Get to the promised land
Had a party last night.
My house is small, and I haven't had more than four or five people to the house before last night. In an odd way, I am kind of embarrassed to have people over. I mean, I think my house is decked out in style, especially with all the plants and love and little touches that Stanette has brought... but, in the social circle I have fallen into, well... some of them have very nice places.
I live in a whopping 1555 square feet. Granted, 99.99% of the time, I am perfectly content with the situation. In fact, I have two bedrooms and two bathrooms that I really don't need. (Okay. I admit, I enjoy having a bathroom that is solely dedicated to dumping. There's a stack of books in there, ranging from Bukowski to Burroughs; it is isolated from the general population; good exhaust, plenty of room to stretch out and explore the studio space... I like it.)
I'm not sure where I was going with this, except that it went alright. Everyone had a good time. We (shocker) ended up playing some music, and I coaxed a couple people into joining in, including a blonde named Emily. I slung a bass over her shoulder and said, "Your job is to look hot."
It was a pizza party, and I worked like an illegal immigrant, rolling dough, sprinkling cheese, mixing drinks and, you know, being me.
Later, when we were playing music, I was made aware that I am out of my league.
I am out of my league, and I always have been.
I guess that begs the question of exactly which league I'm in.
Anyway, it was daylight savings today, and I took a four hour drive by myself, listening to satellite radio.
Here is the photographic evidence of same:
Sexy bitch.
I live in the best place on earth.
In addition to the burden of being so goddamned sexy, that is a considerable cross to bear. Living here? Being me? It's a tough fucking job.
You have absolutely no idea what goes into it.
This is Big Sky. Pray for more snow.
I have been down every one of those chutes across the top, except for those that cliff out to the far left. By the by, that include the couloir on the very righty edge of the shadow off the tippy-top. Yes, it was scary.
Conveniently, in this next picture, the part of the mountain that is covered by shadow is Moonlight Basin resort. They share the ridge with Big Sky. This season, I have access to the whole enchilada.
You have to hike to those chutes in the shadow. An avalanche transceiver and shovel is required.
(Big Sky again. Moonlight is over the right shoulder. In case you gave a shit.)
My house is small, and I haven't had more than four or five people to the house before last night. In an odd way, I am kind of embarrassed to have people over. I mean, I think my house is decked out in style, especially with all the plants and love and little touches that Stanette has brought... but, in the social circle I have fallen into, well... some of them have very nice places.
I live in a whopping 1555 square feet. Granted, 99.99% of the time, I am perfectly content with the situation. In fact, I have two bedrooms and two bathrooms that I really don't need. (Okay. I admit, I enjoy having a bathroom that is solely dedicated to dumping. There's a stack of books in there, ranging from Bukowski to Burroughs; it is isolated from the general population; good exhaust, plenty of room to stretch out and explore the studio space... I like it.)
I'm not sure where I was going with this, except that it went alright. Everyone had a good time. We (shocker) ended up playing some music, and I coaxed a couple people into joining in, including a blonde named Emily. I slung a bass over her shoulder and said, "Your job is to look hot."
It was a pizza party, and I worked like an illegal immigrant, rolling dough, sprinkling cheese, mixing drinks and, you know, being me.
Later, when we were playing music, I was made aware that I am out of my league.
I am out of my league, and I always have been.
I guess that begs the question of exactly which league I'm in.
Anyway, it was daylight savings today, and I took a four hour drive by myself, listening to satellite radio.
Here is the photographic evidence of same:
Sexy bitch.
I live in the best place on earth.
In addition to the burden of being so goddamned sexy, that is a considerable cross to bear. Living here? Being me? It's a tough fucking job.
You have absolutely no idea what goes into it.
This is Big Sky. Pray for more snow.
I have been down every one of those chutes across the top, except for those that cliff out to the far left. By the by, that include the couloir on the very righty edge of the shadow off the tippy-top. Yes, it was scary.
Conveniently, in this next picture, the part of the mountain that is covered by shadow is Moonlight Basin resort. They share the ridge with Big Sky. This season, I have access to the whole enchilada.
You have to hike to those chutes in the shadow. An avalanche transceiver and shovel is required.
(Big Sky again. Moonlight is over the right shoulder. In case you gave a shit.)
3 Comments:
League, schmeague. . .
We live in the best place in the world!
Love the pics. You do live in the best place on earth.
I took a shower today in a fresh tub that I've never used. It was a nice change of scenery. I've been in this house for four months now and only have one more shower to try out, but it's next to the "Throne". I'm saving that for a holiday.
With that said, I wish my wife didn't have such "big" dreams when it came to houses.
By my calculations, you've got it just right. You're not missin' a thing, but you already knew that.
Eugene, can you send me some pics... just for old times sake?
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