so there it is. I sat in the courtroom in Butte, MT with 19 other contestants. I stood up in the jury bx when my name was called and I held my hand up and swore to defend the constitution of the united states. I said a lot of other things during the oath that I would be horrified to fill.

thought I felt things would go on unchanged and I would not geek out about how grand it was to finally become a citizen, I still got to thinking during the ceremony of speeches and song. I realize how much I love about this country, how many things that are uniquely American and cannot be found, repeated or mimicked any where else in this world. I feel just as american as everyone else and have for years, it’s somehow unbelievable to exhale in relief and understand that they cannot get rid of me now. I have every right to be in this country and to be treated the same as any other citizen and celebrate this heritage as it was my own.

so when I gave my oath, I declared my own:

I love this country. I love it’s collection of people and I love it’s tossed salad of a culture. I love it for it’s insanity and madness. I love it’s zest for life. I love white picket fences. I love mining history and it’s aftermath. I love the hillbillies with their big trucks, four wheelers and hunting dogs. I love the Victorian houses. I love the portland hipsters. I love the oregon coast. I love the volcanoes. I love the national parks. I love the hot springs. I love the wide open land. I love the all-american ball game. I love the prom and high school. I love bumper stickers. I love virginia city and butte. I love the college experience in this country. I love the popular culture. I love the movies and the celebrities. I love the colonial architecture in the south. and the way they talk. I love the Nez Perze and Chief Joseph. I love the madness of NYC. I love the great depression. I love the frontiers of montana. I love the national parks. I love the civil war. I love the 50’s house wife. I love the filthy rich. I love coffee culture. I love the beer culture. I love skiing culture. I love transient culture. I love roadside attractions. I love hunter S thompson. not so much for his writings, but what he stood for. I love a 4th of July parade. I love people from Michigan. I love the salt of the earth. I love thanksgiving. I love the columbia gorge. I love Halloween and the national 3-day weekends. ooh, I love pumpkins. I love the highway and an american road trip. I love the rainforests in the PNW. I love the biking culture in portland. I love going out for breakfast. I love christmas lights. I love ribs.

I love the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. none of these things exist anywhere else the way they do here. any of these things would not exist if it wasn’t for this insane nation. it’s hard to explain that to someone in finland, it’s almost equally as hard to explain it to someone in the united states. no, it’s harder. I know the things I choose to love.

this is my land.

nascar.

lift access is coming to an end. me and everyone else is scrounging for the last lift accessed turns like crazy. last weekend to ski north summit snowfield. I’m trying to get on with that frenzy. keeping my fingers crossed, …but I think everyone else has the same idea.

I’ve had better seasons. but I can’t complain, I have over fifty days in already, that’s with taking about two months off from skiing. not to mention, my life was not like this even three years ago. it’s not that long that I was desperately even trying to get up to the mountain, twice a week if I was lucky. hard to be a skier living in pdx… so I am really just thankful that I live here and I get to ski amazing shit very often.

I have progressed quite a bit on teles too. I am pretty excited about that. I look forward to getting better skis perhaps next season. perhaps some rossignol S7’s. mm. I borrowed Jurate’s rental pair yesterday to try them out and I am amazed. when I skied those skis I felt like whom ever built them, meant it. like those skis have attitude, a mustache maybe. they ruffled their chest at me and said “I’ve got this”.

this saturday Jurate, Bradley and I met at swifty to catch early chair. I’d left bozeman around six am to make it in time, to buy my passes and be strapped in with coffee in hand, ready to wait. we stayed true to our mission and stood in line about a total of two hours (swifty, triple, tram and then the platform), finally dropping in at 11 am. we skied the north summit snowfield in all it’s glory and got the best skiing I’ve gotten all season, or possibly in years. waist deep powder. no joke. skiing of that summit opened my eyes to a different way of skiing big sky, and really, a different way to ski moonlight. the best way.

ahhh, what an amazing life.

accessories. I am known for them. I like to accessorize. due to the fact that I always do, I am also always at a risk of losing and earring, a hat, a scarf, some gloves I knitted perhaps. most often, what remains are single earrings, missing their counter part. I hold on to those earrings for some reason, I put them back in my jewelry box and they resurface occasionally while I search for a set to wear. when they do, I remember when I wore them, and most importantly I remember when and where I lost them.

one purple earring was lost on the descent from Middle Sister when skiing from it’s summit with Dan. one of my favorites; a silver dangler was lost in a cliffed-out scare in whitefish, my first week back in Montana in years. another, an orange enameled piece was lost twice, the last time in Stanley, Idaho along a path to a hot springs when I was getting ready to raft the middle fork of the salmon river. there’s a silver hoop in my jewelry box, a set I purchased from pdx airport on my way to LA for a conference with my graduating class. khakis, button up white shirt, high heels and an expensive purse with a few freshly printed business cards in it, ready to sell myself. then there’s the hat that Kenny replaced, I lost the original on Howard’s plunge on the Payette river while spending 4th of July with Brittnea and James.

memories tied to them all. I feel the same way about scarves, skirts, shoes and other things, but the jewelry for some reason has stronger ties to them. I remember the times when I wore them and often the times when I lost them. much like the ring my mom got me when I graduated. I still remember us sitting in our favorite restaurant in Mona, Italy when my little sister gave me the little package. I lost this ring in the boiling river with Andrea when she came down or opening weekend at Big Sky.

as many fond memories that I have with all my accessories, I also have long ago accepted the fact that each of these items simply travel through my life and move on. when this happens, I take it in stride. because having the memory of once possessing this item and remembering my life when I wore them, is delightful in itself, almost like actually having the item still.

the loss of the ring was sad, yes, but I am delighted to think that I am leaving little gifts and trinkets in my wake. in far away places. an offering in a sense. or you could just call it littering, but I doubt my wooden purple earring will ever emerge from the summit glaciers of the middle sister.