"What are we gonna do tomorrow?"

Suite views eh....Too crust to partake so I must dream on......

I'm not quite sure where this whole dreamscape came from but I imagine this place had a lot to do with it.

Thumbs up! 12 down none to go! Love you guys!

If you were in my shoes right now, or more like in my bed right now you would see off to the right a giant picture window opening up to the the light of a beautiful snow encased High Sierra powder day at Squaw Valley. More importantly you would notice that just a few paces out the front doors of the building there is a ski lift gladly taking lucky souls up the mountain, filling people's stoke and granting yearning powder hounds with heaps of fluffy white goodness. For these happy folks this is a bursting bloom of pristine conditions just a few weeks shy of the end of what most around here live and breath for....WINTER. I unfortunately on the other hand get to watch this stoke go down from the safety and crustitude of my deluxe glass encasement which overlooks all of Squaw's peaks and glowing white bowls. This surreal outdoor white wonderment engulfs me as I stare out in awe while my imagination unravels. I soon depart from my body as I rise from my bed like some sort of old Disney or Scooby Doo ghost in a faint white night gown and hover out to the lift. All spooky and slyly glowing with a tinge afterlife blue-grey, I get on the lift as people stare at me uncomfortably with unease, some even aim their poles at me as a form of jabbing self defense or deterrent. I'm given lots of space as they must believe I'm a zombie and at any moment I may leap at them for a jugular bite or to steal one of their children. I'm most definitely misinterpreted as I am only looking for what the rest of these mortal looking peoples are looking for. Some soul swelling, spirit lifting, mysterious mountain stoke; tree lines, narrow little chute jammers, and maybe even a natural formation or two that could give way to some aerial endeavors. Calmly sitting on the lift, I am overwhelmed with the beauty and the complex innocence that surrounds me as I gaze out across the valley at the opposing peaks. Unsure of myself, I struggle to spark a conversation with the two middle aged ski people whom have distanced themselves from me as much as possible, making the six chair totally off balance as I am nearly hitting the lift poles and sitting about two feet higher up on my side of the chair. It is not until this point that I start to wonder why or what the reason is that everyone around me finds me to be such a frighteningly odd inconvenience, and why it is that I am being shunned like some sort of zombie? I look down at my feet where I was under the impression that my snow rider was strapped, but there is nothing there, heck, I'm not even wearing boots. My skinny cryptic toes cowardly curl and wiggle as the end of my tattered gown rests on my ankles, there are a few sly icicles dangling off of my feet. Upon further self acknowledgement I come to realize that I was in fact that token post mortem blue grey hue and that my fingernails were all gone except for two, which were packed full of dark dirt under the nails. Curiously my hands were all covered in dirt as would be if I had just dug myself up from the underground! "What the hell is going on?" I nervously spoke to myself. "Am I dreaming?" I hear a disgruntled mumble from the two on the opposite side of the lift, " He doesn't even have any teeth honey!" I nervously bring my hand up to my mouth to uncover the new and particularly horrific finding that in fact I have no teeth and my mouth has a slow bloody ooze coming from it which has created a very unpleasant and morbid look to my face. I imagine the disappointment, confusion and fear my eyes must display when people see them, further reinforcing their notion of my instability and their fear of me. In full nightmare panic I prepare to leap from the lift into the soft snow garden that we are quietly floating over. As I jump I hear someone call my name while I fall ghostly through mid air, gown flapping in the wind. Landing in the snow feels like I have found all that I was ever looking for, like my purpose was now fulfilled and the comfort of being encased in the soft blanket of snow has made all of my vile new self discoveries seem normal and not so misunderstood. Peering up to the lifts that are passing over me I hear some laughter and some endearing comments. Someone calls my name again, it's my Mom. She laughs and asks me how the heck I got all the way down there and why in the world I didn't have any snow gear on, and.... why the heck I had no snowsliding device with me. "What are you doing down there honey, did you just get out of bed?" I smile and try to talk but I can't, I burst into hysteric laughter while I cry, intercepting. I see my mom crest and disappear over the ridge on the chairlift with an echoing " HAVE FUN SWEETY."I lay looking up at the sky for a minute while I laugh, and cry and swallow intermittently, trying to define this emotional amalgamation. This is probably what they meant when they said "it will all come back to you someday." Earlier someone had promised me that someday I would find what it was I was looking for and I would one day be ready to take it all in and begin again with purposeful and compassionate fortitude. In that unparalleled solitude of deep snow I found my ghoul like, toothless, misunderstood and confused being transforming. I began to see the the sky turn from grey to blue and the trees from barren branch statues to lush, green keepers of the mountains. I looked at my terrible rotting feet for encouragement as they were beginning to heal and showcase some vitality. I stood up and looked around at the sea of surrounding white, lifting my chin to the sky I scream, "FOR REAL!!?" My teeth were coming back in as I licked away the blood around my mouth. At that point I had never felt so alone nor so encouraged. Just then I felt the spray of a powder curtain waft over me, I look back to see my brother's face emerge from the powdery fog. "Hey bud, you ready to go back now?" I smile and sniffle a tear away, "Yes, Please?" I say desperately. "Let's go man, you're all done dude" my bother says. "Put these on, here's your stick. Follow me, I got a rad line back to the room."My brother and I surf powder turns down the mountain for what seems like ten miles of endless perfection as my body tingles and begins to warm. When we get to the bottom I scream in disbelief and gratitude. I hug my brother and bury my head in his shoulder, crying once again. I say "Thanks so much man!" My head tilts back and I look up to the fourth floor of the glassy lodge. I see a vague silhouette of someone on a computer typing away in the window, raising their head to peer out after every fourth or fifth word typed. I barely mumble to myself "I wonder what that guy is writing about?" I think my brother hears me but he doesn't say anything. He throws his arm around me and asks me what we're gonna do tomorrow.

I have surpassed my final treatment and I am doggy paddling my way through this last week of dreadful sludge. I'm spending my final haggard weekend in a sweet ass suite up in squaw valley while my mom and crew enjoy powderful bliss. What an unexplainably scary, yet enlightening soul search it's been. How amazing it is to be done and to be able to go out and take a bite of this big tasty world and to enjoy all the flavors it once again has to offer. Six months of foreign, redefining and fearful thoughts have given way to a character of a completely different purpose and self understanding. Thank you all for your support once again, you helped me fight half this battle. THanks for listening -Sickstick-