there are lots of reasons for me to be proud of my mom. most of us do. setting aside all the things I love her for in raising me, just being my mom, I would like to talk about whom she is today.

my mom had a dream. like most things she has set out to do in her life, seemed to fueled by some kind of relentless perseverance. a disguised passion that transforms itself to relentless hard work. people have always wondered about my perseverance to come to this country and to get to stay here and I know it has been regarded with some admiration. some say passion. I always regarded it as some form of pigheadedness. going through that process, for me tho, never seemed like I was driven by passion. what drove me the most then, was that I saw no other option. I didn’t consider failing. I never once considered giving up. stuck it out by way of that same perseverance I recognize in my mom. she is like a rock. or tough meat.

she had a dream. maybe I fueled that dream along with my own dreams. she went full speed a head, dragged the whole family in with her and brought us closer than we have ever been. I have been there at times to help her a long, but when I see all the things she has made, built and created, I am incredibly proud of her. she built a legacy of her own. she built a romantic hotel with attractions, restaurants, boutique, day spa and all kinds of other crap to go with it. she made everyone become part of this family business.

I am reminded of times past. a situation that is of my own creation due to the fact that once again I didn’t stand up for someone and let them bully me into agreeing to things that are not fair, or just.

this stops here. I need to fight.

I just got back from a ride up brackett creek to grassy. ok, I admit it, it’s nice to be on a bike again. my shoulder worries me a little, but it seemed to hold together ok. it’s still a tad loose, so I know if I even yank on it, I’ll be right back to where I started.that slows me down on the downhill a bit.

I really love summers here in montana. I do love winters too, but I have always thought there’s something so… easy? …about montana summers. flip flops and skirts, dirt between my toes. no hurry anywhere. and most importantly: cool nights.

James has been gone like about a week now. only. and though I stop to miss him often, and think about him all the time, it gets easier. I do miss him like crazy, more than anything I miss being able to do stuff with him. but I must admit, I am really enjoying being alone and having the house all to myself for a while. I feel like I am on vacation in a way, I have always loved the times in my life when I have been single, and I have always kinda really wanted more of that. more of being free and able to do stuff with out my damn boyfriend. not that there’s anything wrong with doing a lot with James cause he’s just so awesome, but still. as much as I feel like I have always given way too much to ever relationship, I also realize that I think often it has been expected of me, like men can’t take care of themselves and they need my constant pampering. James doesn’t tho.

I love being on my own program for a while. do my own stuff, own friends, own music, own adventures and taking care of my own psyche. I have never really been good at being in relationships, I think they have always sucked me dry in some way. I used to have guys always tell me I make them better… long time ago, I learned to avoid that, because it’s not my fucking job to make anyone better. it’s ok to be with me if that makes them want to be better, but placing that kind of weight on me is utter bullshit. like they are sucking the life out of me like leeches. I don’t expect James to make me happy, or do much for me really.. other than just be there for me. be my friend and partner. I have long understood the fact that I need to look to myself for balance and happiness, and I understand if I am being a bitch, I probably need to take a step back and take some time to myself.

being with James is easy. and I think that makes me able to enjoy this as much as I do. having him there, makes this easier. but I know, on my own I am easy.

I am in love with life. a little high on summer perhaps. it’s beautiful. I love the friends I have in my life. thank you for being there.

well holy shit balls jesus fucking christ that was hard. talking about major test anxiety. I guess my score of 76/100 was up there in the highs of the class? tricky. I have been kinda having anxiety and little freak outs about failing my EMT class over the past week. it’s never really been like me to develop much anxiety over a simple test, but knowing how hard it would be and that I was going to fail the class all together if I didn’t get a high enough of a score kinda freaks me out. I mean, I have never gotten anything less than a B since I went to college, and my GPA was always high. I just always thought failure was never an option. if I am going to be tested, I need to have all the answers. ugh. really, I knew there’s no way I could, not for this one. 70 was the cut off for failing the class and in the past the class average has been 73. I think it’s just setting us up to fail. I think it’s kinda bull shit if you ask me.

especially when I sat down in front of my test and despite having read all the material twice, made like 300 flash cards (and actually knowing all of them), I still had no idea what some of the questions were even talking about. how is that even possible? one of the questions actually asked about patients short term memory by two words: a) time and place OR b) date and event. what the fuck. I know my shit. …what the fuck?

and I do retain a lot. I am kinda smart like that. even thought I thought my score was idiotically low, I was still congratulated by the teacher on my high score. I hear a few people failed the class tonight… huh.

beer me.

learned later, class average was 71 and 9 people didn’t make the cut off. out of like 25. jesus. I think I’m allowed to be proud of myself.

finally dug the mountain bike out, dusted it off, lubed the chain and swapped my pedals to flats. picked up jacque and warmed up for the season with 13 miles of forest road and 3 miles on the fabled wall of death. though it’s a pretty far reach for a couple miles of single track, from the last time I did it, I recalled really enjoying it. short, exposed and scary, but so much fun! I’m into the flats. fuck clip ins.

I was really stoked about the downhill. in a way, I am getting back on the horse that kicked my ass. when I fell last fall on my shoulder, I never really was able to get fully on back into biking before the season ended. rocks hurt. dirt doesn’t give, not like snow does. I think that’s possibly why I have always loved snow more. like this ass backwards confidence I have, that I feel safer clinging to a snowy wall with crampons and axes, over clinging to rock with my fingers and toes, even if there’s rope involved. I’ve never really been sure why I feel safer with snow and ice, than I ever have with rock. I am working on a personal theory here.