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Making it in Missoula

And here you have it! The winner of January's "You Made It" contest comes from Missoula resident Brook, who gave us the best workplace romance. (And a successful one to boot!) - Big Sis

I figured, as an alternative to therapy, I'd get this out into the public realm. Not that it matters much, since the "other party" lives 3,000 miles away. Here goes:

So, I was busy planning events and meetings in my past life at work, and had lots of great co-workers/friends (though mostly folks my own age and mostly females). Then we had a guy join our team - quiet but sarcastic, educated, great musical taste, earthy/cleaned up very nicely - just my style.

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Column: Making it in Missoula

So, as Little Sis continues her exploration of alternative fun in Missoula (and tenaciously clings to the celibacy wagon), I’ve decided to explore my own alternative route to spicing up Missoula life: online dating.

Here’s why: I ain’t gettin’ no action from the traditional routes. When the only offer I get on a Saturday night involves peeling wallpaper from the walls of my ex-boyfriend’s house (and this is not a euphemism), it’s time to take drastic action.

I’m not talking about “action” in the “cornucopia of venereal disease” sense, either—though I’m not necessarily on the celibacy wagon. I just mean “action” in the sense of pursuing something more exciting than sitting alone and watching paint dry while waiting for Mr. Perfect.

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Column: Making it in Missoula

I have a hangover from holiday cheer. I’m exhausted mentally and physically, not just from too much egg nog, but from chatting, traveling, eating, and smiling--usually done all at once.

Between invitations from neighbors, friends, co-workers, family, extended family, and the extended family of all of my neighbors and friends, I estimate that I attended at least 25 parties in the past month. And I bet you all attended plenty, too. In fact, we were probably at many of the same luncheons, happy hours, or non-profit fundriasers in Missoula--but I wouldn’t remember, due to the plethora of holiday wine.

All of December feels a bit like a dream, and now that I’ve woken up, I can’t quite grasp all the details. My brain feels like a fruitcake, full of alcohol-induced holes, and my body feels like a sponge cake, full of canape-induced lethargy.

Note: Read on for the details of the "Making It" contest the sisters are running!

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Column: Making it in Missoula

It's that time of year when everyone's making lists -- for gifts, parties, Christmas cards, and New Year's resolutions.

Lately, another type of wish list keeps popping up in my conversations: the "what-I-want-in-a-significant-other" list. The question is: should we really check this list twice?

I've never actually crafted a hard-copy list of attributes I look for in a potential partner/boyfriend/lover/husband (choose your favorite politically-correct descriptor here). Okay -- maybe in sixth grade I made a list in my diary with one of those really cool ballpoint pens that could switch between four different colors.

But these days, I don't carry around a printed version, colorful or otherwise. One reason for this is that I don't, actually, know what I want (shocking), and the other reason is that there's an off-chance this list would be circulated wildly and my dreams of running for political office would be shot to hell.

However, that doesn't mean I don’t have half-formed ideas of what I'd like to find in a significant other. [more]

Column: Making it in Missoula

It was a full moon last night. And we all know what happens under full moons in Missoula. That's right--people strap on skis or jump on sleds for a dreamy slide over sparkly snow in the 20-degree mountain air. Ah, the magic. The romance.

Well, maybe not quite so romantic for me last night, as I was with my girlfriend, Super Scribe. But as we slid (and stumbled) over the glowing white trails in the Rattlesnake, I couldn’t help but compare my full-moon activities in Missoula to those I participated in a few days ago in Portland.

It’s different in the big city. My moonlit nights in Portland involved less snow and more cultural experiences, such as visiting gay bars and listening to the convoluted sexual adventures of folks who live there. And I was in town for a benign work-related conference.
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Column: Making it in Missoula

It happens all the time. In cubicles, on summer trail-clearing gigs, behind the counter at a local restaurant, in the conference room during a meeting—co-workers tend to fall in love. Or at least in lust.

In my non-expert opinion, I’d say as many as 95% of people have had a fling with someone at work. Could’ve been nothing more than a flirtation in the hall followed by a single dud of a date. Or maybe the hallway flirtation led to a walk down the aisle, wedding bells tolling cheerily in the background. [more]

Making It In Missoula

This Halloween I’ve determined that my best costume is my birthday suit. No one seems to recognize you when you’re buck naked. Maybe it’s because they aren’t really looking at your face.

This theory was proved at Jerry Johnson Hot Springs this weekend by our housemate, Rad Roomie, when she accompanied Little Sis and me on a rejuvenating soak in the woods. We entered a pool already occupied by two strangers, and discovered only after we exited and dressed that Rad Roomie had recently met the husband of the couple.

There aren’t many situations where you meet new people without your clothes on. But due to the plethora of backcountry natural hot springs in this part of the world, I’ve had the opportunity to meet dozens of fabulous Montanans (and even some nice enough Idahoans) in the buff—and nowhere near the bedroom. [more]

Column: Making it in Missoula

TAILGATE
As a noun:
1a. A hinged board or closure at the rear of a vehicle, such as a pick-up truck, that can be lowered during loading and unloading.
2a. One of the pair of gates downstream in a canal lock.

As a verb:
1b. To drive so closely behind (another vehicle) that one cannot stop or swerve with ease in an emergency.
2b. To participate in a picnic that is served from the tailgate of a vehicle, as before a sports event.

*from American Heritage Dictionary

Other than the downstream gates on a canal lock, I explored all of these definitions of “tailgate” this weekend. Here’s a run-down of the outcome.
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Column: Making it in Missoula

It’s a brave new world out there for socialites—the land of virtual networks. I’ve come to realize lately that I’m woefully ignorant about the function and etiquette of the many online social hubs. And I hope to stay that way.
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Column: Making it in Missoula

Whew. What a weekend. Not only did Missoula ring in the fall weather with abundant grand openings, fairs and celebrations, I had an unexpected visitor (an acquaintance made during a Mexican vacation) drop in amidst all the social commotion.

I immersed my visitor in Missoula’s social scene this weekend, so we wouldn’t have to cross any awkward bridges between friends and “special” friends. It worked perfectly. Check out some of the Northern Rockies’ fall flair I showed my visitor from the Southern Rockies. [more]

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