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Ya-hey.

Well, I’m not actually counting the days. Well, maybe I am. Regardless, the post title comes from the Collective Soul song, not from my state of mind. Even if I am counting the days. Right-o.

As it happens, I’m listening to Collective Soul very quietly, mostly because I can’t get my door closed because there’s too much stuff in the way. My room is really a most amazing mess right now. I can’t hardly see the floor. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight, because my bed is covered in all sorts of stuff, and there isn’t space on the floor for the stuff on my bed. Maybe I can sleep on top of it.

Of course, however I sleep, I’ll probably sleep better than I did last night. For some reason, I decided (while camping out w/ Sagar in Veadeawoo) that I would sleep under the stars, with an old army blanket as my only protection against the elements. Fortunately, it didn’t rain, but it was a long and cold night just the same. For the record, sleeping out under the stars is overrated. There is, in fact, a reason they sell tents.

But yeah. So Sagar, his little brother and I got up at like 6:00AM and climbed for a few hours out in Veadeawoo. Being on real rocks is both surprisingly similar and surprisingly different from the sport-gym experience that I’ve been accustomed to. It’s a good time, regardless.

I’ve been considering becoming Buddhist.

Not really. Well, the thought did cross my mind, but only for a brief moment. Go figure.

Montana was wonderful, albeit entirely too short. I love the country, and I love the people. I find myself a little disconcerted about the lack of sales tax, but somehow the mountains and sky make up for it…

It was good to see my brother, his wife, and my sister for a few days. Lord knows it’s going to be long enough until the next opportunity to see both of my siblings at the same time.

On Tuesday we hiked up to Inspiration Point at Jenny Lake. At the point, there was a multitude of friendly and hungry chipmunks. Fortunately for them, we happened to have a few extra Cheese-Its to share. I managed to sneak a video clip, which you can see here: eateggs.com/upload/chipmunk.avi (12mb avi– 56k== your life sucks as much as mine).

After Inspiration Point, my brother and I continued up the trail to Solitude Lake (9000 ft), which was just high enough for there to still be plenty of snow around.

Don’t be deceived by Brian’s bare-chestedness. Instead, realize that he’s standing in snow, and the snow submerged in the water isn’t melting.

Not to be outdone by Brian, I found myself wading out to the to this island in the middle:

For those of you who have never been in sub-40 degree mountain water, the most noticeable effect of the cold is that it becomes difficult to breathe because your chest is contracting.

Anyhow. We made it to the island, and jumped off the other side where it was a little more deep. And good god– talk about COLD!

All in all, though, I think the Solitude Lake trip was prolly the highlight of the trip (well, Montana adventures being in a league of their own…). It was a 18.5mi hike, round-trip.

There was also an enjoyable white-water raft trip, the obligatory trip through Yellowstone to see Old Faithful, Mammoth Springs, etc.

And then it was over. And now I’m back at home, and not looking forward to waking up at 6:00AM tomorrow morning to go move dirt. But such is life.

Well… my apologies that this post has been entirely devoid of humor (chipmunk aside, I suppose), humanity or wit. I’ll do better next time.

In the mean time, I’m going to try to find a place to sleep. Whoo!

Six? Hmm. Just a guess.

So. Officially, I’m doing “landscaping” for Heartland Homes. What I’m quicking learning, however, is that landscaping is nothing but a fancy term for moving dirt. Lots of dirt. And you just keep moving it until things look good. Sometimes you add some rocks on top, or put some grass on top of your dirt, but in general it’s just a lot of moving dirt.

I don’t mind, of course– I must admit that I have quite the tan going on– moving dirt leaves me with plenty of time to think. Think about what, you might ask?

Well, about things like this: moving dirt allows me to get closer to the “natural world.” For example: animals have been moving dirt for thousands and thousands of years. Take the prairie dog, for example: the prairie dog moves lots and lots of dirt. And I move lots and lots of dirt. Ergo, the prairie dog and I have something in common, do we not?

Of course, a prairie dog also has a brain the size of a raisen, but that’s beside the point. No, rather, that is the point. But I digress.

War of the Worlds, for a disaster movie, was quite spectacular. The characters were generally clichéd and poorly developed, the script was riddled with unexplained plot holes, and the acting certainly won’t bring the film any Oscar nominations. That being said, Spielberg delivers another film that merits placement alongside his other summer blockbusters. Typical of Spielberg, the film is absolutely immense, with (literally) thousands of extras (real people, not CG characters) on screen at times. The special effects are nearly seemless, and John William’s score is… composed and conducted by John Williams. Need I say more?

Although Spielberg’s tallent for placing thousands of characters on the screen at the same time shown more than his tallent for creating engaging or provocative films, there still were, none the less, several scenes that me pulled out on the edge of my seat, and breathing a sigh of relief with Cruise at their conclusion.

Although certainly not the best film of the summer, it was well worth my $7 and two hours. My advice? Go. Bring some friends. Have fun. And remember to sneak your food into the theatre so as not to support your local Caramike theatre. =)

In the mean time, I’m headed outside to go enjoy the last of the sunshower that has graced my house and the surrounding land. I love the sound of the rain as it hits the landscaping fabric that lines our rows of trees…

Chester and I danced tonight. And as we did, the world was beautiful and loved.

I loved Chester, if only for his grace and poise– the flowing gait of a well-bred English Setter. We danced through the valley, and I loved its air, if only for being cool and full of the smell of summer. We danced on a hill, and I loved the its air, if only for being warm again and full of Wyoming’s summer sunset. I loved the wind at my back, pushing me on. Encouraging me. I loved the wind in my face, filling my hair, if only for making me fight for that last half mile. Challenging me. Hearing the quiet dirt roads, the waving neighbors, the laughing children, the barking dogs, the silently decaying cars, parked on front lawns. The llamas and the rolling, cow-spotted prairie, stretching greenly to infinity and the Rocky Mountains beyond…

I saw the last colors of the running sun, handing off the baton of yet another summer day to the chasing moon. Chester saw a rabbit. He chased the rabbit while I chased the sun, until the leash pulled us stumbling together. And we danced. Chester changed his mind and ran toward home, as hard as I ran away. I braced my arm, and we collided apart. We danced. Sometimes in step, sometimes stepping on each other. Each step without direction, but each step with the assurance that we were meant to dance. And that was enough.

And back home. Chester is locked up for the night. My guitar is strung and tuned and there’s a song welling up inside me. It beckons to me, to us… shall we?

Two things:

1) Get Shorty is a highly entertaining movie. Easily one of my favorites within the “ganster” genre.

2) I had a blood test on Friday that returned 112,000. Although this is just a little shy of a normal count (150,000-400,000), it’s the highest count I’ve had, without drugs, since my Junior year. In essence, this means that the chapter in my life on Medical Enigma #2 has been drawn to a close. And that’s a wonderful, comforting feeling.

“Lying on my back facing the cloud cluttered sky, I noticed the

sky. Sleep, a lethal trap for someone so short on time.“

-Sean Gonsior

I found it appropriate that “WC3” is not containted within the default Microsoft spell-check dictionary for Outlook Express 6. “What? WC3? Standards? No, thank you very much, WE set the standards!!”

Last night’s electrical storm was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. And that’s not an exageration.

The game of Ultimate last night was pretty sweet. We had four cars and a soccer field, so at just past dusk we all pulled up, turned our bright beams on to the field, and then proceeded to play for an hour. Sadly, Sagar’s team won out, but Sean, Josh, Alan and I did manage to put up quite a valient effort. =)

Starting at about 5:30PM tomorrow (Friday) there will be people hanging out in Lions park. There will be a couple slack lines, a frisbee or two, barbeque, and plenty of good tunes. It should be a good time.

Feel free to show up. If you want to bring something, just give me a call at 630-5958 to give me a heads up.

“They were savage and bitter, especially the middle-aged and

and betrayed. They have slaved and saved for nothing.”

-Nathanael West, The Day of the Locust

Good heavens. It’s Wednesday already.

Good heavens. How is it only Wednesday?

Heh. I’m sure you can relate. Things have been going at about 1,000 miles an hour (well, my car tops out around 100, but even that seems like it’s been going way faster than it should as of late (ooh– double parenthesis. I should be shot. But it’s for a worthy side-note: it’s been almost a year since my last ticket. Personally, I think I’m long overdue. (ooh!! bonus #2: when I come back from Thailand, assuming I don’t manage to get myself a ticket in the next month and a half, my record will be CLEAN! That’s AMAZING!))).

Wow. That thought was totally hi-jacked.

Anyhow. The whole point of this post is state that I went climbing with Sagar and some of his work buddies last night. Not that anyone cares, but I feel like my climb has really improved in the last month– I took a couple 5.9s and one 5.10, and although I was sore this morning, I didn’t have much trouble with any of my climbs last night.

Speaking of which, I’m hoping to get out and climb some real rocks in Veadeawoo next Saturday night. Whoo!

I spent some quality time with the trimmer today– so much so that, after fighting weeds nearly as tall as I am for an hour, I had the equivalent of SPF-1000 sunblock on my legs. Yeah. My bare legs. Or at least they were bare until they were covered with a 1/4″ layer of weed flesh. One of these days I’ll wise up and invest in some of those … pants … that everyone seems to be wearing, but in the mean time, after turning my shower green, my legs look like I have chicken-pox. Heh. It’s my own stupid fault, of course, and it’s not like this is the first time (or the second… or the one-hundred and fifty-third, for that matter– two years on a lawn crew, and I still didn’t get the hang of wearing pants).

Right-oh. (just say it out loud.)

Tonight? Well, I think I’m probably going to kick back, take care of a couple things (like applying for a Visa…. details, details), and kill off a book.

Or so I say now. Lord knows that Sean’s going to call me in 10 minutes and we’re going to go out again tonight and I won’t get home again till the wee hours of the morning…

But in the mean-time. Ta ta.

And so, here we are, another week of summer come and gone. Another good week of summer, at that!

Monday I was brutally reminded of why I want to leave Wyoming. Not to complain– most days I love working outside– but the prevailing 40-50mph windspeeds on Monday just made things pretty miserable. And then there were the 70mph gusts. I swear I’ve had less trouble standing while drunk…

I still haven’t found my wallet, yet. Which is to say that I still haven’t accepted the reality that my wallet got ripped off and it’s gone forever. C’mon. I hosted the party for crying out loud. Who steals the host’s wallet? Honestly. I suppose I’ll buy a new one, one of these days. In the mean time, my only form of identification is a poorly crafted fake id (my good fakes were in my wallet). Good lord.

I got a haircut Wednesday night. Accordingly, my ears and the now-exposed skin around my ears were cooked to a tender red over the last few days. At least my hair is short again!

Speaking of which, it’s a sure sign that I’m getting older– I went, entirely of my own volition, and purchased sunscreen and put it on. That, my friends, is a sure sign of maturity!

I went to the drive-in theatre in Fort Collins with Sean and Dan Peterson to see Mr. & Mrs. Smith. The movie was thoroughly entertaining, and the drive-in experience was a lot of fun as well. God, Fort Collins is WONDERFUL.

Tonight I’m headed up to Veadeawoo for some backpacking, and just … time with myself, the trees, and the rocks– the closest thing to a “spiritual” experience that a regretful atheist can achieve, from my experience.

And that’s about it. Sean and I helped out with the neighborhood highway clean-up this morning, which was entirely too early since we didn’t get back till 1:30 or so this morning. But, well, what better thing to do with a beautiful Saturday morning?

Enjoy your respective weekends. Until next time.