Christmas Vacation

Well, my initial Christmas break, a 10 day road trip to Baja did not work out. Within two hours of realizing the deadness of my Mexico trip, Momo had gifted me frequent flyer miles and I had an itinerary to travel to VT for break. Total dream. There is heaps of snow, many friends, a clean, dry, warm house, Switchback, Jay, Cassidy, my favorite hairdresser, and the list continues. I was not planning on heading back east until May. I don't know if it was a self challenge or what. Sort of like when I would travel abroad and never call home- what was the point? Prove toughness? Unclear. Right now I am biding my time in Lakeview before driving to Reno (like the Johnny Cash song) to gamble away the $100 my grandparents sent me and catch a redeye to BTV.

As you can imagine this trip home has put me in a good mood. This weekend was filled with South Central Oregon adventures. Highlights include:

• sweet, sweet snowshoe in Freemont National Forrest, at about 6,000 feet
• getting the nerve up to go to the bar on a Saturday night with the cowboy
• meeting a graduate of my neighboring alma mater in VT, a '67 Colchester Alum
• hearing rap music including the Nate Dog/Eminem song in a cowboy bar and me being the only one who thought it was funny
• every man in the room singing, full volume to Folsom Prison
• approaching an older guy who was missing a front tooth, who I thought was my neighbor's husband, turns out Dennis was only dating her when her husband was still in prison, he is the one who gave me the ugly, ugly chairs for my house that continue to sit on my front porch, he also asked me to flip with him, $1 a bet, the cowboy was like no, erin don't do it, I did it, I won the first flip and then lost the last three, and I had to buy him a beer. This guy Dennis is crazy.
• spending all day yesterday with the cowboy, we went on a 6 mile horseback ride, we moved the horses from a ranch he works at to California, it was beautiful, and very scary, I trotted a little, we rode over someone else's land and go yelled at, we watched a pickup with 20 bales of hay feed 100ish cows/steers/whatever
• during the horseback ride I was doing my best to look the part: boots, old jeans, corduroy jacket, leather gloves. I asked the cowboy if I looked like a cowgirl and responded, "No, you look like somebody at a dude ranch." A dude ranch is where people pay money to work. He couldn't understand this and then said, "I would never pay you to let me work on a computer."

Anyway, a great weekend. I did take photos of the ride and will post them at a later date.

Winter Solstice 2K7

Well, I am here at the office. All alone. No one is even on google chat. I am taking the next 2 weeks off from work and cannot seem to get anything done. The majority of the morning was spend chatting. And then a bit of work, lunch, more work, and now I am counting down. 4:45 and I'm out. I told Ronne Lindsay that I was going to 20 hours of work while in VT. She said, "Impossible." And then said do 10 hours if you want to. Do I want to? Not really. I am applying for grad school and skiing and drinking and basking in the sweetness of the East Coast.

I can't believe I moved to the West coast. Something I never thought I would do. And, although I am often lonely and isolated, I really like it and will be here for at least three years. Grad school at University of Oregon and maybe work after that?

Some more comments on Lakeview: I've met two families who have sons named Larry and Terry. What? And another family that has daughters named Andrea and Angela. Does this happen often? Is it a joke? I mean it is funny.

My Sunday PART I

Alright. Yesterday was pretty interesting. After a nice morning of talking to Momo, drinking coffee, and reading the New Yorker (which I receive on the cover date, which pisses me off but that is a different issue, for different time.) This cowboy, Larry, who is sort of courting me stopped by. I was in my pjs and he wanted to know why I hadn't called him to have a horseback riding lesson. I made a plan with him to play pool Monday night at 7 at the Eagle's Nest (no, not summer camp) the bar here in Lakeview. Fast-forward, I am in my car heading out of town to hike in the Fremont National Forest. Larry calls. I tell him what I am doing and he offers to come and to bring some guns to shoot. Ok. Sure. I turn around and pick him up.

We ride into the Forest which is only about 20 miles from town. I am nervous to shoot guns and decide to get psyched by putting on Good News for the People. At about song 7, Larry is like, "Is this music?" I respond with, "Yes, this is Modest Mouse." I mean, how could anyone listen to that album and not get excited, seriously. Larry then tells me he doesn't like mice.

We get to Mud Creek and get out of the car. We open the back and out of his saddlebag he takes two hand guns each in a holster with bullets all around the belt area. One of the guns looks like a old west toy and the other was sort of chunky and silver with a wooden handle. And then he asks me if I want to wear one. Absolutely. So I strap it on. And then he gives me a 357 magnum rifle gun. And he grabs the larger rifle gun.

And we start walking. It was a sight to see. There was Larry in all natural fibers: black cowboy boots with pointy toes and heels and no traction, tight jeans, flannel shirt, carhartt jacket, silk scarf around his neck, no gloves and a cowboy hat (not like the one you would picture, they are different here, they have a wide rim that is flat and the same distance from the middle.) And there I was, dressed for a solo hike, I was wearing crampon compatible winter hiking boots, gators, softshell pants and jacket (which are windproof and highly breathable), gloves, and a windproof fleece hat. So ridiculous.

And we walked and talked and examined animal tracts, and talked about guns, and snow was falling. Very, very peaceful. And every once in a while we (I, I always chose when) we would stop and shoot guns. Now, before yesterday I had only ever shot one gun. Once. I think I have only ever touched maybe three guns in my entire life. Let me tell you it is some rush to shoot a gun. The hand guns were really creepy in that I felt sort of like a cop and sort of like Charlie's Angels. There is some so palpable about the power you feel when you shoot a gun. I can't really imagine what it is like to hunt or be in the army and shoot some sort of enemy. Yuck. And then I shot one of the rifles. I like the rifle the best. My shots were not accurate which I blame on my eyesight. When I was shooting the rifle I kept thinking about bi athletes and how that must be close to impossible to have your heart at like 140 beats a minute and then slow down and shoot a target.

It was a enjoyable outing. And I am sure we will do it again. Next time, though, I am going to bring and wear earplugs.

Riley RIP

Last Saturday, after a wonderful Thanksgiving filled with Oregonians, good food, good booze, and good times something terrible happened. My friends Greg and Beth and Beth's mom Patrea took Riley on a walk in the woods with Patrea's two other dogs. I stayed at the house and talked with Grandma. In the woods, the group ran into a woman with a dog and a puppy. A fight ensued and during the chaos Patrea's two dogs obeyed and were put under control. Riley did not. Now, I knew he was bad with other dogs and animals. During the month that I had owned him he was always looking for a fight when ever we came across other animals: cats, dogs, ducks, deer, etc. I thought this was so weird considering how cute he was and how good he was with people. I had even taken him to a friend's house and the kids aged 7, 5, 3 rode him around and he was totally fine.

After Patrea's dogs had been called off, Riley continued to attack. (Now all of this is a little unclear because as you all know I was at the house.) Riley had the puppy in his mouth and was killing it. Patrea tried to pull him off, the owner of the puppy was screaming and kicking Riley, and Beth went for the puppy. And then it ended. Beth had a bloody dog bitten hand and the puppy was rushed to the Vet ER.

Back at the house Patrea came in screaming about Riley, a dead puppy, and how I needed to euthanize my dog. WTF. At that moment I was shocked, sad, disappointed, confused. And then Beth came in with her bloody hand and went immediately to the hospital with Patrea.

There I was with Grandma and Greg in Dundee (a small town west of Portland.) I needed to get myself and Riley out of the house. Luckily, Greg was there with his two door sports coup. I had to make the decision of what to do with Riley. As far as I could see I had three choices.

1. Euthanize the dog.
2. Take the dog to Lakeview and have someone who owns a ranch kill the dog.
3. Give the dog to a shelter and tell them what had happened.

All three of these choices sucked for many reasons.

1. Playing god. Being the one to decide whether the dog should live. Paying for the procedure.
2. Although respectful, difficult and I had no way to get back to Lake County any time soon.
3. I think this is irresponsible. The stress this dog had given me and all parties involved was too much and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. Also, because Riley is so cute and good with people- would they believe me? Would I be blamed for the behavior?

So, after a bit of research Greg and I and Riley headed to Portland to euthanize the dog. It was miserable. It also proved impossible. Because Riley had bitten a human (Beth) he needed to be quarantined for 10 days to ensure he did not have rabies. This is a Oregon law. Now, if Riley had had rabies I would be shocked as would the doctor, the vet, and pretty much everyone involved. The two shelters we went to would not take him off our hands or kill him. I did not want to go to a vet and lie and have him euthanized.

So there we were in the industrial part of Portland after 6 hours of misery and there the dog was in the back seat looking so cute. I had made a terribly hard decision and then could not take action. So, Greg and I decided to get some pizza and beers and talked about other things. During this time we got a phone call confirming the death of the puppy. WTF.

So there I was with a killer dog in Portland on Saturday night. 7 hours from home, no car, nothing. Back to the decision making. We headed back to Dundee and realized that I had two choices: return Riley to the Klamath Falls Shelter where I got him or have a cowboy kill him. I called my boss, Ronne Lindsay, and she said I should return him to the shelter and that they would know what to do with him. I was nervous to do this because I thought the people at the shelter wouldn't believe me or the severity of the situation. As it turned out the woman I spoke to at the shelter when I returned Riley was empathetic and very responsive. She actually teared up while I was crying and telling the story. She said she was going to quarantine Riley and then possibly euthanize him. And she offered me a refund or the option of adopting another dog sometime in the next 6 months. I told her I would think about it.

The whole thing was so weird. It would make a good dark comedy. All of the feelings I had were crazy and I never even imagined a situation this insane. It was so bizarre to be with Riley for about 48 hours after I knew what was going to happen to him. It was hard to distance myself from the dog knowing that what he did was totally beyond his control. He did not mean to kill the puppy. No way. It is just so weird to know that Riley had that hidden in him. And so weird that he didn't seem crazy or dangerous in any way.

So, now I am back in Lakeview and have been since Monday. I am back to square one. No dog. No friends. And my house is cold.

RL

I was chatting with Cara Romanik during the beginning of September in Seattle and we talking about how and why Vermont just wasn't working for me. (This is much easier to write after a move to OR.) And I was going on and on about how it should work- good friends, beautiful landscape, good job (at least this past summer), close to family, connections with family... Care then said, "Erin the problem is that you are uninspired." That really hit me as truth. Not only truth but also very sad and terrible. No inspiration? What is worse then that. Not much. My life in Vermont really seemed like THIS IS IT except without a husband, kid, volvo, or golden retriever. And it was so damn lame. I can picture myself in VT in about 10 years until then I think that I have some more adventures.

Anyway, fastforward to my acceptance to RARE and move to Oregon. My supervisor/boss is this woman named RL. I had a phone interview with her while I was still in Mainer. And was struck by three things: 1. The first things she said other then hello was that she was very informal, 2. Her bottom line was helping people and demanded to know my bottom line (I don't really have one, yet), and 3. The amount that she laughed. I didn't even know her and the entire conversation was filled with laughter.

Here are some of RL's characteristics:
-she is from LA and moved to Lake County to be with a man she knew for three days and procceded to become the HR head at the biggest ranch in the county (about 150 cowboys under her)
-she listens from the heart, does projects of the heart
-she has a GED
-her make-up is tatooed on her face, a few weeks ago she had it "reapplied" in Vegas, she also told me right after that she looked like Alvira and that there was an Alvira look a like competition happening and she was thinking of entering
-she was a teenage mom
-she is pro-life

Me: Well, I think that birth is the crucial point.
RL: No, conception.
Me: So you think an egg is a chicken.
RL: A vegetarian thinks that an egg is protein.
Me: Vegetarians also think that tofu is protein.
RL: Tofu is gross.

-she does not believe in global warming
-her cell phone's ring tone is hallajullah (not the Jeff Buckley/Lenord Cohen song)

This woman is amazing to work for. She is honest, hardworking, and an absolute doer. She has a task and completes it. She laughs all the time. I am so happy to be working with her and spending a lot of time with her over the next year.

Riley

This is Riley. So cute. That is his bunny. And the other photo is on a hike this morning.
It is about 65 out and I am using the internet on my front lawn. Riley has been exploring the neighborhood, and apparently people do not think he is as cute as I do. The Lakeview police, Officer Boone to be exact just came over and reminded me of the city leash ordinance. I mean common.

The Rest of My Life

I think there are moments in a life where things are good or OK and then a decision is made and then there you are, you have started the rest of your life. Things make sense and feel right and you are off and running. For example, Sarah Erlinder, she had created a great life in Brooklyn, had really come into her own, and then she went to law school. I remember thinking, hey wait, why are you going to the mid-west? Why would you leave NYC? What? In law school she has taken off and does all of these extra circulars and is on a law review (although it is gender based, a law review non-the-less) and is killing it. And when I think of her and am always like this is the rest of you life. You are here. I was lucky enough to see her twice in the past month or so and each time I was so happy to see her as the adult and colleague she is going to be. Another example are my old housemates Nate + Lex. They bought a condo this past summer. I know these kids well and I know that they are going to get married have kids and dogs and live in VT forever. Its funny because to me they have always seemed to just be sort of delaying the inevitable. The moment they moved out of our apartment I was like, "this is the rest of your life." They have taken the first huge step in that direction, shared assests. Its also funny to think about how one day something just makes sense. Like it didn't before, not ever, and then one day, its like ok. Lets do it or try it.

Right now, for me, this is the rest of my life. I moved across america, somehow snaked my way into a sweet program (that is too perfect), am using my skills to help people, and feel connected to my work. What. How did this all happen and why did I have to travel 3,600 miles. I don't know. It is the beginning of the rest of my life. I sort of have a 3 year plan. It doesn't seem scary. Wow.

Yesterday, I adopted a five year old, golden retriever named Riley. Another, this is the rest of my life. I mean he is going to be with me for upwards of 10 years. He could be at my wedding, know my children.... Right now things are a little awkward. Today we went running. He's fat, so, I think (and hope) he's pooped. I am heading home for lunch to walk him.

This is from Thursday (in an email)

Today was one of the more embarrassing moments in my past few years. I had a succcessful meeting with Department of Human services and was given food stamps. Yes. I walked out of the place with a small, cute Oregon Trail card with money for groceries. I was psyched. I still haven't gotton my stipend and so this morning for breakfast I had almonds and an apple. (yes, Darzy, I know this is an ideal meal for you, but I had run and am at altitude...) Anyway, lunch rolled around and the plan was to head to the grocery store and use my food stamps and then go home and have lunch. Perfect. I spent about 45 min shopping. With all of the free money I decided to buy a lot of stuff like mustard, olive oil, two things of cranberry juice, peanut butter, and a lot of basics. I spend all my money and realize I cannot possibly walk home with all of my groceries. I left the building and was in the parking lot. I saw a nice lady walk out and I asked her if she could drop me off with my groceries. No, but you know you are allowed to take the cart home as long as you bring it back. Yeahright. Another lady hears us talking and says, "Really, you can take it home. I see those carts all the way on the west side of town." At that point I was forced to choose between asking another person for a ride or walking home with a grocery cart. I choose the cart. Absolutly embarrassing. That coupled with the fact that I had just used food stamps. I was pretty much poster-worthy poverty. Well, except that I was wearing danskos and jcrew. Whatever. So embarrassing. And then I brought the cart back. Terrible.

Fantastic

I really do have a place in my heart for David Brooks.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/09/opinion/09brooks.html?em&ex=1192334400&en=1dfe5eacabc50b4a&ei=5087%0A

And its not to late to go to dental school...

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/11/business/11decay.html?em&ex=1192334400&en=f0c14efae07f84f9&ei=5087%0A

1988 Finalist All-American City

On a water tower above town, 1988 Finalist All-American City, is proudly painted. I think this captures Lakeview very well. This town seems to be caught in a moment that has passed. Its crazy because everyone has cable (and cannot believe that I do not even have a TV) and the internet is cheap and there is free wireless for everywhere. I guess what I mean is that I would think that techonology = modern. Here that is not the case.

All shops are local. The exception is a Subway (which everyone tells me is the best place to eat because it's fresh and that it is OWNED by local folks) and a Safeway (grocery store.) The people that I have seen around town, at the movies, during meetings, all wear very dated clothes. And whats weirder is that everyone wears glasses that are from the 80's and 90's. And there are a lot of old american trucks in very good condition riding/cruising/tearing around town. The movie theater plays one film a week. Friday-Saturday-Sunday at 7:30pm. Its $5.00. And the popcorn and candy are reasonably priced.

Walking around town everyone smiles and waves. Running the other morning two groups of highschoolers waiting for the bus heckled me. "Hey lady its real warm out." "Where are you going so fast?" I was like, seriously, you are in high school and waiting for a bus. Common.

People are very kind and neighborly. The only furniture I have is a futon mattress on the floor and a crazy creek. This morning a woman gave me a new microwave (I mean, I don't think I will really use it but...) and have been offered a bed and a few couches and a dining room set.

The Oregon Outback a.k.a. Lake County

Alright, I am firing up this old travel blog with new posts on my latest adventure to the West Coast. Why I am here will come later but for now some stats on my new home:

-8,300 square miles
-6,800-7,500 people (depends on who you ask)
-Connecticut would fit nicely into this county
-worldclass flyfishing, hunting, ranching
-no lake that I have seen
-a large meth problem
-only one chain, Subway, which everyone suggests I eat at
-lots of good coffee
-1:23, ratio of bars to churches

I asked some folks about where running is good and was told repeatedly to watch out for cougars (not the 30+ women but the actual predator.) Ok. I asked what I can do and the reply was not run into them or bring a pistol. This afternoon I was told I should learn to shoot just in case I come across any sort of predator like a cougar or a bear. Nice.

Even though Lakeview has a population of 3,500 it somehow seems more isolated then Vinalhaven, ME. Shocking.

The best thing I have found is this place called the meat locker. It is a butcher shop with all beef and other meats from this county. They cut, cure, marinate, and smoke everything right there. It is heaven. Last night I had some smoked beef, 1.4 lbs, I got home and didn't have any silverware, just a large knife and stood in my kitchen and ate about half of it. So good. I think I am going to go on atkins.