I woke up in my car at a trail head in gallatin canyon. it was a cold rainy montana morning. plugged my phone into my little speaker and tuned to some happy summer reggae songs. sat there brushing my teeth with moose running around. wearing a 700 fill downjacket wishing I’d brought my sorels. walk to the bathroom leaves morning due on my chacos.

my life is so funny.

I got into my car, drove back to big sky. ran by the bakery. coffee and breakfast in hand headed back to Geyser for another glorious day of running myself ragged on the river. swift water rescue class. memorizing 2 back, all forward, stop. move around this rock, pivot right here, shimmy up on this one, spin off that one. jeesh.

who would have thought that I would find myself here. sometimes I suddenly acknowledge how utopistic my life seems to my friends and family in finland. where I live, what I do and everything about my life.

this wild country. this big big sky. miles and miles of dirt road. chaco tans. rivers. my rhythm. winter blizzards. camping out of my car. skiing couloirs. virginia city. western store fronts.

I hiked with Kate in the Pintlers one weekend. had an awesome time climbing on top of peaks amongst alpine lakes. skinny dipped and laid around naked on the beaches of one I found in a random basin while Kate was exploring other basins. week later I spent 4 days at Red Ants Pants festival with awesome girl crew for company. we all worked the event, camped out, partied out and watched a shit ton of good music. amazing experience as always!

I am taking a day off from running the river or doing anything but managing my life. ha. feel slightly abused by yesterdays mountain bike ride. Curly Lake loop in the Tobacco Roots delivers amazing top-of-the-world-views, 20-some miles of rocky as shit technical trail, 5000 ft elevation gain and numerous bruises the morning after that you’re not exactly sure how they got there. I don’t feel tired as much as I feel like I’ve been kicked by rocks, scraped by my bike, branches and you name it. good times!

life comes at you fast. and I felt like I needed to say yes again.

and so I find myself suddenly busier than I have been in a couple years. but doing something entirely different. I am running the gallatin river in the back of a paddle boat, three times a day, memorizing every damn rock on the river. memorizing my line. because at 600 cfs, there’s only one. smelling like neoprene, even if I don’t wear any. loading boats, unloading boats, checking life vests, handing out dry tops, collecting paddles…

how I got roped into this, I am not entirely sure. I feel compelled to do it, none the less, I want to guide. I was never really sure if I wanted to or not, but I feel like I am trainable. I can figure this out. mountains of self doubt. even though at the end of the day I feel exhausted and not entirely sure why I am giving up my freedom to do this, I still feel elevated. somehow a little wonderful.

I may have reached another side of my stupid depression. I have a ways to go, and I hope going to hang out in gloomy rain in finland for the fall won’t tear me down. it’s a valid concern. even though I still don’t regard myself as anyone someone would want to hold onto, I need to work on that. I think I may have had enough about caring wither or not that’s the case and focus on my own happiness instead.

life is alright.

I woke up early. grabbed my towel and headed for the shower. I stood in front of the mirror for a second and abruptly changed my mind. by boat was already strapped to the roof of the car. get out now! when the urge strikes, I don’t often have the patience to do things like cook breakfast or load the car. I wanna jump in an go. grabbed a la croix out of the fridge, stuffed my face with some fresh berries, grabbed my pipe and paddle and headed for the lake. Ennis lake shorelines greeted me with glassy still waters as I dropped my kayak in the water and settled into my paddle stroke. whoa! it’s been two years since I took my boat out and put my paddle in the water. it felt strange, but I felt like a kid, it felt like something new.

I am excited. I paddle into the bear trap canyon and breathe in the calm morning air among the canyon walls. I am so happy I didn’t sell my boat.

I enjoy discovering new areas, new trails, new rivers. Ennis offers just that.

this morning when I got up, waking up in big sky, I headed for the grizzly loop trail, spaced out on the way up. meditating. clearing my head. going to my church. what ever you want to call it, I love the moments when I am out alone in the woods, the time I have to think. I am ready to be happy. I am ready to fill my life with all theses things that make me happy to be alive, to appreciate where I live.

I took Kate’s invite to hit up the Pintlers for a weekend of backpacking. I can’t remember the last time I backpacked for the sake of backpacking. I used to be a hiking fool. I still am, and I love to cover ground. mileage makes me feel good. the more I move the better I feel. always.

happiness follows movement.

in all honesty. nothing is getting cured. I no longer see a way out. I don’t see a way to let go. I carry so much with me and I internalize it all. after so many times of the same, isn’t it obvious it’s really just all about me? wallowing.

I can see your peaks from here. fight for your honesty. I have been mourning. for which I am not sure. I carry too much with me. of everything that has happened. moving to Ennis cures the soul, we’ll see how it feels in the winter time.

in the morning I hear the birds singing, the wind blowing, everything else is silent. except for the rustle of the deer running around. am I safe here by the water and amongst the cotton woods?

spent the weekend in missoula with friends and it felt nice. I love my sisters. love seeing people believing in me.

I feel like a little girl. I can see your peaks from here. wish you could see mine. I feel like have a mountain to climb before I can swim myself out of this hole. I’m afloat.

I fell a few months back. I’ll be down for a while.

I am a dreamer. I am a lover.

sometimes I forget where I have been or where I should be headed, but try to remember that there are people out there who love you. and remember that there are lots of people out there you love. just because you’re alone and they’re not there, don’t forget.

don’t forget to reach out to them either. stop being so lost, biding time.

CREATE!

there’s something about Stanley that makes me lose my mind. I’m in heaven here. I love everything about it. every cent of it. I’m putting on the river tomorrow with a crew that I’m blown away I ever got invited on. I’m a passenger. somehow.

but fucking a. Katrina, I will be thinking of you the entire way. and maybe that way i’ll find a way to let you go. I also know you’ll be so stoked to see me from up there.

I’ll wave for you, dance around the campfire in the moonlight, with my toes in the sand. bless you bubbly heart.

my fickle mind.

being cheated on time after another that changes the way I look at my life. I know this seems slightly crazy to some people, but I really believe in the zodiac. I realize the descriptions of our signs and our traits comes in as varied interpretation as there are people on this planet. but I do honestly believe that they are very accurate character traits that have an underlying pattern. I sincerely believe this, and for the past four years that I have actually paid any attention to them, they have shown to be quite valid.

there are a lot of things I have always known about my self, being a fish, and I’ve always, since child, been an apt pupil of what my sign represents. recently I have been doing some deeper reading about myself and my sign. I feel like I have found something I really didn’t want to be true. as intuitive as I am, when it comes to affairs of the heart I’ve always been blind as a bat. I now understand and see, that my life is, always might be, a string of failed relationships and falling for the wrong man.

so. for a few years I have wanted nothing more than to marry and to have a kid. to start a family. I have been damn near desperate to get on with having a kid, at least to have that plan in place. suddenly I made it over some kind of a hump. maybe I don’t want to have a kid after all? I really want to have the experience of being a mom, but I have a really hard time accepting the fact that I would have to give up my freedom for several years. in fact, seeing that I am 34 now, it’d pretty much mean giving up my freedom for the rest of my adult life. do I seriously think I’d have what it takes to withstand that? me; a person who is utterly spoiled with zero authority figure in my life and a fraction of the responsibility most people have in their lives, even in the simple form of a boss and a job. lately I have kinda taken a harder look at my life and myself and wondered if having a kid really is what I want. is it? if it never happened, would it be that bad after all? could I accept, that it never happened after all even if I lived an amazing fulfilled life? will I feel fulfilled without ever becoming a mom?

I feel like my life has finally gotten really good. pretty much since I turned 30. I finally learned some things about myself, like knowing what I need to be happy. the most important thing. rather than just going through my life, I feel like I can finally engage in coordinated efforts of self-indulgence, rather than it’s mindless form. I really want to enjoy this life that I’ve built now. I want to enjoy life with the me I have built, I am excited about it. I’m not so sure I am willing to give it up so quickly now that I’ve found it.

as a part of a lengthy conversation, Ted said to me one night, that he saw how much I enjoyed my freedom, and that’s what made him figure I’d do anything to make sure I wouldn’t get pregrant. his words, though they were tossed out there just as his passing interpretation of how he saw me kinda stuck with me. they’ve come up in thought a couple times since then and have added to my accumulative assumption of the whole. how valuable is my freedom?  how would I combat the responsibilities of motherhood? could I give up skiing for a couple years? is having a child really worth giving up so much about your life you know today?

I have dared to think differently lately and I have been trying it on for size. it doesn’t keep out mosquitoes, nor stars. but I am intrigued by it and it might fit. this is how I change, this is how change comes to me. I taste it a little. see how it feels. I let it develop. I won’t even write about it for a while until I know what to say. I try it on. I take it off. I go back to the store later and buy it. but you all know by now, I will change my mind many times over through the course of the years. or weeks. where ever the wind blows.

they say that after 35-something the odds of you ever finding a husband diminish significantly. or was it 40? I’m starting to realize it’s true. if not for any other reason than the fact that everyone else is just as jaded as I am at this point.

after yet another relationship, I think I am starting to give up the idea that anyone would ever come along and want me enough to want to marry me. I know marriage is a hyped thing, and it’s not so much the institution I am interested in. it’s merely wanting to, at least once in my life, know what it felt like to have someone love you that much, that they could honestly say to me “I choose you”. that’s really all that marriage represents to me. somehow, the fact that no one has ever asked, kinda makes my heart brittle a little. more than ever, I am resolved to the fact that my relationships will always be in turmoil. I will lose my heart many times over to the wrong men in my life time.

I will never find the right person, I will never meet a man who would want to be the father of my child. I will never meet a man that might, left to his own devices, buy me a ring and ask me to marry him. it’s time I accepted that and stopped looking for it, hoping for it. I didn’t even realize how badly I had been searching for just that.

letting it go, feels like a heavy weight has been lifted.

so. I have been thinking. James did his deed and spent the winter begging me to forgive him. it took me a while to understand what my pain was, what part of the deed was I upset by. what I was really angry at and what fueled my sadness? it’s not so much the cheating act alone that I got hung up on, but giving her the arsenal for writing that email, her telling me something he hadn’t. then in turn, what broke the camels back was the phone calls to her over Christmas. again, giving her ammo, making her seem important to him.

really, the problem here is that I can never truly forgive James for the way he thought I could/should be treated.

understanding of myself gets better as I age, but it also gets more complicated. I reiterate how important my time alone is and how badly I need/want my independent life. I enravel in it. it’s what makes me whole and keeps me sane, nothing else ever will. I know now, James was more or less threatened by the aspect of me making new male friends and meeting new people to go skiing with. I didn’t know back then, how much he dragged himself along because he didn’t want some other dude doing it with me. that’s a terrible relationship to live in, for both of us. I always wanted to do big things, he didn’t and didn’t really want me meeting new people to adventure with. let’s face it, he held me back a bit.

I know James is pissed cause he spent his winter trying to win me back. it’s sad he’s not man enough to own up to his choices, face the aftermath and take it like a man. there has been something very juvenile about about these arguments. the stuff about my short comings as a person in our relationship, yeah I get that, you might have something there. all this has made me see what I want in a relationship. it has become clear, that he’s either just much younger than me, or he seriously has a different expectation of relationships. I get that, a lot of people do. there are a lot of things he’s asked me to compromise about who I am recently, not understanding that these are things that I cannot change about myself. he calls it compromise, I would call suicide. he fails to see how the complaints he has about me as a person in our relationship are largely who I am. in my core. most people don’t want someone this independent, who wants to spend time alone and travel. James doesn’t regard a relationship a relationship if we spend 6 months a year apart, it’s not enough for him. what kind of a relationship is that? I call it a good one.

and that’s kinda why I’ve had tremendous respect for Ted. he told me the other night he wishes him and I would end up together, but he also says he has tremendous amount of respect for me and he does not want/try to posses me. it’s such a stark difference to being in a relationship with someone whom I feel like I am the air they breathe. Ted’s never asked me to promise anything, he’s never asked about anything else. and I like that. but at the same time, I know he’s way into me, he’s honest about that. it’s an unusual balance that I am not sure if it’s just Ted and who he is (might be a huge part of it considering where he comes from), or if a large part of it is also in dating an older man. one that has given up such foolish expectations of a another person. whom can respect me the way I am and where I am. not trying to keep me and put me in a bottle, which is what I feel like every person I have ever had a serious relationship with has done, or tried to do. I don’t necessarily blame them for it, I’ve allowed it as I have not understood my perimeters, and theirs. I don’t want all encompassing co-habitation. I don’t want an obsession.

all this brings us back to my conversations with James. there’s a significant rift between our understanding of the circumstance and our communication. recently he told me “can’t you just get over it so we can move on?” what he does not understand is that when he had his affair, it’s not the part about having sex with someone else that broke us up, it was the absolute absence of integrity. he acted like he’d had his affair out of some lack of self control, he just couldn’t help it because he was having such a hard time. he’d decided during this time that I did not love him because I was out living my own life.

and that’s how I lost respect for him. it’s not about forgiveness. there’s nothing to forgive here. I simply lost faith, you can’t change that. it’s not even about losing trust, per se, because I know I can trust his heart, I know his heart and strangely enough, I know it’s true and he’s always been an open book when it comes to that. but what I can’t trust, is that he can be man enough to deal with his emotions by himself, not turning to the nearest pussy when he is having a weak moment. if you’re going to do it, than do it with intention, plan it, do it, use condoms, and be fucking honest with me about it. don’t come home as coward who can’t quite own up to what you’ve done, and as a result put my life in immediate danger.

I never realized there was more to people than knowing their heart. no matter what the heart feels and the mind says, apparently we can be driven to all kinds of things. it’s kinda the same as all of us being a little crazy really, we each just funnel it differently.

more about dating older men. I think I like it. I don’t want to be anyone’s mother. I fucking hate it. hate it with a passion, but I am often put in that position. I am a natural leader and find myself in that role frequently, but I don’t want to be a leader in my relationship. I want my man to order my drink at the restaurant without asking me what I want. it’s kind of a turn on. I want a man who will point me to the line I am about to ski, a man that will take me there. I don’t want to always be the trip leader in my relationship, I would love for someone else to take charge.

I know that I am an intimidating person to date for most men my age. I think some men are kinda scared of me, really. I know that the pool of men I could possibly ever date, is incredibly small. I mean, they have to be a better skier than me to start, than there’s the whole thing where I don’t want to be so dominant, but I easily am, so.. there we have it. that’s why I think dating older men is kinda nice, cause they are so freaking stoked about you, have their shit together and have tremendous amounts of respect for you. they also aren’t as big of sluts and seem humbler than the cocky boys of my own age group. ha.

so what am I now? I spent saturday night drowning myself in the bottle, saying good bye to Katrina and Dave, meeting all their friends and parents. sunday morning I got up, still drunk, fell out of my bed, threw up and dragged my reluctant ass to their apartment to join the rest of the hung over group of friends and family. we cleaned, divided things, took stuff to goodwill, finished up. brought things to a close. I had been avoiding her apartment, all the while, wanting to just stop by and cry in her backyard.

it was heart breaking to clean up after their lives, knowing we needed it. needed closure. I needed every bit of it to move and say good bye. to accept it that they’re gone. however, it put my mind on her again and I couldn’t shake her out of my head, or the ill feeling of it all. the loss, the tragedy, the ugliness and sadness. so I took a drive. soaked at Norris. thought about the world, my life and everything in it. with everyone leaving for the summer season, and me being in a holding pattern, watching it rain. I can’t seem to get a hold on life. can’t get a new lease on life and I can’t figure out why. I feel alone.

life goes on.

I think part of my anxiety comes from not having a real home, or spot to call my own, and having such a hard time finding anything decent in Bozeman. I’ve pretty much resolved that I have to buy a house and there’s no other option for me anymore. I’m tired of being a transient, I’m tired of always moving. I’m tired of not having my own garden and my own shit. I’m moving to Ennis, I think. I do love Bozeman, but still with most of my friends being gone for the summer season, or most of them living outside of Bozeman anyway, why do I stay in this town? after being in montana a few years, it starts to wear on me the folks who move into this town. the bright-eyed-bushy-tailness of it all. the attitude you can literally see rolling into town. Bozeman is not truly montana… is it?