I was born in January. I was told that when my mother was having contractions in the dead of winter, it was during a heavy snowfall and my father had to shovel the driveway before he could drive her to the hospital. I thrive in the winter.
I am the impostor “winter baby” who picked Southern California to settle down in. Because there is no such thing as “winter” here. The seasons here are “dry” and “drier,” with the most drastic temperature changes occurring between dawn and dusk in the exact same day – what with no humidity in this desert to keep warmth around.
Save for the fact that maybe I just got comfortable with this city after my stint in higher education, I love the fact that I can drive to the snow and then leave it. But I do. At least two weekends per winter month. When I leave Mammoth, I leave the worst forms of snow behind so that they do not exist in my day-to-day life – the slush, the ice and all the road salt they require. Mild temperatures, which means that people wear flip-flops all year round (or Uggs at all) – two of my top fashion pet peeves – are of consequence. Pretending to commiserate with other Angelenos who complain about temps “dipping” into the 60s are another. And that’s okay.
So this most recent winter I have been finding myself busier than I’ve probably ever been. At times I have even found myself missing home, but at the same time I wouldn’t have it any other way. It means things are happening all around me and I’m honored to be able to be a part. Sometimes I find myself missing LA. Home – along with my usual spots with the usual people – will have to wait. It’s worth the wait. I will have to risk that they won’t be the same when I get back.
I probably won’t be the same, either. That’s really part of the beauty.
Everything happens in the winter. Snowboarding. New Year’s. My birthday. Snowboarding. Some of the same and some of the new – like performing pirate music with a band on the violin. To me, though, it is all new. Like having new and very special people in my life, or evolved friendships with the established special people in my life. Being able to pump higher in the halfpipe at Mammoth. No room to breathe sit around yet the energy keeps coming because they are all things I love to do. Isn’t that the point? To always do something you love? Although I miss home, I can’t take for granted that I feel recharged because of the things I get to fill my calendar with.
It is mid-January and I have made four Mammoth trips this season thus far. Leaving for Salt Lake City, Utah on Thursday and in February I will visit Whistler Blackcomb, Canada. Sprinkled in between are shows. My birthday. A trip to New York. And always visiting and supporting friends whenever I can – sometimes while doing exactly what I love.
Oh right – and blogging too.
See you on the other side.