It's Better in Wyoming.

Another resolution for two oh oh eight: shut the door. This is something I've been working on for a while now, but a frustratingly stupid phone call today, a revisiting of a lot of the hurt and anger of the past year, reminds me that the door is still, as the warning light sometimes says, ajar. Regret is dumb. I don't know of a more eloquent, comprehensive way to say it. This fact is easy enough to accept in the logical part of my brain, less easy for me to incorporate into my reflexive and emotional fiber. In related news, I wouldn't trade my life for Lindsay Lohan's. Or David Hasselhoff's. Relatively speaking, I'd also say I'm ahead of Barry Bonds and OJ, too. Regret is dumb: learning from past mistakes is smart.

I cut my skiing short this morning because the wind was nasty. The sun is deceptively bright today, though, so I under-dressed for my walk downtown, too. At the Curiosity Shoppe I saw my friend Jess, who said the predicted high in Laramie today is 7. Looking at the positive side, discomfort builds character, and cold burns calories. Plus, I wanted to look cool. Looking cool is a bit of a challenge for me. Okay, a lot of a challenge. I rarely think about the the low wardrobe expectations here in Laramie, and usually I view that as a positive. I mean, I love being able to teach in jeans and t-shirts. Grad students who've taught at other schools say they faced higher standards. Slowly I've been trying to increase the overall level of formality of my clothes, but my closet is spare of really classy outfits. Maybe that should be one of my resolutions: practice being classier. In unrelated news, I'm watching yet another HGTV show about real estate prices. I wonder i

Today was my first cross-country skiing outing for the season. There's supposed to be a storm coming into town tomorrow, and apparently it's coming over the hill today. About an inch or so fell while I was up in the forest. "Fell" is not really what it did; "blew in" more accurately describes things. Despite the wind, though, the trip was a good one. I did the creek trail, nearly 3 miles, in just about an hour. Not a record-setting time, but I'm not out to set records. In other, unrelated news: So far, I like The Subtle Knife. It's the book after The Golden Compass in the "His Dark Materials Trilogy." I find the series to be effective in helping me rethink my views on spirituality; the books, so far, have not 'turned me into' an atheist. In still other, differently unrelated news: My first experience with Ethiopian cuisine was alright. I'm not sure what I had--the spicy lamb stew, essentially, but I don't remember

Here are some things that are withing my grasp: - statistics on the reading habits of UK citizens. The number 2 book they don't finish is Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. - a bottle of Odwalla oj . - hundreds of songs saved on my hard drive. and hundreds of pictures. - 1.68 million potentially-relevant documents about "writing center privacy." - the street addresses for five Target stores within five miles or so. - the ability to register for a class in the spring, eliminate holds on my record, ask the instructor a question about a potential scheduling conflict. I'm sitting at Caribou Coffee on a day off, part of my holiday break between semester. I'm rarely struck at the amount of information that is within grasp: I've grown--like most other people, I think--quite accustomed to the ease of access. But ten, or even five, years ago a lot of this information would've required a substantial amount more work. Fifty years ago (maybe a bit

The ski trails at Happy Jack, according to Amber Travsky's web report this morning, were 'marginal.' The advice: take your rock skis. Well, I don't have rock skis, I've only got good skis, and I'd prefer to not yet turn them into rock skis. So I left them home and put on my running shoes instead. The report was accurate: not quite enough snow for skiing. On the other hand, too much snow for an easy walk. I wasn't sinking through the snow; it was more like walking on sponges: no real surface for pushing into the next step. I figure it shoulda been a good calf workout. Body count for today's hike: two humans, one dog. One of the people had hiking boots; his partner was on snowshoes. I heard Atmosphere Mountainworks is having a sale; it may be time to become a snowshoer.

Tonight I went to the public library to hear travel writer Mark Jenkins read from his new book. Good stuff, and the question and answer session afterwards was really great--he manages to make me want to both travel more and stay home more. He says that after all of his travels, he still feels fortunate to be able to come home to a place like Laramie. His passion for this town makes me think I should buy a house here, now. Maybe a range of experience can only take us so far. Or maybe we have to keep a sense of home in order to learn from our experiences. It's odd to feel torn between wanting a home and wanting to collect more experiences, but maybe it doesn't have to be a choice.