saying that i can't hang in there and be social.  i can.  i absolutely love hearing what people are passionate about, especially when it is something about which i know nothing.  i spent over an hour the other day listening to a guy tell me all about what it takes to manage a watershed.  coming to corvallis has been very good for me in taking the communication skills i learned working at aspen into the real world where i can use them outside the therapeutic realm.  when i left college i used to joke that i needed an orientation counselor for my life - someone who would do icebreakers and ask all the questions in hopes of connection.  nine years later i think perhaps i've integrated that person into who i am. 

here's the thing about making friends.  it is not just about being social.  as i was talking about in my last post, there are so many different levels of what we call 'friendship' that i am thinking about starting up my own language around the matter.  we call someone a 'friend' just because they clicked a button and started 'liking' our status updates.  we have no language that delineates the difference between my relationship with my friend amanda whom i have known for thirteen years and share everything, and the person i met down at block 15 over a beer and would say hi to if i saw them again on the street.  being social gets me the latter kind of friends - i have to do much much more in order to get the former.

now friends like amanda don't come along that often.  i'd say i only get one per place i've lived, with the exception of noho where i got none because spent most of my time in the bottle and on the dance floor at the club.  in this sense i am talking the say anything, complete trust, stand up at my wedding (were i to be lucky enough to have one), kind of friend.  perhaps one might call this a soul mate - but even that does not really explain what these people mean to me.  i count myself very fortunate to even have these people in my life - especially knowing how poor my friend-making skills have been in times when i met some of them. 

living in a new place makes me miss these connections.  i crave the space in which i can sit with a person, express myself the way i need, and feel totally safe and comfortable doing it.  this is not to say i am not willing to share personal things with others, but that when i do so i have a worry inside that what i am saying is making me vulnerable.  the hurt, bullied, teenage girl that generally sleeps quietly inside of me starts to panic when i go there with people who are new to me.  incidentally she also starts to freak out when i am about to publish serious personal thoughts on my blog - go figure.  i am not saying that i don't share personal things with people i don't know, just that it feels to me like taking a risk when i do so.  when i do share personal things with people where i feel uncomfortable it is because i feel the person will be kind to me and is trustworthy. 

that said, i have realized that going really deeply with someone really quickly does not lead to the automatic creation of the kind of safe relationship i am looking for.  it may be a step in that direction though.  if i take the risk and move beyond surface conversations, and the person i converse with takes care with the things i say, i will feel more comfortable with them in the future.  of course, i still think it best when i am getting to know someone to hold back some.  otherwise i get the mental/emotional friend equivalent of having sex on the first date.  needs might get met in the moment, but i've moved way too far out beyond the safety net.  in the end i will regret it.  there needs to be a balance - a place in between full exposure and total closure that allows one to connect and to grow something without doing harm.  balance...something i have never been good at!

so that leaves me here in corvallis still, learning how to be a person who connects in healthy ways that will fulfill myself and the person with whom i connect.  in the past weeks i have been having more and more experiences where i feel i am striking that balance.  for me that is heartening.  who knows if my time here will lead to an amanda or josh or jen, but i hope it does.  oh, and of course this inevitably leads me to think about dating - but that should probably be another post should it not?

if you are reading this, and you have gotten all the way to the end of my lengthy ramble, i say thank you for taking the time, and for taking care of my words and thoughts. 

on being a friend...

cue randy newman, pictures of cute puppy dogs snuggling, maybe a montage of people laughing and hugging and holding hands.

oh wait - that's not what i meant at all.

been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be a friend.  i realized i'd never really done any thinking about it for myself, and by that i mean that i've never decided what being a friend means to me in thought but also in action.  i spent years telling my kids in the backcountry what makes a good friend, but, per usual, i did not take the time to apply my spoken wisdom to my lived experience.

one of my students at aspen requested to me that he lead a group on friendship.  i was impressed that the kid had thought up a group idea and cared enough about it to lead it, and of course i found a good chunk of time to make it happen.  this young man had gone through incredible changes while in the program - he'd arrived an angry kid from a rural area whose drinking and challenging behaviors had led his mother to send him away.  i remember the first week i spent with him he only spoke when we asked him to.  weeks later i found myself sitting in a circle with him while he led the group in a moment of silence.  when we all opened the circle he pulled a letter out of his pocket and stared at it for a while.  he looked like he might cry.  we were all silent and rapt in our attention, our eyes on the top of his head as he bent low into his lap and started to tell us his story.

this kid had a friend - the kind of buddy you do everything with.  they were essentially brothers.  some years before our circle in the utah mountains my student and his friend went out with some others to drink and ride snowmobiles.  they were drunk and the night was amazing.  just before they had to be home for curfew his friend decided one more run across the field they were in was in order.  he zipped off and never returned.  when they found him he had crashed, his neck broken.

in the months that followed my student was by his friend's bedside as he struggled for his life, and later dealt with the intense reality of being paralyzed.  my student told me that in their conversations in the hospital that his friend had decided he would never drink again.  my student agreed that was a good idea, and entered into an agreement with his friend.  however, he found himself going out and getting wasted with other kids regularly, and began to feel guilty that he was lying to his pal.  his friend knew something was up and confronted him.  my student got angry, lied, and left.  he did not return after that.  he rationalized the situation by telling himself that his friend was a fool who deserved what happened to him.  he clearly could not handle things like drinking, and it was better that he did not.  my student told us that he blamed his friend rather than alcohol, and chose drinking over brotherhood.  the guilt became so intense that he could not think about his pal let alone see him.  the two had not spoken since that day.

then my student opened the letter in his lap and started to read.  the letter was from his friend.

when my student left for aspen his mother was alone and struggling with her own issues as well as the pain of what her son had become.  this was a last chance for my student - he'd been sent to aspen rather than juvenile detention, and if he did not do well there he would be sent to jail.  my student's friend, when he heard what had happened, called my student's mother on the phone and offered support.  she had spoken with my student's therapist and gotten permission to send my student a letter from his friend.

my student's friend shared that he still loved his friend, and that he wanted to help him because he knew that what had happened was about addiction.  my student's friend, wheelchair-bound, had moved into my student's house and was living with his mother so that she did not have to be alone.  my student's friend told my student that he was going to be there when my student got home, would support him in staying sober, and had forgiven him for choosing alcohol over friendship.  that said, he shared his hurt and disappointment in the situation, and told his friend that what he did was not OK.  the words in the letter were plain and direct - there was no romance in it.  this was the simplest declaration of brotherly love one could hear.  my student read us this letter with his head up, tears streaming down his face.  he did not care if this group of teenage boys saw him cry.

but then again - we were all crying too.

when the letter was over my student folded it back up and placed it in his pocket.  he looked at his peers and said 'that is a true friend.'  the silent nods of the group were more powerful than any words.

i share this story because it serves to me as a wonderful jumping off point for thoughts about friendship.  i have more friends than i do any other kind of relationship - more people than are in my family, more people than i've had lovers.  friendship is also cross-cutting.  i am friends with my family and my lovers.  i see it as such an important role - friend.  it means so many things.

it can get diluted.  we 'friend' people on facebook, and use the word as a placeholder to describe the person we are talking about or to ('let me tell you, friend!').  it is used to describe acquaintances as well as soul mates.  we tack on words or prefixes to modify it - boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend.  i see it in greeting cards, on picture frames, and in cut out block letters hanging in people's offices.  you know how if you say a word over and over again it loses its meaning?  sometimes i think that happens to 'friend.'

it's totally happening now.

what's hard about being a friend is that it is not all just happy songs and butterflies, laughter and chocolate cake.  being a friend means being a part of it all - the pain, the happiness, the love, and the harsh.  it means letting the relationship change as it needs to.  it means being willing to say the hard things rather than just what the other person wants you to say.  it means forgiving.  it means having boundaries.  it can be jealously or joy - hope or hurt.  one of the most profound people i worked with at aspen told me that sometimes the most compassionate thing a person can do is to tell you that you are full of shit.  the best friends i've ever had are willing to do that for me.

i think about this now as i live in a new town and am 'making friends' regularly.  i've met so many people in my life, and in the past 8 months there are so many new 'friends' that i am not sure i even can remember all of their names.  this is what i mean - what do i call someone i just met?  are they my friend?  am i theirs?  i wonder if it would not be a good idea for us to start creating new words to describe the relationships we have - kind of like how some native peoples have hundreds of words to describe different kinds of snow.  when you meet someone and like them you become 'friends,' but that is intensely different than the relationship i have with my friend whom i've known for 12 years and who is willing to tell me when i suck.  you don't tell new people you meet when they suck - that's not friendly then.

when do we cross the line into another level of friendship, and how can we create a language to describe it?

should we even do that, or is it better just to leave words out of it and let the feelings and actions dictate?

i want to be a good friend to those i've just met, and to those i have known forever.  whether or not i can describe it, i think friendship is immensely important.

what do you think my friends?

all hail the yoga all-stars

have been doing bikram yoga for the past 8 months.  i really enjoy it.  i like the heat and how it helped me to finally enjoy stretching.  i like the fact that my lungs feel stronger and i can hold a note longer when i sing.  i like that i can now feel into my body and have a greater understanding of what is happening inside of me.  i like that i am stronger and have better balance.  all in all my yoga experience has been pretty awesome.

i've done a number of other kinds of yoga.  i've done sun salutations, enjoyed deep long meditative poses, stood on my head, and done the low slow flow.  bikram has been a very different experience for me.  first, it is the only yoga i've done where i have felt i've advanced.  i think that the very athletic nature of the yoga appeals to me - that and the fact that we do the same poses every time.  i get to work hard and see my progress.  it's heartening.  second, the yoga crowd is different.  bikram is a very very american version of yoga.  the poses and postures are not, but it is inherently capitalist in nature.  it is franchised, automated, and monetized.  it is completely macdonaldized.  sometimes when i think about this it makes me want to walk out - to say to heck with it and find something more traditional.  other times i take a lot of comfort in the fact that when I go to another bikram studio elsewhere, the experience will be the same.  as a result of this balanced dichotomy, all kinds come to bikram.  college students, hippies, housewives, hipsters, body builders, runners, rich, poor, old, kids, people of all races - it is a cornucopia of people who all come for different reasons to get the same thing.  the other day i got to class to see a coach bag hanging right next to a homemade crocheted one.  some women in the locker room talk about how they love their bmw's - others talk about how they will only eat eggs from 'happy chickens' - priceless.

the one thing that i find the same across all yoga classes is one demographic - the yoga all stars.  if you have ever taken a yoga class you already know about whom i refer.  they are the perfect, the amazing, the strong, the beautiful.  they walk into class, tall and thin, washboard abs already tensed and toned.  they wear perfect yoga costumes that always match.  they walk in with perfect posture.  these are the people whose bodies seem to be made for yoga.  no matter what, they are flawless in their postures, amazingly strong, and ridiculously flexible - gods and goddesses, superheroes really. 

i try so hard not to hate them.

yeah, i know, i am in class for me.  i am not supposed to compare myself to others.  this is about my health and confidence and well-being.  however i grew up in a world where body image is distorted as a female and an athlete.  once when I was doing situps at the gym at clark another student called out to me, 'keep going, you need it.'  i'm self-conscious no matter how hard i try not to be.  i do my best to concentrate on my own figure in the mirror and remind myself that i am beautiful and strong and amazing too.

other times, i try so hard not to stare at them.

these are amazing people!  when i am able to manage my own self-consciousness i just think they are so incredible and beautiful that i catch myself starting.  they can bend lower, stretch higher, and do more than i can and i am in awe.  i am sure that this could be uncomfortable for these people.  who really wants to go to their class to better themselves and find someone staring up the back of their ass all night?  i could make the argument that hey, the way they look the should just expect it, but that would align me with people who say that a woman who dresses sexily deserves to be raped.  clearly not excusable behavior.

but then again, we are all yoga all stars in the end.  in a bikram class you go through 26 postures.  the odds are low that there is not at least one pose that you could do exceptionally well.  most of my teachers don't point out individuals for praise, but those who do often end up saying something kind to every person in the room over a class.  i myself am very proud of my standing bow pose and by half locust.  tonight one of the women in my class, who you would never pick out as an all-star, was asked to demonstrate her standing head to knee.  i marveled at her strength and balance as she stood up in front of class and showed us her perfect posture.  she beamed at the chance.

i can't say that i won't have that continual internal yoyo of emotion about the pretty pretty people who come into my class in cute clothes and make us all look like yutzes rather than yogis, but i do like that i can keep some perspective on it.

all hail the yoga all-stars!

there's rules in wilderness?!?!?!?!

went hiking today in the hills outside corvallis, or - where i now live.  green, lush, beautiful - even though we have not had rain in a very loooong time (thank god because it did nothing but rain for weeks when i got here).  

as i drove to the trailhead i saw the requisite fire warning signs.  we are at a yellow now.  do you ever wonder if we were to be at the same homeland security warning level as fire level would the terrorists spontaneously combust?  no? ok...fire warnings yes...so i passed those and on to the parking lot where i learned that to climb mary's peak from that angle requires a $5 day fee.  now, i have climbed mary's peak a great number of times from a couple of different directions, but this is the first i've seen the fee.  and $5 without even being able to have a fire?  as they say at the end of the world - wtf mate?

first, i did not have a $5 bill - just a $10 and a $20.  i'll be damned if i am going to pay $10 to walk 6 miles up a 4000' hill - you know i never really GOT the mountain snobbery until i moved away from the rockies.  mary's peak is beautiful, and i really really enjoy it - maybe a mountain - definitely not a peak. i decided to be a bit on the shady side.  put a $10 into the envelope and filled it out, stuck it on my windshield.  if i came back and it was still there i'd take it home with me and get them back later when i had the proper change (of course those of you who know me know that i will never go back to the lot where i have to pay $5 to hike rather than go to the free ones).  i suppose that makes me a bad person.  

i headed out on my way to the actual trail.  wanted to leave the newly paved lot, the construction site below it, and the rather large toilet house behind.  when i got to the trail there was yet another sign.  this one said i had to have my dog on a leash no longer than 6' at all times. i turned to ask summit if she knew where we'd put her leash to find her taking a shit just off the side of the trail.

yeah summit, i feel that way too.

rules in the wilderness...now i know, i know, hiking up mary's peak is MOST DEFINITELY not wilderness.  people can drive to within 10 minutes of the summit for pete's sake (also, who is this pete we refer to all the time?).  but really - rules.  have you seen the honey badger on youtube?  i think you should because i am telling you honey badger don't care about rules and little bear don't care either.

check out this badass salamander i found on the trail recently.  do you think salamander cares about rules?  salamander don't care!  yeah yeah, fire rules are there for safety.  i don't want to burn down mary's peak.  i don't even actually want to go up there and have a fire, but le sigh to the max - i know how to not burn it down.  i also hiked through the ghost fields in and around yellowstone - no trees yet after 23 years. i know what fire can do AND i know that the fire there burned so badly because fire had been removed from the ecosystem for way too long.  when you remove something from an ecosystem it throws off the balance.  fire is a predator just like hawks and wolves and honey badgers.  you take it out and you can get trouble.  

i am not proposing we remove the fire rule.  it just makes me sad that we need to have it.  i know not everyone is skilled or aware or remotely uncareless (hehe made up a word).  i suppose little bear do care, but little bear don't like it.

and the $5 fee?  see this tree?  what this tree gonna do with $5?  tree don't care.  yeah i get that there is maintenance and work and all kinds of things that are done that these dollars cover.  in this bent though i have to say that i side with good ol' uncle ed in his desert solitaire diatribe about national parks.  let's get the roads out of it!  let's save the roads for people who can't walk to the top (sorry ed - i differ from you on that point)!  let the people who can, do so - if they do DON'T CHARGE THEM FOR IT.  i appreciate that people want to enjoy the outdoors, but this has led to the creation of all this infrastructure, and then infrastructure to maintain the infrastructure.  that leads to having to pay to walk 6 miles up a big hill.  little bear don't care.

see this puppy dog? ok, i suppose this is the shadow of the puppy dog.  puppy dog don't care for leashes, muzzles, harnesses or any other kinds of doggy s&m accoutrement.  puppy dog would not even wear a collar except mommy wants her phone number on puppy in the event of separation.  i get that some people don't train their dogs.  put those dogs on leashes!  i went to the rogue brewer's memorial beer festival - dogs and beer, beer and dogs.  it was fun but there were a lot of misbehaving puppies not being restrained by their drunk owners.  this one should have a leash rule, but outdoors?  my dog likes to run and play and enjoy the space.  i trained her well.  she does not bite, jump, nip or bark.  i dislike heartily the idea that because some people can't take care of their pets that mine needs to be tied up.  little bear don't care.

i think what i am really saying is a) if you don't want rules avoid hiking up the east ridge of mary's peak, and b) i miss my wide open, wild and wooly, camp where you want, have a nice fire, and don't gotta pay shit honest to goodness wilderness.  gots to get me outta dodge for some of that soon!

gifted

went out last night to the depot to see a couple of guys from austin texas perform electronic rock to the most amazing laser lights show i've seen. i stood on the dance floor dodging elbows to the nose (i always end up behind a really tall, dancing, man) allowing my heart to tremble with the bass. it was a lot of fun - well done ghostland observatory.

then i headed out to fat's grill to see my friend jesse playing blues music. we got there late in the third set. it was rowdy and loud and we continued our evening of dancing. not too bad for a night out in salt lake city.

my fiend jesse is a really incredible pianist. i watched him playing and i felt awed and amazed. i also found myself being a bit jealous. i've always thought it would be cool to learn to play the piano. my mom offered to get one when i was a kid so that i could take lessons. we had a family friend who was a concert pianist. he too was amazing to listen to. in the end we realized that we did not have space in the house for a piano. after a few years i ended up taking on the clarinet, and two years ago i started in with the guitar. certainly i got my instrumental kicks elsewhere.

i almost feel guilty when i am jealous of the musical abilities of others. i have many incredibly musically inclined people in my life - garret and the guitar, jesse and the piano, lynsey and the violin. i feel guilty because i think that perhaps i should not be jealous - i understand that i have something as well...my voice.

when i think about this i start to wonder about the difference between talent and a gift. see, i know that i have been given a gift. i never learned how to sing - i just knew. i was able to mimic the sounds i heard on the radio, from others, in the world around me. i have not cultivated it, studied it, worked it like the people around me who may also have gifts, but also have talent. i think of talent as something one creates...they harness the innate ability they have within themselves and turn it into something extraordinary. when i think about what it took my friends to get where they are i find it so humbling.

and i feel grateful for my gift. i feel grateful that people appreciate it and that i can share it with others. i feel humbled because i did nothing to earn it and nothing to create it. regardless i get to benefit from it. i guess that means that my friends who worked to cultivate their talents should be jealous of me, but i think it must be great to be able to look at their accomplishments and feel that they earned it. their hard work and care and time has led them to do amazing things.

i suppose we can all be grateful - and make amazing music together.

the bunny suicides

drove from moab to loa last night via 24. not my preferred way to go, but with the cold, ice, snow, and wayward deer in the road i decided to take the longer route. it was a gorgeous night. as i rolled up 191 to 70 i could see the cheshire-cat smile of the moon huge and orange as it dipped toward the clifftops. i plugged in my ipod and sang my heart out as i cruised along into the desert night.

however there was danger lurking around every corner.

not danger for me. no, i was safely belted into my tank-like german sedan with anti-lock brakes and dual side airbags. the danger lay outside the car in the road dodging in and out of the sagebrush.

bunnies.

at first i was not bothered by them...

then there were a LOT. when i mean a LOT i will say that by the time i got around to counting the little fluffers running around the road under the wheels of my car (about halfway through a 2.5 hour drive) i got to two casualties and twenty near misses.

if you don't already know, when bunnies feel threatened they run away and weave back and forth at the same time. effective if you are trying to get away from a fox or coyote, but for a car...yeah...not so much.

it was like playing frogger in reverse...with bunnies

in the end i managed only to kill 2 of them, but that took some very calculated swerving and slowing. i will say for all of the ridiculousness it did pass the drive time AND summit was totally engaged.

kamikaze bunnies...go figure.

ps - the comics i put into this blog are by an artist named andy riley who totally shares my sense of humor.