How I Mountain

Putting the Obessive & Compulsive in OCD

I'm not sure which part of my self-diagnosed case of OCDiva I like more.  The O, or the C?  It's a toxic mix for sure, especially when it comes to magic hair tools. 

I've battled my unwieldy mane from an early age and proudly wore some of the biggest hairstyles in high school during the late '80's and early '90's.  So big, in fact, that my hair did not fit into the frame during yearbook photos.  Nope.  Part of my bangs and some fluffy side parts actually extended outside the viewfinder when the photographer gave up trying to zoom out.

My styles are far less huge now than they were back in the day, but I'm always on the lookout for the next great styling utensil that will give me soft, smooth, silky, shiny, sassy, sexy locks like I see on TV.  Oh, and if it would make me thinner too, that would be awesome.  So imagine my excitement when a Groupon for the "Instyler: As Seen on TV" showed up in my inbox.

I'd never seen this magnificent tool before!  After a quick google search, I was smitten.  Bummer though, the answer to all my hair problems was a little $pendy.  So $pendy, that the Financial Planner's daughter couldn't pull the trigger.  And that's when Obsessive kicked in.  

Thoughts about how fabulous my hair would look consumed every waking moment.  Finally, late Sunday night, I couldn't stand it anymore - so I Compulsively clicked on the Groupon and completed my order.  Ahhh... relief.  I'd finally be able to sleep.

Until the confirmation email arrived a few minutes later and I realized that this fabulous tool wasn't what I had wanted at all!  The Groupon was for the 3/4" barrel, not the large 1 1/4" barrel I needed.

Crap.  Abort!  Abort!  I quickly canceled my order, but I didn't stop thinking about the Instyler.

So I headed into Bed Bath and Beyond the next day.  Sure, I was going to spend a little more than I did with the Groupon, but at this point, I was committed.   The last Instyler in stock leapt off the shelf and into my arms, and the best part was the price was reduced by $10 at checkout!  AND they accepted my expired coupon!  What's not to love?  Finally, I was on my way to hair bliss.

Except I wasn't.   My stomach sank as I carefully unpackaged my new toy...  Oops.  I did it again.  3/4" barrel!  Apparently I overlooked that part in all my enthusiasm.  Strike 2.

Determined to make the most of it, I worked hard to convince myself I could make due with the smaller size. I even entertained the idea that I'd try to return it if if didn't work out.  But then I broke it.  Not the whole Instyler, just a tiny piece of the forehead protector which snapped off as I removed it.  I tried to super glue it back together, but that didn't work.  Double crap.  Can you even return a used hair tool with a broken forehead protector?  I dunno for sure, but I kinda doubt it. 

After three mornings with the tiny Instyler, my good friend Obsessive came back and I knew the only way off this crazy-train was to get the bigger barrel.  So back to Bed Bath Beyond I went, with another expired coupon.

New stock hadn't arrived, so the sales clerk generously offered to order it in-store and have it shipped directly to my doorstep for free!  Sweet!  So I forked over my credit card for the third time to purchase what I was certain would solve all my hair drama.  The clerk assured me that she had ordered the large barrel.  I was home free!

Except I wasn't... yet again.  As I studied my receipt in the car, three little words caught my eye: "for short hair." 

A quick call to Bed Bath and Beyond's friendly 1-800 number confirmed what I feared was true.  NO. Way!  Ruth helped me cancel the order, and told me to return to store for a refund.

Back at the store for the 2nd time in 5 hours, I explained to a different clerk what I was looking for.  She walked to the display, scanned the barcode, read that there were FIVE in stock, and a small army of Bed Bath Beyonders mobilized to find my dream hair tool in the back. 

Apparently, fourth time is the charm. 

Anyone wanna buy a gently used 3/4" barrel Instyler with a mostly working forehead guard?  I'll cut you a deal!  And your hair will look AMAZING!

Mission Impossible

Or was it?

Since parachuting off the fiscal cliff with the proud purchase of a season pass, I've been determined to maximize my investment.  In the wake of realizing I was facing a $1200 pay cut (Thanks, Uncle Sam!!), I've had a steely focus...  snowboard as many days as possible.

I justified the pass by thinking I would sneak away during lunch to take a run or two.  I never, ever expected I would actually do it.

So I coerced a colleague (coincidentally one who had more seniority than me) to join the fun.  It seemed like a good idea on many levels.  At least if I got scolded for being tardy from my lunch break I could point the finger at someone else who should have known better.  :)

I did my homework, conducting recon for several days before the actual mission.  It required buying a special dress... one that was built for snow, could double as acceptable office-wear, and would look good with my long-johns and snow boots pre- and post- adventure!  (Ok, maybe not the most responsible decision given the whole fiscal cliff thing...)  I found the secret parking lot, tested the unknown cat track back to the parking lot, and rushed myself when gearing up to train for speed. 

I. Was. Ready.

I regret not using my GPS device.  It would be sah-weet to insert a map of my actual adventure here.  I'll pencil that in for next time (Wednesday).  In the meantime, you can refer to the official resort trail map here.

11:36 - left the office parking lot

11:42 - parked at Waldorf Gondola parking lot

11:49 - geared up and loaded the Waldorf Gondola

11:55 - transferred to the Orange Bubble Express

12:07 - began descent on Echo to Flume

12:11 - loaded Super Condor Express

12:19 -  began descent on Upper Boa -> Lower Boa -> Willow Draw -> Rip Cord -> Secret Cat Track Back to Parking Lot

12:30 - Arrived at vehicle

12:35 - left Waldorf Gondola parking lot

In theory, I could have been back at the office at 12:46.  Instead, I ducked into Whole Foods to grab a healthy lunch to eat at my desk.  That detour cost me an extra 5 minutes - extending my lunch break 16 minutes in total.  But don't worry, I made up the time at the end of the work day.

Since my epic adventure, I've worked on streamlining the process.  I'll be tying my boots during the 5 minute ride in the Gondola instead of in the parking lot, saving several minutes - for sure!  Since I'm shaking the rust off my riding skills, I'll be able to shred even faster, making it down the run in 9 minutes instead of 11.  And like I initially promised, I'm going to pack a lunch to save $$$, and avoid the stop at Whole Foods.  Not to mention, the whole thing will take far less time when I'm not so worried about capturing every time stamp and photo for the purposes of a blog post.

I got this.  In 60 minutes or less.  I can already hear the James Bond theme playing in the background.

Jumping Off the Fiscal Cliff

I don't understand it, mostly because I don't try to. Politics are confusing, and so are economics... This fiscal cliff stuff, especially.

Honestly, I haven't paid much attention to it, but I do know that it sounds scary. Lucky for me, Slate broke it all down, and it looks like the good news is I'll get to pay higher taxes!  Yippee!

That's not an easy thing to swallow for anyone, but especially for a Certified Financial Planner's daughter. Dad instilled the value of money and the urgency of a retirement account at an early age.  I've had a savings account since the day I was born, and a budgeted, disciplined approach to spending is all I've ever known.

But just as confusing as all this fiscal cliff stuff, is the online push to "share your resolutions for 2013" or "pick a word for the New Year!"  Umm, wow.  Just one word? That's a lot of pressure... I teeter between thinking it's all hokey, and believing that goal-setting and resolutions have some value.  We're all looking for a little motivation to do better than we have in the past, so if a word or resolution helps us do that, so be it!

Which brings me to my "word(s) for 2013":

PLAY OUTSIDE!

I know, it sounds more like a plan for recess than an actual resolution for 2013, but to me it's so much more than that.  It's a key to my well-being.

As a workaholic, I nearly lost my mind last year in the absence of a snowboard season pass. It was my first year since moving back to Utah without one. And without a season pass, I was forced to entertain myself indoors. Which resulted to some ill-advised speed crafting, as well as using my basement as a spray-paint venue, neither one of which was a good idea. At the end of last winter, I vowed to NEVER, EVER be without a season pass again.

Until last week... With the fiscal cliff looming and season pass prices being insanely expensive, I waffled. I guess $105 day-pass tickets are just the price you pay for enjoying local access to the #4 ski resort in North America, but it's really hard to justify. And at $105 per day, I never would justify it. But I could probably justify $20 per day, in the name of some fun and my mental health!

But I need to save... Retirement...

And then I remembered how I nearly LOST MY MIND last winter. And I started a campaign to talk myself into the big purchase:

You have a friends-and-family discount... that's 50% off regular season pass price! If you only go 6 times, you'll have it paid off. Of course you'll go 6 times! The mountain is only 20 minutes away. You live here for a reason! And at 30 times, you'll enjoy it for $20/day! 30 times is easy! Go during your lunch break!

I thought about my sanity. Or lack thereof last winter. And I considered what I want to do differently in 2013. I know I am the best version of myself when I make time to play outside. I'm more productive, creative, efficient and SANE when I take even 60 minutes to breathe the fresh mountain air and get some physical activity. And there is a reason that I live here. It isn't to spray-paint bookshelves in the enclosed basement.

So today I pulled the trigger. I'm the proud owner of a 2012-2013 season pass! And with the fiscal cliff looming, I just jumped right off! Okay, maybe "jump" isn't the right word. Maybe I just ollied right over that cliff. Sure, it might mean a few sacrifices.  Dad might even approve once he realizes I won't go crazy this winter!  I'll pack PBJs to eat on the lift when I ride during lunch midweek, saving at least $10/day. And I'll have to scrub my own toilets instead of having the housekeeper come once a month.

But it'll be worth it.

Happy New Year, everyone! So what is your word for 2013?

The Ropes Course is SCARY

I consider myself an Adventure Diva.  Part adrenaline junkie, part Fearless Fool... I'll try anything.  Once.

Rocketing down tubes of ice at 75 mph in a fiberglass shell was no big deal a decade ago. So when I attended the bobsled World Cup event at Utah Olympic Park this evening and stumbled upon free tickets to the ropes course, "stoked" was an understatement for my enthusiasm.

I eagerly stepped into the harness and ratcheted down the leg straps while tightening my helmet with one hand, convincing myself that this was nothing for someone who used to go fast for a living.

"High or Low course?" the Ropes Chaperone asked as my group of coworkers approached.

"Which do you suggest?" I replied, thinking "Duh... HIGH.  Of course.  Have you met me?"

"The High course requires more upper body strength and people have wept." he answered.

When my colleagues unanimously chose the low course, I exhaled with an audible sigh. They sprinted ahead, conquering the obstacles as if they were no big deal.  Soon, they were far away, as I slowly navigated the first challenge, a wire with rope side-rails.

Complicating matters was my footwear selection.  Knowing I was headed to a winter event with snow on the ground, I opted for my furry, duck-like, too-big Sorels.  They don't fit at aaaalll.  The quarter size blisters on my achilles tendons are proof,  but they DO keep my feet warm.  Sadly, they're not exactly the ninja shoes one needs when navigating scary ropes courses.

The Rope Chaperone coaxed me through the next obstacle, a log with no side support.  Just me, a tether, and 30 feet below.  Somehow, I made it across.  And that's when the self-talk began.

"C'mon.  You got this!  Suck it up and keep going!"

Then I remembered that this was supposed to be fun.  And I realized I wasn't having any.

"Hey Guy!  I wanna get down!  Hey Guy!"

Knowing that I had more course ahead of me than what I had completed, I made a decision to retrace my steps.  None of it was any less scary on the way back.

"It's okay," Ropes Chaperone said in his best consoling tone.  "This isn't for everybody."  Clearly, he missed the memo that I am Adventure Diva.

Perplexed by what had just transpired, I took photos of my colleagues as they completed the course and made it look easy.  I stood on the platform half-heartedly, wondering when I lost my mojo.  I'm not sure what's changed, but I do know that the ropes course is super duper SCARY!

I had far more fun on the zip line and the free fall jump from 60 feet.  I guess the lesson learned is that if I'm gonna get freaked out, it needs to happen in high speed!

Caine's Arcade & The Button Diva

Did you see the video about the nine year old boy from LA who spent his summer building a cardboard arcade in his Dad's auto parts store?

Neither did I.  But apparently three million people did when it went viral last April.

I saw it for the first time last week at evo conference.  And I've watched it every day since.  If you haven't seen it yet, it's well worth the eleven minutes.  I know... that's a long video, but I promise, you'll be glad you watched.

 

 

Besides this kid's amazing imagination and creative spirit, one of the things that struck me most about this story right off the bat was his supportive father.  That, and the lesson about what can happen when everyone uses their personal super-hero powers for good...

Caine's Dad didn't scoff at the cardboard arcade.  Instead, he fostered it by encouraging Caine to build the games he wanted.  He helped him buy calculators to "verify" the authenticity of the Fun Pass.  And he never ever said, "Stop wasting all that cardboard and packing tape!"

I guess I appreciated it because I see a lot of myself in Caine.  And my own parents are just like his father.  They're always game to support my latest entrepreneurial flavor-of-the-month project, whether it's a tedious video-to-DVD business, necklaces made from hardware purchased at Home Depot, or this summer... buttons.  Dozens and dozens of buttons.

Button barrettes.  Button hair pins.  Button wine stoppers.  Button bookmarks.  Button earrings.  Button magnets.  And my very favorite...  button bracelets.

And of course, in the OCDiva tradition we've grown to love and appreciate, I couldn't just make one.  I had to make a bazillion of everything.

When I told my Mom I was going to take my buttons to the local Farmer's Market to turn my inventory into profits, she didn't snicker or stifle a laugh.  She was gung-ho to help!

So when we met for lunch today, with my market debut less than two weeks away, Dad loaded a table, a selection of pretty tablecloths, and the perfect pink camping chair into my  FJ.  Seriously, who has a pink chair?!!  The Button Diva does...

I'm not expecting a starving filmmaker to show up and make a video about my buttons, but it sure would be awesome if he did.  To be honest, if I can sell enough buttons to get my $20 Farmer's Market fee back, I'll be happy. 

But even if I don't sell a thing, at least I'll have the prettiest chair and table at the market.

(If you can't make it to the market, but can't wait to buy some buttons, stay tuned!  I'm working on a Facebook store!  Or you could email me.  That would work too. Jen at howimountain dot me)

 

Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere. – Albert Einstein

Happy Houseversary!

It was five years ago today when I first laid eyes on this castle.  I remember being astonished I could actually find a real estate agent who would work on a holiday.

The first thing I did when I pulled up to the curb was mentally hang flowering baskets around the patio.  The second thing... decorate for Christmas.  It didn't matter that the only resemblance of a "yard" was knee high weeds and dirt.  I had a vision.

I left the property and drove directly to Pizza Hut.  With the Agent.  To make an offer. 

Isn't that what most people do?!  No need to sleep on it.  Or tour 100 more homes.  Let's just cut to the chase...  When you're home, you know it!  Never mind the fact that the train chugged by every 20 minutes.  The neighbors eased my fears, reassuring me that Thomas was a once-a-year event.

When I got back to the valley that afternoon, with my future delicately hanging in the balance, I went directly to the local nursery and purchased 8 hanging flower baskets. I had a good feeling and wanted to be prepared.  I nursed them along for the next 7 weeks until it was time to take their place on the Best. Patio. Ever.

Bummer, though.  They didn't like the altitude.  Instead of the cascading bouquets I had envisioned... they just looked sick.  I chalked it up to the move, and vowed I would do better next summer.

So the next year, I planted my own baskets in late May.  Sadly, they failed to thrive.  My neighbors, however, did pick up on a good idea.  They purchased beautiful, full, flowering baskets from the local nursery, making mine look even more pathetic.  Funny... there were not any baskets in the neighborhood before I arrived.  But... whatever.  We're all friends here.

So finally, I got wise.  The third year, I took my baskets to the nursery in early April.  "Look, these are kind of a big deal.  We may or may not have a little neighborhood competition going on,"  I told the nursery owner.  So what if  I was the only one playing this patio flower game...

That Memorial Day I picked up THE most beautiful hanging flower baskets.  They blew my mind.  Cascading vines that flowered all summer. 

"Your flowers bring joy to the whole neighborhood!" one woman exclaimed on her evening walk.

"Oh geez!  I don't need that kind of pressure," I told her.

I took my baskets back again last year  They were nice, but not epic.  So this year, I thought I'd do it myself.  After all, I'm  DIY kind of girl.  And I had SO much luck with the flowers I grew in my laundry room last year.  Why wouldn't I grow own baskets in my laundry room?!

Because it's HARD!  That's why.

These little plants spouted in mid-March.  They were transplanted to their baskets in mid-April.  And today was their scheduled debut.  Only they missed the memo.

I know they're doing the best they can.  But they're supposed to be blossoming by now!  That's what the neighbor's  from the nursery are doing. 

Don't they understand we have a reputation to uphold?!  Don't they know we're responsible for the whole neighborhood's JOY!

Good thing the iris are holding down the fort.

Speed Crafting 101

The absence of a ski pass this winter has forced me to get creative indoors.  It's a lot harder than you'd think.  And it's convinced me to never, EVER do it again. 

Be without a season pass, that is.  I imagine I'll forever continue my quest to bedazzle my home on a teeny tiny budget.

Santa brought me a sewing machine, which required a makeover of my guest room, but that's a post for another day.  Artists need a studio, and seamstresses need a place for their stash.  Enough said.

What I didn't anticipate as part of this makeover process, was a phenomenon widely known as speed crafting, wherein one creates cute things in a hurry without allowing enough time between steps - to the detriment of the project.  In all actuality, speed crafting ends up taking longer than regular crafting.  Fixing mistakes is time consuming!

I don't know why I'm in such a rush.  If there's one thing I have lots of, it's time.  There's no real reason to hustle...  Yet, I do.  Maybe it's because I'm all fast twitch muscle fiber, sprinting through life from an early age.  I can't really justify it.  I just know it's a bad habit.

These little canvases are my latest attempt at bedazzling for the greater good.  They weren't simple, but they should have been.  During one frustrating point in the process I thought to myself, "Gee, if I only had a tutorial from Pinterest, this would be so much easier!"

So, without further ado, I'll detail the steps to making these fancy, fun, colorful canvases - in hopes that you'll spell something for your own guest-turned-sewing room.  You can thank me later.

1. Peruse Pinterest endlessly, looking for inspiration.  Pin at least one dozen things... only to decide none of them are right for your room.
2. Shop at Walmart for home essentials (i.e. toilet paper) and make an impulse buy of 4 bargain artists' canvases, having no idea what you're going to do with them.  Accept the fact that you're probably just going to ruin them - so spending more money for quality canvases just isn't worth it.
3. Speed paint them to match your accent wall.  Don't allow enough time for the paint to dry between to coats.  Try some sort of fingernail polish remover concoction to resolve the issues.
4. Wander around Michael's craft store during your lunch break, searching for the best way to apply your word.  Is it stencils?  Transfer paper? Acrylic paint?  NO!  Those all require too much time and effort. Grab some prefab wooden letters and a can of spray paint and get back to the office ASAP.
5. Spray paint the letters in your enclosed basement, never mind inhaling the paint particulates in an unventilated environment.  Again, don't allow enough time for the paint to dry before coats.
6. Prepare to affix the letters to the canvas.  Realize that in your haste,  some of the edges of the letters remain unpainted.  Open the lid to the dumpster in the garage and spray paint the bleak edges over the center.  Don't mess up the garage by letting spray paint waft anywhere else, especially on the FJ Cruiser.
7. Plug in the hot glue gun.  Burn your fingers while gluing EACH letter to the shiny, slippery canvas.  Realize after 3 letters, that the hot glue will not meld the two together, something that should have been apparent after only 1 letter.
8. Lift the letters off the canvas.  Decide leftover Epoxy 6000, previously used for washer necklaces is the way to go.  Yes!
9. Proudly prop canvases on top of bookshelf, below where they will hang on the wall before going to bed.
10. Wake the next morning to appreciate your hard work, only to discover the letters have slid down the canvas and have fallen on the floor.  Drop some F-bombs.
11. Retrieve Gorilla Glue from tool box. Attempt to adhere the letters for the third time, keeping in mind that Gorilla glue dries to a puffy, aerated, orange blob when visible.  Wipe excess glue from canvas with sweatshirt sleeve.
12. Drink vodka.
13. Use a steak knife to surgically remove the dried  orange puffs of glue from the canvas where it oozed from the edge of the letter.  Be careful not to puncture canvas with the knife.
14. Raid your makeup kit for Q-Tips.  Daub in paint to repair scratches and damage on the letters and canvas.
15. Take a deep breath, you're almost there.
16. Return to Walmart to purchase tiny eyehooks and ribbon.  Buy a printer while you're there.
17. Meticulously measure 1 inch from each top edge of the canvas.  Mark with a pencil.  Screw in the tiny eyehook and continue to twist until you realize it's not biting.  Swear.  Call Mom to complain. 
18. Arbitrarily move eybolt an unknown distance toward center until it's secure.
19. Thread ribbon through eyebolts of all 3 canvases and tie in pretty bows.  Lay out on the floor to admire your work. 
20. Realize the eyebolts of one letter are on the bottom, not the top of the canvas.  Curse.  Call Mom in disbelief.
21. Repair paint again, in an attempt to cover abandoned eyebolt holes.  Rethread ribbon.
22. Use hot glue gun, again... (it works this time, I promise) to accessorize canvas and letters.  Buttons or Swarovski crystals are good choices.

Last:  HURRY!!  HANG ON WALL BEFORE SOMETHING ELSE GOES WRONG!    

There.  Cute bedazzled canvases in 23 easy steps.  You, too, can speed-craft!!  Leave a comment with any questions.

#Febphotoaday: Where I Work

There are worse places, I suppose, than a 3rd floor corner office in Park City, directly above SkullCandy headquarters, and across the parking lot from Rossignol.

If you look closely, you can make out the steep ramps of the Olympic ski jumps in the far right edge of that photo at Utah Olympic Park.  Just out of view is the 2002 Olympic museum, and behind that, the bobsled track where I used to rocket down tubes of ice for a living.

The mountains tucked under those clouds are home to my favorite winter playground.  Admittedly, Canyons Resort resort needs a little more snow this season, but we're making due with what we've got.  And if we don't get any more, it just means mountain bike season can start that much earlier.  Not a bad option either.

Yeah, there are worse places to work, I suppose. 

#FEBphotoaday: A Favorite Picture of Me

I know.  You thought I did it again... started something and didn't finish.  But I didn't!  I really didn't.  Life gets kinda crazy.  Work gets a little hectic.  New sewing rooms need makeovers.  Naps need to be taken... hey, what can I say?!  I just took a little break.  That's ok.  Sometimes you feel creative, sometimes you don't. 

But I've found time to post for the #FEBphotoaday challenge today...  a favorite picture of myself. 

This picture makes me smile.  It was taken at one of my favorite places in the world while I was playing hookie from work.  Some of the greatest snow on Earth was falling from the sky.   A delicious bacon cheeseburger sat on the picnic table in front of me, with a beer nearby to wash it down.

Days don't get much better than that.

 

** See more #FEBphotoaday posts at Fat Mum Slim.

#FEBphotoaday: front door

 

 

home IS where the heart is 

 

As an adult, I never had roots before.  Then I moved here.