Monday, January 19, 2015


About 3 months ago I realized that my big "life plan" was about to take a huge turn. I wasn't really sure how I was going to go about getting through it, or where I was going to live, or even where my next meal was going to come from. All I knew was that life as I knew it was about to change forever. And, damn, did it ever.

Walking away from someone you moved 2,000 miles to be with is, well, pretty insane. This I know. It sounds equally as crazy as it felt, but I knew I had to make the change. I knew I needed to walk away and find my own happiness, no matter what struggles would come as a consequence to my actions. Looking back now, I'd do it all over again. Struggles and all, I know now that every hardship and obstacle I fought through over the last 3 months was worth so much more than I can even describe.

Except for I'm a writer, or at least a very amateur version of one, and so I'm going to give describing this all a shot.

Having no home to call your own when you live across the country from the people who have supported you for 27 years is probably one of the most humbling situations I've ever endured. What's possibly even more humbling is being taken in by people who had known me for such a short period of time. I was given a room to live in rent-free until I could afford to get my own place, I was given a basement to store all of my belongings in without being asked for anything in return, I was offered help from so many generous and kind-hearted people who refused to let me fail. Never in my life have I felt so fortunate and wealthy; I had so much when, on paper, I had absolutely nothing at all.

With all of that going on, I think it's pretty clear I was in no way, shape, or form, expecting what fell in my lap during it all. I met someone who would forever change my life and my every belief of love in this world.

Thanksgiving was my first holiday I'd spend family-less in Denver, or so I thought. I was invited to a "friendsgiving" type of gathering with my Denver family on Thanksgiving night, being that I wasn't about to turn down a great time with my new friends I jumped at the invitation. I should also add that the night prior to the gathering I was given one thing to bring, a pumpkin pie. In my not-so-sober state I decided I was going to bake one... From scratch... And then I passed out on the couch and said pumpkin pie from scratch never happened. How I've managed to maintain my friends here still blows my mind.

I'm getting off topic. See what happens when I don't write for eleventy years?

I remember sipping on a glass of delicious and rare almond champagne when I overheard someone say that Sparky was on his way over, my eyes lit up brighter than the 2 christmas trees that were surrounding me. I had met Sparky a few times before, had a few conversations with him, but I wasn't ever in a position to take it any further. Well, until I heard his name mentioned and it occurred to me that I was officially single, I didn't really have the energy at that point to consider my "relationship status" prior to that night... Thanksgiving 2014 was the day it also occurred to Sparky that I was single and by the end of the night he asked me if he could take me on a date. It was all kind of a blur, I wasn't at all sure if I was ready but something inside of me was screaming at me to pursue him, so I did. I agreed to go on a first date with the guy I'd silently had an eye on since the day I met him and it was the best choice I've ever made.

November 30th 2014 will forever be one of the best days of my life; our first date, which lasted around 10 hours. I was nervous beyond belief, I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself, I'm fairly certain I botched the majority of the words that came out of my mouth, there were a few points where I had to remind myself to inhale and exhale to avoid passing out, and I think at one point I (soberly) tripped over thin air. I was twitterpated and giddy, I was shaky and jumpy, I was excited and nervous, most of all I was completely swept off of my feet by the most well spoken, handsome, and intriguing man I've ever had the pleasure of sharing a meal with.

To say I was, and very much am, taken by Sparky would be a vast understatement. Never in my life have I felt such powerful emotions for someone and so soon at that. Yes, yes, I'm aware it all happened quickly... I now understand the whole "when you know, you know" cliche. I also know exactly why I ended up in Denver. I know why I hopped those giant obstacles and took that massive risk. Through all of the failed relationships and all of the pain, I am here now in Denver, I am back standing on my own two feet (well aside from being swept off of them on a daily basis), and I am lucky in love with the most wonderful person I have ever laid eyes on.

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Sunday, December 21, 2014

For Me.

With only a few short days until Christmas and not many more until a fresh New Year begins, I finally feel some sort of desire to write. This post is surely not going to be the easiest to press publish on and a part of me knows it will give a select number of you a bit of satisfaction know I've, somewhat, failed but I think I'm finally ready to document my journey in Denver so far.

On a Sunday. Go figure, I still can't manage to really get my (blogging) shit together.

So, here goes nothing...

When I moved out here I made myself promise one main thing, that I was doing it for me and no one else. When I visited in August I made myself promise to look around with eyes that weren't attached to any other dream aside from my own. Denver, Colorado, had to truly be a place that I could see myself making a life of my own in and that I was going to move with the intentions of doing it alone. I knew better than to uproot my life for the sake of a relationship and so I didn't. I moved for me, to start my new life.

I still stand behind that and I'm still so glad I made that leap. For me.

Just a short month and a half after moving I found myself in what I like to refer to as, well, one of life's funny little, for lack of better words, cluster fucks. Or in somewhat more explainitory words... 27, single, broke... Oh, and homeless.

I'll give you a second to pull yourself off the floor because I'm pretty sure I just caused a few of you to fall over. My apologies for any injuries.

You know that promise I made to myself? It's a damn good thing I did because it came in handy somewhere around a month ago when I made the decision to pack up a suitcase (and sir) and leave the apartment I had so recently moved my entire life into. Luckily, and I mean that in a way I can't even put into words, I had somewhere to go thanks to the family I've made here in my short time in Denver. So I guess technically I wasn't, and am not, homeless but I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel that way for a little while.

Just like that the fairytale I thought I had found was burned to the ground and I was living out of a suitcase; something I've never had to experience aside from vacations and, I assure you, this was no vacation. All I knew for certain was that my new life, my new fairytale, it wasn't going to happen in Orlando. I wasn't going to move back, regardless of how difficult it was to make fucking lemonade out of the shitastic lemons life was handing me, Denver was (and is) home now.

It's funny, you think you finally figure your shit out and then, BAM, life comes at you and reminds you that you might never actually figure all of your shit out. No matter how hard you try to put on the big kid face and the big boy pants, you're still going to find yourself face planted in the mud sometimes. And that's ok because if we never face planted in the mud, we'd never learn and grow, I just happen to find myself face planted in mud more often than not... Or at least that's how it feels when I compare myself to many my age on social media.

Either way, there are only two things you can choose to do when you find yourself face to face with a big puddle of mud; you can sit there and feel sorry for yourself or you can pick your muddy ass up and choose to be happy that you didn't ruin a more expensive outfit. I chose, and continue to choose, to be glad it was just an IWYP tank (which I have extras of in storage) that I got all muddy and more than anything I choose to be happy.

At the end of the day I can't help but wonder who the hell ever got all of their ducks in a row because the older I get the more I wonder if that's even a real thing. All I know is that after 27 years I'm starting to think having organized ducks is a bit overrated anyways. Or maybe that's just me, once again, trying to make myself feels better about my muddy face. Either way, this is me and the only damn life I've got to live, I might as well make the best of it!

I'm just lucky enough to be here now. In magical Denver, where I've learned that there are some truly wonderful people in this world and where I've learned just how strong I'm capable of being.

I don't know if, or when, I'll find this desire to write again but I feel like I've unloaded enough for now. Thanks to those who have stuck around, I really do miss you all!

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Wednesday, October 29, 2014

A Hardly Blogger

Last night I went to a blogger event (#swooziesdenver) of sorts, my very first I believe (unless I was drunk and in which case I'm real sorry about that), and it was brought to my attention that I'm hardly a blogger anymore. Ok, no one actually said that verbatim but I did get some shit from a fellow hardly blogger anymore, Sami, so now I'm going to try my best to pump out a post today and then maybe try again tomorrow and the next day, etc, etc. Stella needs to get her groove back.

I would be Stella in that scenario, by the way.

Yesterday marked 20 days since I made my way to Denver and it's been a roller coaster of a 20 days if I'm being honest here. Some days I wake up really excited to be here and to explore my new city, other days I lay in my bedroom, which is classily blacked out thanks to a moving blanket and some pushpins, plotting ways to run away back to everything I know in Orlando. I like to think I've had more good days but it's hard to really plot them all out because there's also the 50/50 days when I go through all of the emotions in a 24 hour span.

Those of you who told me this would happen, allow me to take a moment to say "you. were. so. right.", and then some.

Going back to that classy curtain hanging in our bedroom right now, it's the bane of my existence currently. I swore I'd never have a push pin, makeshift, curtain in any bedroom of mine and then I moved to a place where the sun rises straight into my bedroom window and my tone quickly changed. Not to mention, Bear has had a total of 2 days off of work since I got here so getting man help to hang things I'm not patient enough to hang, and put bigger things together that I've probably already fucked up trying to do by myself, hasn't been an option. Yet.

Our upstairs neighbors vacuum twice a day and this is no exaggeration. It's by far the most bizarre thing I've yet to encounter and people here eat things like elk so obviously there are a lot of bizarre things to encounter here. Really though, who needs to vacuum two times a day? I don't even vacuum two times a week. Then again, I'm not exactly in the running to be the new and improved Ms. Clean so I guess that's not really saying much. Either way, it sounds like a lot of work and I'm fighting many urges to ask said neighbors what exactly it is that they're vacuuming all of the time.

Maybe they just got a really cool new vacuum that they want to play with? Granted the pink Swiffer Bear got me that I was really excited about is still in it's packaging hiding in the closet.

I'm still lost pretty much always, though I'm able to find my way to the post office and to Whole Foods, which is the only thing keeping me from sobbing constantly about the lack of Publix stores in this state. I had a minor meltdown last night trying to figure out how to wrap a scarf around me and I'm pretty sure there was a moment or two when I actually got lost within said scarf. I get the scarf tutorials on Pinterest now, I totally get them. Well, I don't GET them, get them, but I understand why they exist and perhaps one of these days I will figure out one of them.

Aside from lack of decor and really any normalcy in my life right now, I feel like I found a sense of what being a real big kid is all about the other day. I wanted some classic blue box mac and cheese, Spongebob shapes of course, but as always when I crave such a thing I never know if I have enough butter to substitute for the milk I inevitably never have. This time was different, however, this time I not only had enough butter... I had MILK too. Talk about your ultimate big kid win.

Doing big things here in Denver. Big things, indeed.
Speaking of doing big things, this is how I found Sir after her morning walk and breakfast today. And you thought my having ingredients for boxed mac and cheese was big.

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Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Where Am I?

I never really realized how convenient knowing exactly where just about everything in town is until I moved across the country. The truth is, I'm one of the most directionally challenged individuals you'll ever meet in your life. On the very first day of my junior year of high school I drove myself to school for the first time, the school was no more than 10 minutes from my parents' house. Somewhere around 5 minutes into my commute I called my mom panicking because I was lost and didn't know where the road to school was.

Also the only app on my phone at the time was Snake and as far as I know that probably would have gotten me more lost than I already was.

Back to the phone call with my mom, she asked me what roads I was at so she could help get me back on track. I answer her with the name of the main road I was traveling on, to which she replied "that's the road your school is on". And so that's when we realized I can't find my way out of a paper bag.

Fast forward about 10 years from that phone call and I pretty much have navigating through Orlando down to a science, plus the drive to and from Tallahassee. Naturally I moved to unfamiliar Colorado because what fun is knowing where you are and not getting lost all of the time?

I've only driven a few places through town, usually to meet up with Sami or find myself some food. Mostly I just hand the keys over and say "Bear'sus take the wheel". Because there's no denying he's way better at directions than me, also he doesn't go full blown anxiety attack when he doesn't know where he is. So that's a nice change of pace from when I'm panicking behind the wheel.

The optimistic part of this story lives somewhere around the other day when I made a trip to Walmart and missed my turn on the way home. I missed my turn because it was a really, really clear day and there were these ginormous, postcard-like, mountains with perfect amounts of snow sitting on the tops of them, right in front of me. Obviously then I did what any vehicle safety conscience person did, I busted out my camera phone and took as many pictures as I could until there was one that I could send my friends that would do those big beauties some sort of justice.

It was around then I realized that getting lost isn't so bad when you've got all of these really big and new things to look at. I almost kept driving aimlessly towards them but I was low on gas and also Bear wasn't with me to take cool mountain pictures with me and obviously that's a really important thing to do when you go to mountains. Or at least that's what I've gathered from the depths of Instagram. 

Either way, I still have Florida tags on my car for now so that makes for a really, really good excuse for my shit driving (see also: completely lost and don't know where I am so I'm going slow so I don't get more lost). I guess once I change my tags over I'm shit out of luck. 

Or maybe I'll get a bumper sticker made that reads something like, "Directionally challenged driver. New to town and most likely lost." 

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