I went to church...

Yes. I did. I promise. I went to church AND I did not burst into flames.

I am not religious but I consider myself a spiritual person. I don't have enough information to make an informed decision about a divine Deity and I was brought up in a very scientific household so I never felt a desire or need to go to church. For some church is about community, for some it is about having a direct line to God. I think that there is something beautiful about the ceremony, especially at a Catholic mass.

That is until the Deacon started talking about how a wife should obey her husband and how it was bad to go to nightclubs because that will lead directly into temptation. He kind of lost me there.

I've been thinking a lot about spirituality and destiny lately. Why we are put in the circumstances that we are in. Do we make our destiny or is it preordained? And if it is preordained are we given our life to test us? To see how strong we are?

Whether it be God's plan, my plan or destiny. Bring it on... I can handle it.

The Middle of Nowhere

When I told people that I was driving to Texas the typical reaction was that it was going to take 30+ hours to get there. They also assumed that we would be sticking big interstates which would mean having to either go through Denver or Sioux Falls to find a big enough North/South thoroughfare down to Texas. Well, my mother and I are of the same school when it comes to road trips. Why would we take a big, boring highway when there are cool, interesting back roads to explore? Now, with my mother's penchant for getting lost (she's been almost to Yellowstone before she realized she was headed West instead of East) it can be kind of daunting. I usually have Heidi, my sexy GPS lady, with me although she has been known to take me down closed and non-paved roads. Back roads are an adventure and you end up seeing beautiful country that you would never see from the interstate.

Once we got headed South out of South Dakota we had a relatively easy trip. We almost turned on the wrong Highway 26 in Nebraska but as soon as we started heading North I got us turned back the right direction.

I had never been through Nebraska, Kansas or Oklahoma, I had only heard horror stories about how boring the country was. Well, Western Nebraska was incredibly beautiful. There were buttes, bluffs and crags that made for a terrain different then any other part of the US.

By the time we got to Kansas it was dark but the thing that got me was that every single town we passed through was lit to the hilt with Christmas lights. There were whole nativity scenes in blue, red, green and white on almost every lawn no matter how small or even smaller the town was. I just kept thinking that electricity must be really cheap in Kansas because there were a lot of lights.

By the time we got through Oklahoma my eyes were starting to swim from trying to focus on lights so far away on the horizon. I would turn of my brights for an oncoming car that didn't end up passing me for a good ten minutes.

The last leg of the trip reminded me of the beginning. When we passed into Texas a fog settled in and the roads got slick and icy. It was two in the morning and we'd been on the road since 11 am. Mom was trying to sleep so she could drive the first leg in the morning but the conditions were such that it made her nervous. I was just trying to keep myself awake by practicing songs for RENT auditions in January.

Finally at 4 am we got to our destination of Shamrock, TX. We checked in and settled down for a few hours of sleep.

The Wrong Turn

When we woke up Thursday morning there was a slick layer of ice encrusting the Black Hills. Roads were closed and we were unsure as to whether or not we would even be able to make it out of Deadwood. By 11 am we decided that we would brave it and head on our road trip to visit Grandma down in Houston, Texas.

My mother has traveled the world and has driven across country on more than one occasion. I figured that she was prepared.

We decided that we were going to drive to Rapid City then head south on 79 down to Nebraska to avoid the icy road conditions in the Black Hills. I asked mom if she had GPS.

“Oh I know how to get to 79 but I have GPS on my phone. I hope I remembered to pack my phone.” I, a little bemused, shrugged the comment off. “Plus I printed out directions off Google Maps.”

When we got to Rapid City, mom seems like she knows where she is going. Then we started heading towards Mt. Rushmore and it just didn’t seem right to me. So I check the directions she had printed out and it looks as if we had missed the turn to get on 79.

“Mom, do you have a map in the car?”

“Oh… I think so. Look in the pocket on the door.”

I get out the map and sure enough we are headed straight towards Custer, where the black ice and road conditions were at their worst. A very sketchy 45 minutes later we had made it out of the hills and to 79 without ending up in a ditch… barely.

“Mom, where are we going next? Do you have a map of Nebraska?”

“No. I have the Google directions.”

Oh, boy… this was going to be a long trip.

A New Inspiration

There's nothing like a 25 hour road trip with your mother to get the creative juices flowing on a blog that you haven't touched in 8 months. Nothing. Before I launch into the trip; here are some updates from my life post last blog post.

1. I am now Business Manager of very busy restaurant in Spearfish, SD called The Spearfish Chophouse and Whiskey Bar. The job combines my love of everything culinary and my MBA but let me tell you it is a blog in itself... yes, you will be hearing more.

2. I have revived my theater career. This summer I made my triumphant return to the stage as Annie in Annie Get Your Gun (the other red head) and recently played Eliza in My Fair Lady. Next auditions are for RENT in one week. It's a new director and new theater group so I am a little nervous.

Well... on to the trip. (Mom may hate me for this)

A Down Economy

I knew when I moved to South Dakota that it would be tough to find a job similar to what I was doing in California. There is just not the same sort of industry available in this part of the country. Almost everything revolves around hospitality/tourism, agriculture or healthcare.

In August I got a position working in the sales department for a UK based clinical diagnostics company. I was excited. It sounded like a decent career path and many of my former clients were medical device companies. I felt I could handle the industry change. What I couldn't handle... was corporate headquarters inability to understand the scope or size of the US market. In the end I was covering seven states and putting around 1500 miles on my odometer a week. That coupled with the fact that they wanted to put me in a division that covered a target market that did not exist in this geography made me (for the first time in my life) quit a job out of sheer frustration.

So now I have to figure out how to live where I want to live while earning a living wage. I have applied for quite a range of positions. Everything from a wine Tasting Room Manager to an Economist. I have a well rounded background and stellar education but I have been in a very specific field for most of my career.

I don't know what my next step in my career may be. For now I'll just enjoy the beauty around me and be thankful for what I have.

Owwwwwwwww

I got run over by a chairlift yesterday.

I don't know how old I was when I started skiing but it was pretty early. My parents would take us up to Lake Tahoe every season. I took private lessons and was skiing black diamond runs as far back as I can remember. So how the hell did I fall of the chairlift at Terry Peak? A slow chairlift at that?

I admit I wasn't really paying attention. I had realized, a moment earlier, that I hadn't taken the straps of my poles from around my wrist. I was so furiously trying to get my pole situation fixed that I didn't even realize that I was slipping forward into the path of the oncoming chair.

"Molly, where you going?" yelled Ruben.

Well... I slid right into a chair (at a 90 degree angle) that was meant for a couple of men who were, clueless as to what was happening behind them, patiently waiting for their ride up the hill.

So I immediately sat down and tried to get my skis pointed in the right direction so I could slide in between the two of them and save the situation. I thought I was safe until the very tip of my ski caught his boot.

That's when I got sucked under. It was like getting sucked into a rip tide (for those of us who have experienced it, it's scary). I went down... hard. My skis were under, then my calves, then my hips. The man on the lift was trying to grab me and pull me back up but I was done and I didn't want to be drug any further then I already was. I screamed at him to me go. He did.

I fit perfectly under that chair lift. Not one snag on my gear, no scratches, only a small bruise on my leg. I was damn lucky. Had I been larger, taller, or less flexible, I would have been badly injured.

The boys operating the ski lift didn't even stop it until I went down. It was about 15 seconds too late to prevent my ski chair limbo demonstration. They got me up right away and I just hopped on the chair I was originally supposed to take up the mountain. I was laughing most of the ride until Ruben started talking about the metal blade that I just managed to slip under and how every bad accident that he has seen on the mountain (he used to be an instructor) was either getting on or off the lifts.

I admit I was lucky. I have a pretty large bruise on my leg and my hips and back are a little tweaked, but I'm okay. It's mostly my ego that is bruised. I'm going to have to go buy new ski clothes so one can recognize me.

Weathering the cold

The last time I lived in a place where it snowed regularly was in 2000 in New York City. New York snow is not like Midwest snow. This year at Christmas we got over three feet. We managed to shuttle everyone to Christmas dinner in a truck and ambulance with snow plows strapped to the front. Ruben, Lily and I put on our toughest winter snow gear to trek one block through waist deep snow.

Some nights when I get bored of Mafia Wars, Farmville and all the other silly Facebook applications I'm cracked out on, I walk down the city steps and head downtown. This is a small town and there's always going to be some locals hanging out after work. It's also a tourist town, so between the gambling crowd, the snowmobiling groups and skiers you never know how busy (or how much it will resemble a ghost town) Main St. will be on any given day. The #10 ( is the market indicator of Deadwood. If the #10 is busy it's a good night, if not, most of the card dealers, bartenders and cocktail waitresses are yawning and complaining about the lack of tips.

I've walked downtown in temperatures as low as 2 degrees. Once it gets below freezing I'm usually in for the night. The things about living in a geography where there are actually four seasons that I did not expect are that 1) I don't mind the cold and 2) I absolutely adore the snow (not just for skiing). I know that this has been a milder winter than normal but I've gone out when it's 40 degrees with no coat and been just fine.

Winter has always been my favorite season. And not Bay Area winter. I'm talking about my mom spinning out on black ice in Reno winter, a frozen lake and group retreat in Pennsylvania winter and the crisp in the air when it hits 35 degrees in Connecticut winter. Winter is clean and pure and refreshing. Here in The Black Hills it is stunningly breathtaking (even when you have to shovel).

I absolutely adore my walks downtown though I always take a cab home, because, walking home from Downtown means walking UP the city steps.