i hate being sick. i feel like a lazy semi-unproductive blob of mucous. but being sick reminds me, i've had it worse. like when i had strep a couple months ago. or even worse, when i thought i had the swine flu in yosemite.
living in a tent was awesome, rolling around in the dirt and living in a tent was awesome, climbing big rocks rolling around in the dirt and living in a tent was awesome. what was not awesome, was having the flu, in what seemed like a sweat lodge.
most of my time, generally speaking, was spent climbing, hiking, running, biking, or ughhhh working. and then of course, the ole drunken campfire routine, cowboys and all. this being said, i rarely entered my tent, except for the following reasons: sleeping, raining, powowing, blackedoutness, nakedness (though on occasion that would happen outside the tent), etc. so when i got sick during the high mark of summer (100 degrees and all), this was the last place i wanted to be, though i was fortunate to have 3 wonderful female roommates that put up with me and my boyfriend. we were a happy little family in our canvas tent that made me hum the tune from M*A*S*H every waking moment in it.
brad and i were excited to climb and camp in tuolomne for the weekend. we had been climbing down in the valley thus far, and were stoked for some cooler weather and some slabby knobby tuolomne rock. our weekend was going to be great, easy short pitch climbs, swimming at the beach, and tuolomne meadows. during the drive up tioga pass, i had to make brad stop twice. car sickness! nothing but dry heaving; an inauspicious start to our "perfect" weekend from the busy valley.
we reached west country crack on stately pleasure domes. feeling alright, but slightly queasy, brad and i decided he would lead the whole thing (although it was only 3or 4 pitches 5.6 or 5.7) and just get up it fast. (a line was approaching). my mythos felt like they were melting to my feet, and i pretended i was dano on bear's reach when i climb it. a very fun climb. we got to the top and started the walk off when i started feeling terrible. i had to stop every 40 feet or so, to stop feeling nauseous. i figured i could walk it off though.
we made it down and decided to do another easy multi pitch down the road. Darth Vader's Revenge. by the time we go to the base of the climb i could barely pay attention to belay and bradley was more than irate with me. he climbed the first pitch, and when he was clipping the anchors, i hurled bright pink chunks all over the base of the rock. blahhhh.
we drove back to the valley stables, my home, and there i spent the evening drinking whiskey with cowboys, convinced i could drink away my illness. i went into my cosy little tent and passed out, only to wake up to the sun blasting in, a sweltering 105 degrees, and me sweating from being hot and cold at the same time, with my puke bucket, my water, and my tissues by my side. a side note, i failed to mention, is that our tent was literally covered in dirt all the time. my bed was covered in dirt. in fact, i'm pretty sure i never washed the blankets or sheets the whole time i lived in this tent (7 months) because in a matter of seconds, they would be thoroughly coated in dirt again. so my sweaty stinky puky mucous filled body was not only hot and sick, but covered in dirt particles and flies that had meandered over from the neighboring horse stables.
as i sit here, typing this blog, sick as shit, in the confines of a comfy clean (emphasis on clean) bed, watching ancient aliens on a "TELEVISION" , and a "COMPUTER" with "INTERNET" to distract me. i realize that life has gotten a little montonous, and somewhat boring.
but...... this means that i will have a new digital painting and traditional paintings to post soon.
