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.

I have to be honest.

so, there has been this thing that has always kinda hung over me for a long time. I always wondered about someone in my past, what went wrong and what could have been, or should have been. or not. though I have tried, truth is that he has never fully left my mind. for a few years now, every once in a while I get lost in thought and wonder about him. I don’t really know him, but I have always had this hunch that he was an amazing person. somehow for years I always saw myself as a giddy, dorky, school girl next to him, I always thought perhaps I wasn’t good enough. that he was way cooler than me. silly, but I know now, that I wasn’t good enough then because I wasn’t good enough for me and it took me a long time to fix that.

I have always had a slight concern of when I might run into him, I figure it’s only a matter of time when we might have to have something to do with each other and deal with any awkwardness that might result and actually learn to be friends. what I’ve always really wanted and have actually always regretted having a fling with him instead of pursuing a friendship I always thought might have been worth it. ah. lessons learned.

I have also never told a soul about this until now. writing it down here. after Kenny gave me a hard time over the shit I write in here, I feel the need to clarify what I meant. as with most things in here, I strive to write them down how they really are. sometimes it takes me a couple tries to actually know where I am.

a few years back, when my relationship was starting to fall apart (though I didn’t quite know it yet, how badly it was going to end) and I found myself frustrated and literally at the end of my rope, I sat down and I poured it all out in this blurb about who summed up my perfect guy. the kind that does not exist. I posted it on craigslist and got an insane amount of replys in the two hours I was away from my computer. I never wrote the post in a search of someone, I wrote it more as a scream out to somewhere, to someone, to the void. kinda like what I am doing here. to myself really, I guess. I never bothered to make much out of all those replys except for this one that kinda summed up all that I had asked for. I mean, what are the odds?

but I think in general, what we have here is the attraction to the idea of him. I never really got to know him at all, didn’t ever get a chance to either, so it’s hard to say. therefore he has always remained a mystery.

something changed yesterday. I realized that perhaps I was a scary thing for him, perhaps he was intimidated by me. or perhaps it was too complicated, who the fuck knows. so many reasons, wrong time, wrong place, but the right person. I think he scared me,  perhaps the feeling was mutual and maybe he always actually was somewhat curious, or I was some kind of a dirty secret. in some weird way that make s a person not shit, nor get off the pot. why else keep in contact for years to come with out ever meeting in person again? and then why always cancel ever single chance to meet at the last moment? I think he doesn’t have the guts….  yeah, I said it. but after all, did I avoid him..? maybe I never had the guts? this time I wouldn’t have butterflies in my stomach, not like I wondered if I would. I am content in knowing the man I have at home is above the rest, even if there’s someone I’ve sometimes wondered about. I guess I am saying I don’t care as much anymore. the thought of it and him makes me smile, still, but really what am I, or him, ever going to do with any of this information? absolutely nothing.

I have wondered if I would ever get my questions answered and if I’d always have to wonder. not like I could ask anyone. ever. life has a funny way of working things out. offering perspective.

thank you.

I turned 33 today. last night a bartender wouldn’t serve me a beer without my id. I thought I had started to look older than that. I understand my age. I am perplexed by it, but welcome it all the same. I feel like life has been a long journey and I adore all my memories. I have loved so many moments in my life and I hope for many more to come. I am reflecting.

so what do you do once your life has reached perfection? a zenith. as all things ebb and flow, so does my relationship with James. I struggle with things in my past, present and future, figuring out how to balance my life and what things are important to me and what are not. but in the end, or the beginning for that matter, I understand that these are my issues and my struggles. I feel badly for putting James through the awkward demands of my life, and feel sympathy for him even trying. what I have really come to see and understand is that I have an amazing man who loves me deeply. he really does and I see it in him every day. it warms my innards every time I notice it. it’s a unique privileged to enjoy the affection and love of another to this volume. James is like an ocean of love. what did I ever do right to deserve such love? I am forever grateful for it.

along with a wonderful man, I am amazed to find myself in this stage in life. I have a career that I love, that I will continue working on, I live in paradise. I really do and way too often I have forgotten to appreciate that. lately I have been asking myself the question: what on earth did I ever choose right to get this as my life now..? how did I get so damn lucky to be alive here, now, today, in this amazing place, with all these privileges, with all these opportunities to live and experience my life.

I have my citizenship interview on thursday. that’s a big part of the reason why I am reflecting. I can’t believe it’s finally time. I had to make a choice I avoided making for 13 years. I am really nervous about this, though all signs point that I should be just fine. but still. even though nothing will really change, it’s still a major mile stone in my life. not that this has been a goal that I would have been working for, it’s more like I am admitting that a part of me belongs here.

I don’t know how to put what I am feeling in words. there’s this onset of age. like a certain kind of calm and peaceful knowledge, experience, calmness, patience, gratitude and love. the rage has left me, the fire has evened to a stead fast warmth. this is what I feel inside. I am immensely grateful of what happened to me. about 4 years ago I was in a wildly different place in my life, still ridden with angst and roar. I was angry and I was gutwrenchingly sad. and I had no idea who I was, what my value was and what had been done to me.

it’s plain as day looking at it from here. a turning point. more like a guillotine point. savage tearing that led me here, living in paradise, working for myself, having an amazing man, mountains and blue skies all around. I needed something to knock me out, no punch me out of my pattern and force me to choose my life. for once, for myself.

I am headed to enjoy some of it. I am going skiing. by my self, for my birthday.

perhaps.

much like relationships, life happens when you stop trying to make it happen. when you stop looking for it.

I am surrendering to the tide. I will be washed away with it as it comes and I intend to be ready. where ever it ill take me, I will allow it.

hanging out with a bunch of twenty year olds with 13 year old kids is refreshing and interesting all the same. oh, the perspective! It reminds me how easy life used to be. when did I make it so complicated? at what age do we stop being so spontaneous? when does it stop being simple and just so easy? I didn’t realize it had become sticky until I watched myself hang out with them and see how easy everything is. like, why not? why not go by the seat of your pants? yeah, exactly. why not?

through the pits of my wallowing rises a desire to live. I find the burning anxiety again to be in the hills. I find thrill at the though of travel. at the thought of a strangers river trip. I am alive and this world is mine, now through a different set of eyes with a long past. I can live my life however my heart desires.

I try to remove myself from the relationship. I want to be in it with my thought and mind, but I don’t want it to be a passive rut. I want to choose to be in it, I want to choose to spend time with James. I want to choose to have dreams. I want to choose things. I am separating myself from being a part of someone else. I am not good at being a part of someone else. I want this someone else to be a part f my life, but not of me.

I am excited to proceed.

I came back. it’s like I am in mourning. it takes me days, weeks, if not a month to be back to normal. to feel comfortable again and to be ok with my life as I know it here. it’s like someone died and I am trying to hold on to their memory. desperately hanging on to the morsels that I was able to bring back with me. desperately never wanting to let go, but it happens no matter how much I fight. I live too much in the moment where ever I go, I can’t hang on.

then surely, as always, they fade into memory and fade into some distant double life I lead. in some other life. some other time. some days it seems like a dream, that distant home of mine. and so I have regrets. fighting the fall into depression. and the blame. I am blaming myself for leaving finland, and I am blaming myself for not being able to leave here. I blame myself for staying away from finland, and I blame myself for being gone too long from here, I blame myself for leaving, I blame myself for coming back. I blame myself for not living my life the way I want to.

*sigh*

I want to be free. I want to leave. I want to travel. I want to move to Missoula for a few months. I want so many more things, all the time, but I am starting to feel like I can’t make choices for myself because I am in a relationship. I can’t stop myself and stay in one place. it’s hard and it’s making me depressed. I am want to get in my car and drive. I want to leave. I want to drive. I want to be free.

I don’t know how to stop. part of me thinks that stopping is settling. like suddenly I would look around me and go “is that all there was?”

I want to keep moving forward. I can’t stay in bozeman. I have an itch. I scream for something, for someone. I am falling. I see myself slipping. I have been slipping for a while, but I can’t talk about it anymore, I have to run.

as much as I love this country, it also drives me insane. the people do, they always have. from a pretty early age I have always struggled against these you must and you must not’s. there’s a huge list of rules in this country. some of them are written and there’s a long list of officials governing these rules and enforcing them. often they are also left for each petty officials personal interpretation and often you might get completely different denials based on that personal interpretation. but most often than not, what you get is denials. and you apply and re-apply. but everyone, in any role, job or position wants to be as petty and nit picky as possible.

it’s in the foundation of this culture. there must be rules. and if there aren’t, surely, what ever you are about to do is forbidden somewhere or somehow. after all…. there are rules. the people here, even the most lenient of the rule followers are very stuck in their mold. everything here, in the daily life, reflects the insane amount of obedience towards some kind of a rule. there’s a constant assumption that there must be a rule against it. ans there’s a constant worry about breaking those rules.

spending a month here gets me so exhausted over the worry and rule following. I find it extremely tiring. I don’t bother to worry about such things, I never much have. even if they are not rules of the bureaucracy they are following, it’s some unspoken cultural law that is in effect. like you can’t put grandma’s doilies onto a rustic table cause they don’t fit the design style. by who’s rules? Finnish people are so stuck in a square box and they are too scared to even sniff into a different direction. in fact, they have a hard time to think outside of the box because they have been hammered with these rules and being afraid of breaking some kind of a rule.

me. coming from the united states have a hard time watching all this. I mean, who cares? why be so concerned with what some stranger thinks of you? like being afraid of talking cause someone might understand. why should we care if someone over hears our conversation?

I wish they could see sometimes how truly silly their rules are.

I have had many relationships in my life. in fact, a part from my two year break and long stretch of celibacy after moving to montana, I have been breaking up and hooking up with people since I was 14. I feel  like I have spent most of my life compromising myself and my own passions for the sake of some guy. when I left Jason and after the shitty aftermath that followed, I resolved to never again apologize for who I am and the things I want in my life. and more importantly to never again compromise the importance of my family and the role finland plays in my life because of any relationship.

I have come to wonder this: why is it seemingly impossible to leave your partner alone in the US for a month or two without them finding someone else? I have heard this same complain from James, the fire fighter and Jacob the mountaineering guide. when I left for a summer to be with my family and in my country, Zeb found someone else after demanding I return to the US immediately. threatening me with the fact he might. at least I was warned, but seriously!? granted we were young, he has changed a lot too. when I left for two months to build our family hotel in finland, Jason was cheating on me and persistently lied about it for months afterwards, causing irreparable damage in me for my faith in any relationship. or in certain people for that fact. which actually turned out to be a good thing anyways, I have since learned to choose my friends better and recognize dickheads like him.

James is taking his turn. voicing his complaints about the fact that he feels like I am making decisions about my life without including him in my plans, or giving him too much importance when it comes to decisions. which is true, I am not including him much, just hoping he’ll be cool with it. I simply can’t. like the inevitable fact that I will probably spend a few months out of the year in Finland. he is not happy. he is also not happy that I don’t talk to him often. cause I really have had no time. literally, and it might be hard to understand. I also don’t understand why we need to talk constantly, I am fine knowing he’s there doing his thing and I am busy here. he’ll have me all to himself back in MT, so chill out.

I can try to explain that once I get on my family’s orbit, the only way to get off it, is to board a plane out of the country. seriously. but why do I need to be there for him while I am here? why can’t people get by by themselves for a while? why do they need my hand holding? why do I have to feel like I can’t leave them on their own for a while? why is this a constant worry, why does it need to be?

in effect, since I have been in so many relationships and since I have become (more or less) jaded to the importance of relationships. if they end, so be it, change is always good and possibly fun. the ending of any relationship is not such a devastating thing to me these days. I think I have become jaded to the point that men come and go from my life. most, I don’t expect to stay and it’s a nice thing if James does. I understand that what particularly makes me jaded, is the fact that I absolutely refuse to compromise things like the importance of spending time with my family and being close with them. the harsh reality of this is that I have to be gone for extended periods of time. I also will not compromise to my mom being able to live in montana for most of the year. these are the two most important things in my life. I hope that James, or whom ever it is I am with, can understand that just because I am gone, it does not need to be the end of the world. and I hope they can cope and be happy that I am doing things to keep myself happy.

I am also in the midst of the horrific realization that my mom is not getting any younger. she is flat out the most important person in my life and has always been my best friend and I am stricken by the thought that a backpacking trip with her might not be a reality anymore. I have also understood that with good luck I probably have another 20 good years left with her. it’s not enough. if I don’t spend more time with her now, and the rest of my family, I know for a fact, it will be something I will regret tremendously for the rest of of my life. absolutely.

our world has changed so dramatically, that we no longer need to rely on a partner to make it in life. we no longer need partnerships to make ends meet, to build a life, business, raise kids, etc. the role a partner now plays in my life is being my best friend and my companion, but I don’t expect them to be my all. I don’t want them to be my all and I absolutely detest any relationship that shapes out that way. sadly James and I kinda orbit around each other because of the general awesomeness of the population in bozeman, but luckily it does not bother me too much since he’s really easy to be around.

surely, I want to keep my happy peaceful relationship, but brutally, I also refuse to give up being with my family. this is also something I would not ask of anyone I am with. when James and I first started dating, I felt like I wanted him around more and perhaps grudged about him being gone for so long, but the reality is, that I love my own time by myself. I don’t want him there all the time. I really don’t. I still want to be independent, make my own decisions, I still want to travel with or with out him. I am incredibly selfish here, and I kinda feel bad about the fact that James has to deal with the result of years of not treating myself well. or that I have always been giving too much to everyone I have been with. I feel badly that then in return I am asking him to accept and bend to my needs. and stop whining about what I want to do with my life. I have been with myself a lot longer than he has been here and I am sorry, but I come first, I always will. and my family comes before him. it does not mean that I love him any less.

I also think I might be slowly realizing that buying a home and building a family in one location is probably not my thing. even if I have kids. I do want this, or some version of it, but what it might look like, I don’t know yet. my life has been, for such a long time based on transience, rather than staying still. just because others are either incapable or disinterested in constant change and evolution, does not mean that I can’t tailor my life to fit my own needs. I want to try to live a life full of change, because it’s the one thing that keeps me and my life interesting and vibrant.

I mean, I have spent a lot of money and years in school and working on my career, that now that I have this amazing opportunity to really make my life work for me, live it where and when I want to, should I say ‘no’ just because someone loves me? like, why should I say no to the opportunity to live in Italy and ski the dolomites for a season if I can? while I can still do it easily?

I have fallen in and out of love lots of times. I have an overwhelming capacity to love, I know this about myself. I also know that there is no such thing as “the one” there are “oneS”. especially due to my mixture of character that is a chameleon and at the same time unyielding. if I so choose, I can love, or not love for that matter. what really sets James a part is the fact that for the first time I am with someone whom I find so agreeable that we rarely actually fight. despite our little spats or one of us just being grumpy, nothing really escalates. that alone is a rare thing to find, although I now wonder, if a huge part of that is me finding inner peace. so to speak. who knows, and if I stay with him, I might never find out, but I am incredibly curious. staying with the same person “from now on” is a hard concept for me, as it might be for anyone.

there are a lot of these things I feel like i have worked on, spent lots of time mulling over and I often feel like most people I have dated, James included, are light years away from far sightedness when it comes to the meaning of modern relationships and the expectations we still place on marriage. and the fact that I know what I need to be happy. these old forms are ancient and I think they also lead to a lot of divorces. but I have never met anyone how did not flat out rebel against all these views of mine, like having separate houses. I have long understood that I will never fit the norm. and that in order to be happy and content in any relationship, I have to be able to mold into a some kind of a compromise where I am not miserable. and what I need to be happy, certainly rarely fits the standard.

it’s hard to explain. it’s hard to explain to those who share this motherland and it’s harder to explain to anyone in the US. I think my step-dad would understand. maybe my grandpa might too, but he was long gone by the time I realized I yearned to hear it from him. or tell him how much it meant to me what they did.

this little piece of land matters so much to the handful of people that live here. it matters little to anyone else. the people who inhabit this cold and bitter slice of land are moved by the stoutness of their desire to defend this soil. the fathers and sons of this country have many times over bled to keep what they claim to be theirs. theirs to share. many of whom I know have since passed. in the past few years, since I left, I begged my grandmother to record the stories she used to tell when I was a child. these stories are engrained in my childhood. I knew what they fought for. but I never really understood the meaning of this until I was older. I thought surely, everyones granddads had been to war, in their own backyard. I always assumed it was a part of our the natural history that repeated itself.

much later I understood the profoundness of these acts. had they not, my life would be wildly different now. in fact, I might not be here at all, and if I were, we might live under Russian communist rule. instead. I got a life of luxury. instead I got to choose what I got to do with my life. they gave me a choice. true freedom. true democracy.

I miss my country terribly. I miss being here. I miss being with my family. I miss being in their light. though I have been gone, and I feel like a foreigner in finland, when I come together with my family I make sense. my life makes sense, I am grounded, I am no longer lost, I am no longer wondering, I am home. I can taste the dirt in my blood, my motherland. there are many things that affect me incredibly. little things make me cry. little things move me to tears. the holyness of the bravery and the misery of it all. I am proud. and I am thankful.

me and my mom had a sing-a-long at the hotel yesterday. every song was filled with words of how dear this land was. how it meant nothing to someone, but how it was everything to them. how irreplaceable it is. how nothing compares. sometimes I feel like I have no real home or nationality. but when I come here, I understand. when I walk into the church, when I walk through the grave yard, it’s like I can hear them whispering. the honor. they lay here because they lived and died for us. not jesus, but these women and men, they build this country and I owe them everything I have today. it’s bitter sweet flavor, a heritage that runs in my veins, something I can hear when I set foot here. these old roots.

I’ve never felt such stout patriotism. inkling to the stoutness of religion, I feel it when I light a candle at their grave to remember what they gave. there is this deep sense of grave and a of bravery. a gratitude in their silence.

it’s a real bitch coming this way, in fact it’s fucking painful and awful. for about a week I feel nausea and like I am walking around in my sleep. the exhaustion gets so bad that I often feel dizzy and when I go into small spaces like elevators or bathrooms, I feel I might fall down. it’s really weird. feels like you are on a sail boat at all times. the routine is that I can’t sleep at night, my body is awake and does things like makes me get up and poop at 2am, I have to pee like 5 times in a night when I don’t pee at all during the day. my stomach also growls with hunger in the middle of the night, but during the day I lose my appetite and forget to eat anything.

the evenings are the worst: social hour. by 6pm I am so tired and dizzy, I literally just pass out. like I was drop dead drunk. having one beer really does the trick and my speech becomes slurred. literally the exhaustion gets so bad that I feel nauseous and the evenings are the absolute worst. BUT if I make it past 10pm, then I am wide awake again. though falling asleep is never an issue, the problem then becomes staying asleep. couple first nights I wake up around 2 or 3 am. wide awake. this gets better in about a week. but during all that time I just want to get some sleep, but my body and everything is so fucked up, it’s just not happening. so I just really feel ill for about a week. I hate jetlag.

today I woke up at 8am. FUCKING AWESOME!!!! I was thrilled to see the time when I got up to poo. god bless normalcy.

it’s because of this (and some other factors) that I sincerely, from now on plan to make my trips here last anywhere from a month to three months. I can do this. I can do this now and I should take advantage of the fact that I am able to come here how ever much I like. I have realized that fall is the best time for me to be here. it’s shitty in bozeman after october usually. yes, sometimes the skiing is awesome, but really, the best season for me in the united states is from january to september. I am focusing my sports. skiing the winter (byep starts up in january too), skiing the spring and summer into mountain biking season. rafting and whitewater follows and by september the H2O fueled activities die down. the waters stop flowing.