gay breakfast

after attempting to have gay breakfast (without gay coffee), wer-town and i went on a romantic river hike and then celebrated the 4th of july early in my backyard







and later that night we met some sisters while playing pool and shuffleboard and i got to watch werwie use one of his classic pickup lines (which i still dont think has ever been sucessful)

christmas '08

thanks to a PDX snowstorm and two MacBooks...we got a virtual family christmas photo


and then we went sledding (be sure to turn up volume)

coloring is fun

my friend kaylee and i bought 97 cent coloring books and held coloring book races. although i won it turns out my interpretation of the rules were much looser and thus my pic wasn't nearly as colorful, complicated, or shall we say..."within the lines"

turns out color book races are stressful while ol' fashion coloring is good clean fun, for hours, as long as its accompanied by fall edition high life or a cheap cab sauv.

happy birthday mom

i was staring at my gas gauge the other day realizing it holds an extremely strong correlation with the overall health of my finances. i can't remember the last time it hit a quarter tank.

i spent an entire evening shuttling around drunk new englanders while rallying my truck on slippery snowy roads at 3am, chuckling, nursing a sprained ACL (my toms have no traction) and wondering why people spend so much money at bars. (prefunk?)

i watched a roomful of jamokes dance in my basement, while throwing out a barrage of requests...and they thanked me with an extreme case of dance floor ADD as i shuffled between daft punk/jay-z/mia/lcd soundsystem/the rapture/talking heads/beastie boys...with relatively little success

i stood proud as my sister and a select group of friends and roommates led the charge, and wouldn't let the energy die no matter what. and we laughed and mocked and screamed as people creamed themselves during paper planes. watching my roommates (also brothers) grind and freak was a little disconcerting.

i saw the temperature rise to 1 degree at 2pm, the official high for the day, and burrowed down in my polar bear puffy as jo and i hauled couches, shoes, dead peace lilies and peppermint schnapps up a snowy fight of stairs as the wind chill fell to 15 below zero.

i wished my mom a happy 50th birthday as she belted out her own rendition of the "tigger" song, and wondered how it would feel to be 25 or to have children, or to have a full time job, or to have responsibility, or to have blonde hair or to attend jazzercise.

i think i may take up jazzercise

the first day of the rest of my life...right

i was in the white xmas section...jo did tights



i took it way too seriously...as you can see

montania!

finally something worth reporting

two roommates, a twin brother and i headed up into the seeley-swan wilderness with my ford ranger, an axe, 3 Milwaukee beasts, a broken hacksaw, two hatchets, beech nut chew, peanut butter and honey sandwiches, 6 scones, and the greatest of intentions. we expected to encounter western MT at its finest...and we were not disappointed.

after navigating our way though a maze of MT back roads, we arrived. a bumpy and viciously narrow road greeted my ranger and i as we entered the property of some jamoke who had given us permission to commandeer his firewood. we arrived expecting to spend countless hours chopping/sawing/hatchet-ing firewood and then loading it into my truck.

11 minutes later we finished and my truck shocks were maxed.

our next move was obvious. jeff and i went into town on a beer run and steve/elliot spent the next half an hour looking for a tree we could chop down. montanaia! upon returning with our high life we realized that all present trees were somewhat to mostly alive and our roomate/dendrologist/texan roommate would not allow us to cut anything down.

so we improvised and an obstacle course was created. 4 sticks were chosen. short sticks starts. as luck would have it...i began. i can't remember the last time i was so nervous.

round 1: chug a beer (no shotgunning allowed...much to my dismay)
round 2: ashen pit cross (any fall required a re-start on said log)

round 3: 12 foot log clean

round 4: log-carry up hill, around chosen tree, and back to start

round 5: 12 ft. tree climb
round 6: dive under log surrounded by plants thought to be poison ivy

round 7: 500 meter run (dry heaving included for all members)
round 8: dive under log surrounded by plants thought to be poison ivy
round 9: log chop



final results
steve 5:01
ethan 4:49
elliot 4:19
jeff 3:43

round 10: shot put sawed log...three throws
finals results
4th-elliot
3rd-steve
2nd-jeff
1st-ethan (i have no idea how i won this)

definitely one of the greatest days of my MT career...more pics to follow. git some.

you ever get so broke it just becomes funny?

not for your mother or your rich aunt...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GKOqdr0-e8

5 days

fri: too long ago to remember

sat: costume ulti tourny (with 4 kegs donated by Big Sky Brewery) also with a free b'fast of mimosas/bacon/sausage/pancakes fried in bacon grease (which i vomited up just before i pulled the disc to start our first game) followed by a dance party DJ'd through Pandora. holy garbage people, this is suicidal and i've seen it happen twice in the last 3 weeks

sun: road trip to neighboring podunk town outside of missoula to visit a run down/historic book store boasting 150,000+ used books. see pic.

mon: 13 hrs of work followed by a night that didnt end till 4 am

tues: 4 hrs of disc golf with a dog i've been stealing followed by a Hot'n'Ready (aka Gut Bomb) and turkish coffee. god i love turkish coffee. god i hate capital letters.

right now: new roommate. young/overly polite/new england native/beer and coffee and disc golf amateur. i wonder if he even knows that new england is not a place, but an idea...kids these days.

i almost cried...almost

tuesday morning i drug my tired and unshowered body out of bed at 6:45am...the earliest i have risen in perhaps the last few years for an activity outside of work/ultimate/skiing. i dressed in long underwear and 4 layers of pata-gucci, ready to brave the cold and hour+ long lines. i arrived at the courthouse, bleary eyed, coffee americano in hand, ready to blacken a few ovals. the most important ovals of my entire life.

and then i voted

i left the missoula county courthouse filled with a pride i have never experienced, and found myself feeling that same pride 12 hours later as i was surrounded by hundreds of other missoulians...cheering, crying, screaming, pounding pints of PBR. and before i knew it, i was choking back tears. tears that i didnt know existed but had been waiting to come out for a long time.

i never knew how good it would feel to be proud of america. but as i watched crowds in the EU going bonkers, and villages in Africa crowding around a solitary television set and cheering for our new commander in chief, i was proud. its scary it took 23+ years for this feeling to set it but i dont plan on letting it go anytime soon.

holy awkward turtle

i went out last night for halloween part 2...big mistake. after attempting to rescue the lamest dance party i've ever witnessed by DJing with YouTube (which is nearly impossible), i headed downtown with a high school friend i hadn't seen in 6 years (who is facebook stalking me) and two girls i barely knew.

we arrived at a tragically hip bar only to realize that of the 150+ packed in the bar...nobody was dressed up. given the situation, i taught the three girls awkward turtle, then set out to ease some awkwardness. i would randomly approach hipsters and compliment them on their wonderful costume, then guess who they were dressed up as ie. Kevin Bacon/Mel Gibson etc, compliment them one more time before returning to the girls and a glass of whiskey (on the rocks).

what i learned...
-there are actually people in the world that don't get excited when dancing to annie, or bizmarkie, or hot chip
-laughter is the best medicine but whiskey tastes better

i am living out of context

we have nothing to lose

recent blips from a recent convo + other thoughts...(a rant of sorts)

im tired of squeaking by and selling my weekend for $150. my heart isnt throbbing knowing that i provide better coffee and quality food/beer.

people always say that if its too good to be true, it probably is. i intend to prove this wrong, or go broke trying. but i've been broke so long i wouldn't even know when i arrived at this proverbial "state of poverty".

we have nothing to lose

i'll drop everything to commit. 4 months of labor. 8 months of freedom. why not.
imagine what a 6 pack of high life would taste like after a week like that. i can't! well then, lets find out.

in the words of king Salomon, all is vanity, but it sure would be nice to pay off a lil debt, buy my sibs some nice gear and then buy myself a one way tix to patagonia.

it can happen. idealistic thoughts no longer dwell in idealism when they become concrete. when they become a reality.

dont write it off. dont write me off.

a recap

and thus ends a week filled with:

-47 hours of work between 3 jobs
-working at a cabin in the mountains and watching my boss kill half a 12 pack of MGD as we drove home while his wife, mother-in-law, and 7 week baby rode peacefully in the backseat
-helping my boss kill the other half
-biking to work at 6:45am in sub 30 degree temperatures
-pitchers and peanuts and the world series
-TGR movie (somewhat disappointing) and the surprise of seeing my high school buddy's 2 minute clip in the movie alongside sage, seth morrison and others
-then running into said buddy along with 5 other high school kids i haven't seen for 5 years and haven't missed and suffering through awkward small talk
-creating a theory at the coffee shop that height has a direct correlation on age and blood relatives
-collecting dunnies with my boss...don't hate until you know
http://www.kidrobot.com/products2.cfm?ID=6891&cfid=9846573&cftoken=50819879&nav_chooser=
-eating venison every third meal
-donating a beer to a 30 year old dude having marriage problems that is sleeping on our couch...holy awkward turtle

drinking alone

a recent conversation i had after finishing a shift at shadow's keep (and after finishing a knob creek on the rocks):

barkeep: how was it?
me: delicious
barkeep: whats next?
me: no idea, pondering that as we speak
barkeep: how bout a carbomb? (good bartender i might add)
me: ha! i was actually just thinking the same thing
barkeep: well why not
me: well i've never done one alone, i feel i'm not quite ready to do carbombs alone in public drinking houses
co-worker: i do them all the time! no shame in it!
pause
pause
me: well buddy, heres to ya (as we share a car bomb)

how precious

the last best place

outside of working 2 and possibly 3 jobs, riding my bike absurd distances just to save $2 in gas and frequenting the local library and gears shops, I've been volunteering.

the PEAS farm is a community farm located a half mile from my house on the rattlesnake creek and supported almost entirely by volunteer help. four hours of work will earn you ten pounds of food which make a lot of sense economically for me (as my time is valued by nobody but me). i've helped harvest winter squash, pumpkins, tomatoes and peppers. my buddy rick is the caretaker at the farm and lives just past 400 pounds of drying onions on the second floor of the farmhouse. im envious and secretly planning to buy property in MT and begin a small subsistence farming operation with a friend while working part time to make ends meet.

ten spoon vineyard grows, harvest, mashes and bottles their own organic grapes and produces 4-6 varieties of wine per year. the vineyard is a mile or so up rattlesnake drive from my house. i spent a few days last week harvesting two different varieties of grapes with other missoulians in temperatures of 32-40 degree F. we also received snow flurries. only in MT can you harvest grapes while getting snowed on. i love it. we received an amazing meal each day consisting of a combination of stew, cornbread, chili, lasagna, salad, orzo, a Big Sky Brewery Keg and 10-15 bottles of wine. the vineyard owner gave me a bottle of their Range Rider Red for volunteering multiple days and offered to hire me during bottling next month.

missoula like most towns has its far share of jamokes but i've also met a handful of rad/absurd people including wisconsin joe who would polish of almost an entire bottle of vineyard wine during our lunches, a 23 year old trail crew worker/student who lives up the rattlesnake while keeping bees and brewing mead, hippy james who brewed fresh ginger tea for my fellow grape pickers and kept trying to sneak more and more rum into the tea, and lindsey from maine who has worked/guided a large portion of the AT.

as i told jcd the other day, i think MT may be just the place for me.

...

life moves slower when you are broke

i soak beans overnight and let them simmer for hours instead of opening a can.
i sip my pitcher of Cold Smoke from the Kettlehouse Brewery slowly knowing i can't afford another.
i prepare quinoa or spinach salads and black bean hummus with homemade bread for lunch instead of spending $6 on a burrito.
i ride 6 or 13 miles round trip to work not because i want to save the whales but because its either gas or tortillas and couscous.
i spend more time doing laundry as my uphill bike ride to work creates interesting odors.

and what is the result? a closer connection to the food i eat. a closer connection to the city i live in as i commute like an ant scurrying through a family picnic.

simplicity

the keep

i've completed my training at Shadow's Keep, a well respected and distinguished restaurant in south missoula on the highlands golf course boasting a gorgeous view of the city from the south hills. but lets be honest...its a shitshow.

there is no formal uniform. i often wear capris, crocs, and some absurd hat (along with my chef coat and apron). we listen to music at blaringly loud volumes. a steady diet of nofx, against me, mc chris and other punk rock has hardened me. its very normal to scream out an order to the dishwasher...if you dont yell, he won't hear you.  the menu is simple, we prep very little and i've already been promoted from salad/app land to the line as a "chef".

and somehow despite all of this, we pump out huge volumes of food at prices upwards of $50 per plate...and people can't get enough of it. i've become convinced that most people, if put in a fancy setting with fancy lighting surrounded by cute servers in fancy outfits and served food that is $30 per plate with fancy names like duck confit or beef satee, will leave happy and satisfied and will excitedly tell their friends about their beautiful dining experience at Shadows Keep. 

so for now, i'm content to benefit from these people's stupidity as they leave enormous tips and return time and time again. and if it becomes too much, i always have the house bar that graciously offers a 50% discount to all employees so we can drink away our tips.

jamoke-tastical fun

last night i was submerged into the fixed gear hipster counter culture of Missoula. free cycles is Missoula's version of the Hub (in Bellingham), but they throw a much better party. the shop has high ceilings littered with random bikes and forlorn rims, the wood floors are in good shape besides grease stains, and the place is generally in good order. 

after hosting the 1st annual alley cat messenger bike race yesterday, the United Cyclists of MT regrouped at Free Cycles with a free keg of Big Sky slow elk in tow. after taping the keg at 8pm, we pulled out radical and mix&match bikes to engage in some ol' fashioned combat. 

after mounting our mini-bikes similar to that of the ZooBombers of Portland, we began our jousting matches. my roommate and i entered the first two bouts and we were handily beaten. i managed to throw my opponent off his bike in the first round, but i was sent flying into a pile of broken bikes in the second round and left with a bleeding ankle after the third round. 

the bikes were cleared and wrenches, broken bikes and buckets emerged. everyone gathered in a circle as one fixie hipster began to beat box, others started wailing on the bikes with the wrenches in a chaotic beat...and we began a flow sesh. just a bunch of 20-ish year old white dudes wearing capris, hipster bike t-shirts and bike hats attempting to flow. it was pitiful and glorious. im just glad slater wasnt there.

all in all it was a glorious night. i met a 70 year old dude at free cycles from Guatemala that turned out to be a huge perve, a gorgeous 19 year old from Alaska (who is Palin's third cousin twice removed and can field dress a moose), and finished my night off at the Rhino playing shuffle board against a 30 year old law student from upstate new york. le cougar.

if i only would have got the number of the 19 year old

chemicals chemicals, i need chemicals

week two of missoula: work, chemicals and cous cous

i've deemed myself ready to return to the world of chemicals. not in a George Hayduke way but a re-entry has occurred nevertheless. after 6 completely sober weeks i drank a ceremonious High Life with mike davies, katrina and trish while playing a shirtless beer point signaling the end of our sectionals ultimate tournament. actually, i was the only one shirtless.

i started training at City Brew as a barista yesterday. the managers are 31 year old males and the baristas are 20 year old-ish college students. mostly all girls. i was also hired at a swanky bistro on a golf course called Shadow's Keep. the menu is small, mostly Mediterranean, and pretty straight forward. i start tomorrow.

im running low on money so my life is filled with cous cous, carrots and burnt pastries with coffee from City Brew. my roommate and i are brewing a 5 gallon batch of IPA and im dehydrating fruit, black beans and quinoa. this is life for now.

hi...are you 19 or 27? thanks

so i cruised by U of M pickup tonight and saw 55 of missoula's finest ultimate players displaying their athletic prowess. i picked up with a team called the TH seagulls. now that's original. the standard uniform consisted of homemade capris, awkward dreadlocks, bare feet and tie dye, or a conglomeration of all of the above. luckily nobody was hurt. its always fun hanging out in a college scene and realizing that some of the girls recently turned 18 and others are 26 year old grad students. its amazing how blurred the line is becoming. back me up jcd.

and then there is the job hunt...
5, 10, 19, 50? how many blasted garbage restaurants, gear shops, grocery stores, bike shops, and sandwich and pizza joints do i have to apply to before someone throws some money at me.

right now i'm at 19 and recently heard another college educated girl reached 37 before she landed a lucrative job at....johnny carino's. i can just imagine it.

"hi, im ethan and i'll be your server today! (insert fake smile and gelled hair) Can I get you started with some drinks? Great! I could use a drink too! Im gonna run back into the utility closet and shotgun a 8% tilt and I'll be right back ok? Great, thanks!

also, i've come to the sad realization that 3 out of my 4 roommates are jamokes. undoubtedly. im going to do some careful observation throughout the next week and then i'll provide case by case profiles. hopefully with pics. Lord help us all.

ps. lomen, did you forget you have a blog? with all of my unemployed time floating around i need some new reading material. get some!

thrill of the hunt

life in missoula has begun. breakfast of mate and life. i spend my mornings sending my resume to every guiding company that i can lay my hands on while listening to daft punk at a blistering volume. then lunch with jo. next a few hours pounding the pavement attempting to convince local employers i'm a legetimate human being and since i am a legitimate human being, they should pay me. i feel like i should be able to 'challenge' a current employee to a showdown and after i run circles around them, i earn their position. apparently it doesnt work that way in missoula. evenings of brown rice and potatoes, more mate, john steinbeck, bon iver and an episode of House...my new favorite show.

i'm moving into a house on the rattlesnake river, about a 10 min bike ride north of downtown missoula. its quiet, in the foothills, near the river and my roomates are rad. i hope. the owner of the house is el capitan of the missoula triathalon club and works for Adventure Cycles as a tour and logistics coordinator. perhaps my dream job. it seems he spends more time riding than working. turns out that everyone in the house and most the neighborhood runs ultras, bikes and hates tv. mostly. i move in sunday. stay tuned for individual profiles on roomates. there is bound to be at least one jamoke in the house. maybe its me.

the perfect job...and my road to Missoula

Some obvious facts:
I am a white male, grew up in a 2 parent home in white-christian-upper middle class suberbia, enjoy a stable family life, am proud owner of a college degree and truck of which I contributed nothing towards (monetarily) and have been given every advantage I could ask for.

So my life seems to go something like this (in a very crud and simplified model):
birth
childhood
school
college
job
adulthood?
family
retirement
death

So what happens when you arrive to the job part, and you receive an offer from a company that ties together your skills, passions and interests perfectly. They want to pay you a healthy salary, benefits, 10 weeks vacation, free personal travel home for Christmas, a 30 hr work week, a moving package complete with food vouchers, hotels and a resort condo, and finally commit to a long term endeavor. A commitment that can be summed up by a word I have come to fear.

lifer

They want me to put me on this road...the lifer road.

Its interesting what your 'dream job' looks like which you are in college, and then how much of a nightmare is can be when faced with all the realities it actually entails. For now, I am still a student of the Henry H. Lightcap theory. He said (loosely),

"Thoreau once said a man can live an entire year off 6 weeks hard work, but Thoreau didn't have to deal with the bills and garbage I am facing, so I intend to live off of 6 months hard work."

I'd rather work 8 months and life simply the other 4 months while traveling, hiking, touring and exploring than work 50 weeks a year and live comfortably with a plush savings account and 401k. I understand that at some point my responsibilities will catch up to me and force me to work more, but until then I fully intend to work hard, save, and then experience every bit of nature possible.

So I said no. No thanks. Maybe next year. Maybe.

Stupid? Maybe. Will I look back in 10 yrs, 20 yrs, or 30yrs and regret this decision or will I be looking back, smiling, and cherishing the months I was able to travel, spend time in Missoula with my sis (probably my new home for the next year) and family/friends elsewhere, and experience people and places I've never imagined.

I think the answer is obvious.