Archive for May, 2009

Uranus must be in my house of Venus because I’ve been getting a lot of male attention lately… and that’s really saying something since it’s gay ski week and 80% of the town ain’t buying what I’m selling. Here’s a photo of Marko Tomassetti, 3rd place winner in the Aspen Gay Ski Week costume contest. God bless America.bilde4

I’m not sure if he is supposed to be Britney, Paris, or Lindsay but I think his lack of man-scaping might have landed him with the bronze instead of gold.

As far as the male attention goes, I’m starting to guess it has more to do with altitude than allure.  When I moved to Aspen, I was one of three girls on the entire turbo prop plane that sputtered into Grand Junction.  I don’t know the official statistics, but it does seem like the guy-to-girl ratio in Colorado is around 10-1.  The state’s nickname “Men-ver” leads me to believe I’m not the only once that’s noticed this.

The Aspen Chamber of Commerce should seriously consider putting “every day is a great hair day” on their website… mixed up in all that blah-blah-blah about skiing.  Maybe more women would seriously consider taking up permanent residence here.

Are there really that few of us ladies that wanna carve the powder, hike the tundra, and whistle while we walk to avoid becoming black bear breakfast?  My best guess is it might be the extreme weather that keeps many women away- I don’t think there are a lot of chicks in cold snowy places like Alaska either, but after some trial and error I promise you can get the swing of living in this climate.

My lips almost fell off after three days here because the air is so dry. I tried Vaseline, Blistex, and some ritzy stuff from the hand-made cosmetics store Lush before I wandered into Carl’s Pharmacy for the first time.

I asked the guys working there through a cracked and almost bleeding smile if they could please for the love-of-god recommend a supernatural lip balm that would rescue me. The clerk laughed and immediately handed me “Aspen Aloe” lip balm, which I thought was a gimmicky joke.

Wrong- this Aspen Aloe stuff is as serious as a heart attack.  It healed me in about 24 hours flat. I even managed saving my nose by rubbing that same mystical Aspen Aloe lip balm all over it.  I know I’m starting to sound like an infomercial, but I do think they should consider handing the stuff out when people cross into the city limits.

My larger point here is that girly-girls can do Aspen full-time and if more girls moved here, perhaps it would be more femme-friendly.  Increasing our strength in numbers would at least foster a few more places to get affordable manicures – just because I have to wear crampons hiking to work doesn’t mean I can’t have cute nails.

Until then, I guess the handful of us local snow bunnies that already call Aspen home  are going to have to continue to tough-out all the nice dinners, free shots,  and the ridiculous  ratio that’s a part of coexisting with Aspen’s athletic adventurous mountain men.


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Two slices of good-after-beers pizza later I’m checking out a pair of 1950s wooden skis that look like they were whittled by hand and are at least 7 feet long. You buckle these babies to your feet and if you were to fall in them the resulting injury would have to be either a broken leg or one hell of a splinter.

These antique skis are leaning in the corner of a nicely remodeled luxury condo in Aspen proper, along with baseball bats that were once swung by Mickey Mantle, and some golf clubs that belonged to someone famous, but I’m a girly-girl so really, how much sports trivia can I be expected to remember here?

It’s the middle of April and we’ve gotten 10 inches of snow today. It’s the off season and town seems to have turned back into a pumpkin… more than half of the bars and stores are closed, and every night that I venture out I drink with the same crew surrounded by the same ten to twenty people.

Yes, it’s muddy, and it’s snowing but the mountain is closed, and making money seems like a magic trick here at this time of year… however there’s something pleasant about the temporary pause that’s been put

upon the influx of tourist energy. Aspen seems like a real small-town again. I’m actually able to get to know people that have lived and worked here for years because my attentions aren’t being split between them and Mr. McWealthy-out-of-towner who thinks it’d be good to discuss business over drinks at The ‘Bou.

Not that I don’t appreciate the prosperity and value that Aspen’s well-heeled tourists and part-time locals bring… they are it’s modern lifeblood and an essential piece of it’s charmingly diversified identity. However there’s something yummy about grabbing a Fat Tire with the girl or guy who’s lived here for 5+ years and basking in local gossip, seasonal banter, and the knowledge that your cohort will pickle here in the valley with you as you explore riding the year-round tides of one of the most gorgeous and fabled mountain towns in the world.

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