Yep. I'm such a homebody that instead of looking forward to the next adventure, like WWOOFing in Hawaii or road tripping to Mexico, I'm already dropping roots. Applying to work at Heavenly, hoping my fun and charming officemate will let me live with her in South Lake for the winter, and, most importantly: accepting a job as a three-season evening manager at Stanford Sierra. It's not for sure but I can't think of anything I'd rather do than stay here for at least another year. In the brief in-between of November I'm seriously considering a trip to Moab, and anyone that wants to join me is welcome.
In the meantime I'm working on being more spontaneous. With the aid of one Mr. Ennis I spent the last year practicing the transformative art of saying yes. That doesn't sound like a big deal but it's served me well here, in fighting the entropic forces of my antisocial nature. When unusual opportunities present themselves, my first instinct is to say no, but saying yes often leads to great times. A couple days ago my suitemate suggested an impromptu camping trip to some hot springs hours south of us, and instead of offering up some lame and trivial excuse I decided to join the gang. There is something so Californian about chilling au naturel in hot springs under the full moon, drinking Sauvignon Blanc in the middle of nowhere. I felt like I was finally living up to my mother's hippie legacy.
|Buckeye hot springs|
Pics courtesy of Viv (at least I'm stealing from friends
instead of strangers now)
|Sunrise over our campsite|
|The treehouse, for no other reason than I like it|
Pic courtesy of Elena