Colorado: My First Paycheck

After working at the ski resort for two weeks, I received my first paycheck that came out to be a whopping $94 after taxes. No that's not a typo. It really was ninety four dollars. I think framing the check is more meaningful than its monetary value. Luckily I was hired for a short-term consulting gig in San Francisco last week that will fund the rest of my winter allowing me to live on my measly bi-weekly paychecks. Well, Justin's unemployment money helps a lot, too, as in paying for everything else. Power couple we are not; but blissfully poor? Most definitely!

After months of not working (ski school host doesn't really count), I do find myself missing the corporate world, or elements of it such as cute work clothes (it was great not wearing ski pants to work for a change), coworkers to socialize with, and of course expensed flights, hotels, and meals. When I arrived in the Palo Alto office last Thursday and was taken to the break room, my jaw dropped at the sight of baskets overflowing with fresh fruits - not just bananas and oranges but nectarines, berries, kiwis, peaches, and mangoes. There was also an abundant supply of cup-a-noodles, cereals, yogurts, hot cocoa, and a variety of teas and coffees along with their own cappucino machine.

But even cappucino machines weren't enough to make me go back to the corporate world permanently just yet. After hanging out with my new coworkers and old friends in the Bay Area for a week, I don't regret my choice as a ski bunny and was ready to go home. While their lives are fulfilling and rich with material goods (my colleagues' exhausting discussion about their portfolios was vomit-inducing), I realized that the more money you make, the more money you spend, and therefore the more money you have to continue to make to sustain such a lifestyle. Sure, I'm not the one driving a Lexus and go home to a million-dollar penthouse - I haven't even bought a handbag in a year - but we lead such simple lives here that we honestly don't need much to be happy. When I exchange stories about my life, they tell me how much they wish they could quit their jobs and be free like me. One even told me her husband doesn't allow her to have kids yet because of her earning power. All I know is that everyone has a choice. If you know what is important to you, you only have this life to make it happen. And it's never too late. Even when the price you pay is a $94 paycheck...

Colorado: Blame it on the altitude!

As I mentioned in a previous post that if you don't stay hydrated the first few days you arrive (and before you arrive), you can easily get altitude sickness which can happen at 6,500 feet above sea level. The thinner air does not allow your body to get as much oxygen as it needs causing such symptoms as headache, loss of appetite, and nausea. There is not much you can do once you get it other than suffer through it or get back down to a lower altitude. Not only does the high altitude affect your body, it affects other things in our lifestyle that our sea level counterparts take for granted. For example, it takes twice as long to boil water up here. When you bake something, you have to bake at a different temperature and for a longer period. Next time you bake, take a look at the package as some provide different baking directions for high altitude which I never noticed before until now. We use high altitude flour when we make pies and cakes. Plasma TV's cannot perform at high altitude either - they start to make a buzzing sound above 6,000 feet. This was news to us until we went with our roommate Kevin to shop for a plasma TV and were told we have to get an LCD instead. Those are just a few examples of things that we have to adjust to. Other effects include you get drunk a lot faster up here (which means cheaper date) and you have a serious gas problem. You will notice that when you are here, you fart more than you will ever have your whole life. Our household is a never-ending concerto of flatulence that appeal to (or turn off) both auditory and olfactory senses. But all we can do is laugh and blame it on the altitude.

Colorado: You've Got Mail

When my cousin Angie asked if I received her card in the mail, I knew right away that it was lost forever. My hunch was confirmed when she said she sent it to our house. You see, living in the mountains means we don't get our mail delivered to our house. Being a Breckenridge resident requires you to get a PO Box, which means while the rest of the country can enjoy the wonderful service of their neighborhood mailman rain or shine, we have to go to the post office to pick up and drop off mail. And living in a small town means there is only one post office, so queues can get pretty darn long even on a Tuesday afternoon. But if you are expecting a package via FedEx or UPS, then you'll have to provide your physical address, not your PO Box, because they do deliver to your house. Confused yet? I guess it's just a part of living up in the mountains. At least everyone is entitled to a free PO box as long as you have proof of residency. I do wonder where in the world Angie's card will resurface.

But not having a mailman is a small price to pay to live here - we get 300 days of sunshine year-round and just take a look at our backyard (the two pictures above are taken outside our deck)! Not only do we get to ski or board at a number of ski resorts at our disposal, we also cross-country ski and go snow-mobiling as there are numerous trails within a 20-minute drive. Colorado is also home to some of the world's best natural hot springs and vapor caves. And that's just the winter. Summers here are even more exciting and fun as the kind of activities you can do is bound only by your imagination. Kayaking, camping, boating, mountain biking, hiking, fly fishing, moonlight water rafting are just some examples that contribute to a popular saying around here, "People come for the winter but stay for the summer."

Colorado: Ullr Fest

This past week Breckenridge hosted the annual Ullr Festival to honor Ullr (Ooo-ler), the Norse God of Snow. It is a weeklong celebration to repay the winter god who blesses the town with his gift of snow every year. The festivities, a tradition since the 1960's, include ice-skating party, bonfire, dating game, crowning of the Ullr king and queen, Ullympics, chili cookoff, and the infamous Ullr Parade on Main Street complete with floats. The kick-off party was held at the Gold Run Nordic Center which was conveniently located across the street from our house. So naturally we cross country skiied down the road to attend the Ullr Fest for free food and hot chocolate. Last year and every year before that they served free booze but this year it was a cash bar which explains the lower-than-usual turnout. There was a singing performance by an all-boy a-capella group from NYC and then the crowning of the Ullr King and Queen (which reminded me of a middle-age homecoming court but instead of tiaras, they were crowned with big tacky bejeweled helmets with horns.) The night ended with a bonfire outside where everyone circled around freezing their little asses off singing "Kumbaya." Ok kidding about the "Kumbaya" but they might as well. The event is actually lamer than it sounds but how often do you get to ski straight from your house to a party?

The Ullr Parade, however, was as rowdy and fun as any parade can be. Reminiscent of Mardi Gras, women were lifting up their shirts for beads while speedo-clad men were streaking in negative-degree weather to pass out condoms and candy. Main Street was closed off for the entire afternoon for crazy and creative floats to cruise by with screaming spectators cheering on. Then the entire town went bar hopping for the rest of the night. We ended up at the Gold Pan as well as the Motherloaded (pictured here) with Justin's Pittsburgh friends who were in town for a bachelor party. I guess if you can't have strippers at your bachelor party (there are no strip clubs in Breck), the Ullr Parade is a close second!

Colorado: Joy Ruck Crub

Getting my part-time hostess job at the ski resort was one thing, telling my mother about it was quite another. But before I get into that, I need to provide a little history on what it was like growing up in my family. If you've ever seen the highly acclaimed movie in the early 90's based on Amy Tan's novel Joy Luck Club about four Chinese-American mother-daughter relationships (my favorite scene being a young Russell Wong sticking his entire fist into an open watermelon and slurping it up), then you'll have an inkling of what it's like to be a Chinese-American daughter. Unless of course you are one yourself, then you'll know exactly what I mean.

My parents abandoned a life of luxury along with their Filipino maid when leaving Hong Kong to come to the U.S. so that my sister and I could have a safer future in case the Chinese take-over in '97 spells disaster for the HK economy (which turned out to be quite the opposite.) And when your Chinese parents are college-educated with esteemed professions, your worth is measured by how well you do in school and how successful you are (or how much money you make) in your career. Growing up, if we brought home a test score of 98, my dad would ask, "Why didn't you get a 100?" And even straight A's were not enough - I had to excel in piano while my sister was a star athlete. Luckily for my parents, their progeny turned out almost exactly what they had hoped for. Excellent grades, respectable careers, and happy marriages were some of the things they could brag about to their friends. Not to mention all the vacations we treated them to once we started working. It appears their decades-long sacrifices had finally paid off with grandkids and retirement to look forward to.

Then one day their eldest woke up from this conforming life and decided to march to her own drums. When I told my mother I was getting a divorce and quiting my six-figure job, it must have felt like a slap in the face. She couldn't sleep for months but understood why I did it. Then when I told her I was taking six months off to travel with my non-Chinese boyfriend, it must have been like splashing a bucket of cold water. But she gave a good face and even offered to make curry chicken for Justin in honor of his Indian heritage (I quickly nixed that idea.) Then she wished us luck with our travels and sent us off to Asia. When we returned, my mother must have hoped that I would finally settle down and get a job again. But when I told her I was spending the winter in Colorado working as a host at the ski resort, it must have been like rubbing salt into old wounds. Old wounds that would never heal as long as I am out and about doing things my way which is clearly divergent from hers.

So when she called and mockingly asked how my first day at work went, she added, "I don't know why you are working for $9 an hour when you can work for $300 an hour." To which I replied, "First of all, I'm not a lawyer or an I-banker so I will never make $300 an hour. Secondly, at least you'll always have your other daughter who is happily married and gainfully employed and will be popping out grandkids in a couple years so you might as well just give up on me." She let out a hearty sigh and proceeded to tell me about her day at work and how to make a Chinese mushroom dish for Justin. It seems no matter how much I must have disappointed her, my mother never fails to provide unconditional love and unwavering support. And for that I will always love and appreciate her to no end.

Colorado: First Day on the Job

Yesterday was my first day of work at the ski resort. Yep I got myself a little part-time job here and have officially been inducted into the Summit County Ski Bum Club. The position I applied for was listed on the website as:

Ski School Host

• Description: Enhance guests' Ski & Ride School experience by providing location information, assist with equipment transportation, expedite rental process, facilitate child registration process.
• Requirements: High School Diploma. Excellent Guest Service. Must be available to work until April 20th.
• Pay: $8.75/ hour. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with all that loot. Don't envy my high-paying gig just yet, because I also get a free season pass to five ski resorts in the area. That's a hell of a deal considering a one-day ski pass will set you back ninety bucks. If I go thirty times (which I definitely plan to), that's $2700! I also get free lessons every month (worth $90 a lesson) and four half-off ski pass coupons for friends. Plus 50% off rentals and 20% off retail. Not bad for only working three mornings a week.

I interviewed for the position on Monday, filled out paperwork on Tuesday, and started work on Wednesday. The interview was a cinch as they just needed a warm body to show up. And I showed up, although my body was more cold than warm considering it was a mere 2 degrees outside. When the manager informed me the position required me to stand both outside and inside, I told him I don't do too well in the cold. So he was kind enough to promise that I only need to greet guests inside the office. He also promised me more free lessons a month than normally given to employees. And if I ever want to be "promoted" to the Product Sales position which pays $9.50/hour, it's mine. Wow. Why can't all managers be this accommodating?

After surviving my first day on the job, I would change the job description to:

Ski School Host

• Description: Greet confused guests at front door of Ski & Ride School. Tell guests to sign waiver forms before registering for lessons so they won't sue if they get ran over by speedy skiers/boarders. Calm angry parents when they come in an hour late to sign up for lessons for their kids. Pretend to know what you are doing when directing guests where to go (I'm really good at that one as I'm accidentally misguided several guests on my first day. Oops - well a little extra runaround never hurt anyone).
• Requirements: Warm body and thick skin with ability to understand and speak English.
• Pay: This should be your second or third job if you even want to think about paying for rent or food.

Pictures: Justin and I spending our first Christmas together in Colorado at our friend's ranch.