...because it's true

Funny quote of the day:

"Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes." - Jim Carey

Funnier quote of the day:

"Behind every great man is a great woman putting up with his farts." - Jason Mraz

Candidacy Essay

A friend reminded me recently that I hadn't ever posted my final essay. I'm really pleased with how it turned out - I put a ton of time and energy into it, and I think the result is authentic. Without further adieu...

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“He poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.” – John 13:5

During my second summer on staff at Sky Ranch Lutheran Camp, our Wednesday night worship included a foot washing modeled after the story in John 13. Staff members took turns washing campers’ feet at a basin on the floor near a makeshift altar. The ceremony was at once beautiful and bizarre for both the spectator and the participant. Each week, kids confirmed that it was an incredible experience for them, and yet so foreign. Their camp counselor washed their feet! They could identify with the awkwardness felt by Jesus’ disciples as Jesus sat on the floor before them. Maybe campers could begin to see the staff as Jesus’ presence in their lives.

The foot washing is one of my favorite stories. Jesus demonstrates so much love, and as usual, his method catches his disciples completely off-guard. As we know, foot washing was a rather mundane act in Jesus’ time; his disciples were not shocked by the gesture, but by the person who offered it. I think today that’s akin to throwing a dinner party in Jesus’ honor, only to have our Lord jump up from the table and wash the dishes. His disciples would be surprised and probably embarrassed; Peter would say, “No no, Jesus, let me get that, you sit down.” We would feel both blessed and confused, but it wouldn’t cause the discomfort we imagine when we think of Jesus touching our tired, dirty feet. Often, in our foot washing at camp, kids wouldn’t participate because of the insecurity they felt about their feet. If we translate the metaphor – if we teach kids to serve each other by washing each other’s dishes – the message is clear. In John 13:15, Jesus says, “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” In a simple act of service, by scraping our plates, Jesus would show us how to love each other.

Many people, places, and events have shaped my own foot washing story. I was born on December 21, 1984, in Fort Collins, Colorado, the first child of my young parents. About a week later, I became the first baby baptized at Spirit of Joy Lutheran Church.

I was soon joined by a sister and two brothers – Courtney, now 23; Jeff, now 20; and Christian, who just turned 16. Courtney, my best friend and just 15 months my junior, studies social work at Colorado State University. Jeff is a Hospitality major at Front Range Community College in Fort Collins; he is one of the funniest, most articulate people I know, and the older we get, the better we get along. Christian doesn’t say much, but he is very bright, and he is truly one of my favorite people. My parents, Rick and Julie, are a study in contrast. Where my dad is steady and methodical, my mom is passionate and a little impulsive. Dad’s a thinker; Mom’s a talker. Dad drove a truck, and Mom bought a Prius. In their divine partnership, they don’t balance each other; rather, they complement each other. Each sees the other as the more important part of their relationship.

Jeff and Christian were both born with Fragile X Syndrome, a genetic disorder on the autistic spectrum. Christian also has Down’s syndrome. He is non-verbal, and his disabilities manifest themselves in an aggressive behavioral disorder. Because of the care he requires, Christian now lives in a group home. Raising children with intellectual disabilities is overwhelmingly difficult, yet my parents took every measure to ensure that all four of us had typical childhoods. Because of this, and the time we’ve spent together in the trenches of stress, we’ve gotten the best of both worlds – normal-kid experiences, plus an emotional interconnectedness unparalleled by any family I know. It shimmers. We’ve united through our unique experience; we all take turns washing each other’s feet. Truly, honestly, our family bond has shaped me into the person I am today.

I was raised in Spirit of Joy. Our family worshiped every Sunday, and I was confirmed there in May 2000. Because there was no youth group at my church, the only time I engaged with other Lutheran kids was the week I spent at Sky Ranch every summer.

Camp made me feel alive. I loved my counselors. I loved sleeping in cabins and helping clean dishes. I loved singing songs at worship, overcoming my paralyzing fear of the high ropes course, and walking through the woods at night. I made friends from faraway states with whom I still keep in touch. Camp, although just six days long, set the stage for my whole year. It was like an intensive retreat where I was re-baptized into the body of believers, and for the 12 months that followed I could go there in my mind and be reaffirmed in my faith. But that was it for me; other than Sky Ranch, my faith was stagnant.

For much of high school and college, I had something like cotton brain. Looking back, I see how I puttered through life, putting minimal thought into major decisions. In school, for example, I always did my homework on time, but I rarely studied for exams. Few things truly affected me, with the distinct exception of my experience on staff at Sky Ranch. For five summers – as kitchen staff, then a Mountain School Instructor, then the ropes course coordinator, and finally as the community director – I delved into the experience. I read, and I thought, and I ran, and I asked questions, and I played guitar and stayed up late and woke up early and scrubbed the floor and swam in the river. God was in every ounce of it. I had my feet washed, and I washed those of my friends. Living, working and playing in community – especially a community of Lutherans – changed my life.

During my second summer at camp, Joel Abenth – my boss, the program director at Sky Ranch – asked me to facilitate the adult Bible study we held each morning for our pastors and sponsors. Since I had never participated in a Bible study, I hesitated, but Joel said he needed someone “who liked to drink coffee and talk about God,” and I definitely fit that bill. Despite my reluctance, I loved it. I relished the chance to pick the brains of both doctors of philosophy and Nebraska farmers. It awed me that a conversation about John 1:1 could be completely different every week for two months. It felt like barebones faith, like it was exactly what Jesus wanted us to do – to gather together and trade ideas, and then share a prayer of thanksgiving that God had brought us into that fellowship. Our varied backgrounds shaped our faiths, and through dialogue we fostered further growth within each other.

Through college, every Wednesday night, I taught confirmation to seven girls at Spirit of Joy – Catie, Courtney, Elke, Kayla, Olivia, Stacey and Tonya. Each week we spent a couple of hours together sitting on the floor of the sanctuary. Sometimes we’d plunge into the lesson, and sometimes we’d just talk about life, but no matter the topic I always felt better for the energy and love the girls committed to me. When one of them was struggling, we’d cry together; in equal measure, we celebrated each other’s triumphs. Over those four years, I was supposed to teach them about Martin Luther, but more often than not we were confronted with life lessons – divorce, suicide, even just bad grades. In the foot washing story, Jesus says, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Now I realize that by helping the girls work through these lessons, I was learning them myself.

My college experience was marked by unprecedented learning and personal growth. It was also fraught with stress, as I struggled through my chosen field of study. I declared a major in Biochemistry, intending to follow a path to medical school, but before long it became clear that science was not my forte. It seemed like no matter how hard I studied, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the material – big concepts or small. For years I felt disheartened. I pressured myself to persevere, but for most of school I barely had my head above water. I threw myself into areas where I could be successful – I volunteered; I worked a part-time job; I was the founding secretary of the Biochemistry Club and planned all of its functions. I put medical school out of my mind, and I implored God to please speak up and tell me what, exactly, I was supposed to do with my life.

At my graduation, having earned a degree I didn't feel I'd achieved and with very little idea of how to move forward, I decided to think more radically: I prayed harder, and started planning a solo trek through Europe for the month after camp ended. I was certain God would clearly show me my path on a night train somewhere between Belgium and Switzerland. I wanted Holy Spirit bullets! Fortunately, God had other plans for me that summer. Since I was broke and Europe wasn’t really an option, I looked elsewhere for God’s call. Pastor Brian Bergum, our camp Chaplain, constantly nagged me to consider seminary. I didn’t feel a call to ordination, but Pastor Bergum thought God would eventually point me there. In my journal, I wrote of “a desperation for Christ – a longing I have never experienced before. A breakthrough of sorts. An ache so deep that only God could be any sort of help.” At this point, I was trying to listen, and God was talking. I just wasn’t quite ready to embrace the answer.

To my great fortune, God is persistent. Because I was resisting, I think God started to say the same things in different ways, and finally I’m beginning to understand the message. Right now, I don’t feel a strong call to a particular ministry. I consider this a blessing, because I feel even more open to the needs of the whole church. I feel a call to seminary: I want to study theology and get a Master’s degree in Divinity. Looking ahead, I see myself teaching at the collegiate level. I am open to – and maybe even hopeful for –the change and flexibility of this plan. I think that Jesus, in his infinite wisdom and wacky sense of humor, led me down this meandering path specifically so that my busy mind had more time to process the glory of God’s great plan. I feel like Peter, and God is still saying, “Later you will understand.” I see seminary not as the “be all, end all,” but as the next in the series of steps that is God’s will for my life. Although the plan is vague, I am confident that God will point me in the right direction when the time comes.

Last fall, I flew to Dubuque to attend the Conference on Ministry at Wartburg Seminary. The weekend was really one big conversation about discerning our call, and I realized God had given me a multitude of internal and external signs of mine. For example, over my tenure at camp, a number of pastors told me variations of “If med school doesn’t work out, you really ought to consider seminary” – an external sign. Because these comments seemed obscure at the time, I categorically dismissed them. I saw my love for the girls in my confirmation class as an internal sign. The students and faculty at Wartburg answered my questions and encouraged my discernment; they washed my feet. Flying back to Colorado, I knew a theological education was in my future.

By this point, I had plans to move to Aspen to be a ski instructor for the winter – the last in a footpath of steps toward independence. Packing my car on Thanksgiving, I made sure to take all of my candidacy files – applications, viewbooks, contact information and the like. But after a month in the mountains, I got cold feet thinking about going back to school. My whole existence was so stress-free (and fun!); the thought of being a student again made me anxious. I was Peter, telling Jesus, “You’ll never wash my feet!” I didn’t get it yet – I thought that God had the plan all wrong, that I should stay put for one more year.

My own plan pacified me for six months before I felt Jesus saying, “Unless I wash you, you won’t be part of what I’m doing.” The anxiety I felt thinking about returning to school became anxiety over not going back. So I read theology. I found myself in long “God conversations,” sometimes about the relationship between Jesus and Peter. My boss ensured I always had Sundays off – another external sign – and every week I drove the 49 miles to Good Shepherd in Glenwood Springs, the closest ELCA church to Aspen. I decided to get back in shape by training for a marathon, because my body and mind weren't in tune. Just like at camp, I read, and I wrote in my journal, and I prayed, and God was in it all. Little by little, I grew so excited about the future.

This brings me here: 24 years old, ecstatic to be alive and truly blessed beyond all reason. My people – my family, whom I adore; my relatives; my wonderful and extensive network of friends and peers and colleagues – enrich my life to a greater degree than I ever thought possible. Between working, running regularly, and really exploring my surroundings (hiking, biking, skiing and lots of travel), I have created a life that fulfills me. Making myself happy, healthy, and financially independent has shown me that I’ll be able to do that wherever I end up. Looking back on my life, I see the path that led me here; looking forward, the path I see leads to seminary. My eyes are wide with anticipation, and I'm ready and excited to move forward.

"But I feel like I'm on the surface of the sun!!"

Tourist season is upon us again here in the Valley. We (my roommates, friends, the people with whom I ride the bus) are back to the busy schedule - working 7 days a week (and many of those are double shifts); fielding questions from people who stop us in the street (something about us must scream "SHE LIVES HERE"); hoarding Emergen-C (in the hopes of warding off inevitable colds); hardly sleeping at all. Restaurants have waits. City Market is out of things. The people-watching is out of control.
A friend of mine in college, JKM, spent his summers in Pagosa Springs as a raft guide and waiter at the local steakhouse. He used to joke about having to paddle fat tourists down the river, and then turn around and serve them huge steaks at night...thus shooting himself in the foot. I think my winter is sort of similar, except in reverse: I get to ski with kids all day and then turn around and babysit them at night. If I've done my first job well enough - and the kids are sufficiently wiped out from skiing - then my second one is a breeze.
This week we had a BILLION kids at the Treehouse. My friend IY is just like Mitch Hedberg, except still alive and with Cuban heritage. Together we taught 24 never-evers on Sunday, and it was awesome - we had that magic carpet running like an assembly line. I had to be at the Ute on Monday, but I had many of the same kids again Tuesday-Thursday, and they were a) well-behaved, b) really good skiers (I had them at Level 4+ by the time I was done on Thursday), and c) pretty funny. One of them fed me the line that is the title of this post. I'd forgotten how much FUN it is to teach skiing to these kids.
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My bracket doesn't totally suck this year. Of course I'd picked Nova and Notre Dame to both go into the 3rd round, and NO one saw Murray State coming, but otherwise I'm faring much better than I have in recent years. I have Syracuse taking it all in one bracket - which is probably not going to happen - and Kentucky in the other. (I hate everything about Kansas.)
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So long story short: I had to chip all the ice off the sidewalks in front of the Ute today, and I was thrilled about it. It occurred to me - whilst I was chipping away - that there exists at the Ute an air of non-machismo amongst my coworkers. I work with all dudes (there's one other girl, KH, but we work exactly opposite schedules, so she doesn't count), and there is no question that they see me as an equal. They put me through the ringer. Outpost was an amazing place to work, but it was deeply sexist: in 6 years there, I never had the chance to sell a pair of skis, and I never took out the trash, and none of the male employees there had to input the information from a rental form in the computer database. The Ute is special. I can't play the girl card. I think that's how it should be everywhere.

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My roommate AB's Argentine boyfriend left today. I'm heartbroken, both for her and for me. He's a good egg, and they were a good match, and I liked hanging out with him and I liked who she was when he was around. I know she's going to be hurting in the next few weeks, and I don't like to see her sad. I also don't like to think about the fact that I'll probably never see him again. It's a big world - one in which we all move around a lot - and although I plan on living well into my 10th decade, I suppose it's fair to assume our paths won't cross again. My path also won't cross with my dear friend GC, the South African lifty from last season with whom I spent a ton of time, and with whom I still talk. I guess this speech is a way of saying: I'm thankful that God put these people in my life, and I'm wicked thankful for Facebook.

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My coworker and friend CM is funny. We work at the Ute on the same days, and he has a job in Snowmass the same days that I'm there, so we end up with a lot of face time, which means: we're so comfortable with each other that we act like siblings. Another guy at the Ute calls us the Twins. We get along well...most of the time. CM thinks I'm "crazy" (his word - he means "eccentric," not "unstable"), and he's crafting a list of reasons why: I'm a germaphobe; I love statistics; I say things he finds ridiculous. Anyway, he wears his shoes a full TWO AND A HALF SIZES too small, so really, he can't throw stones. But as we were having a conversation about this the other day, he said this, and I found it funny enough to write down: "It feels so much more...aggressive. Agile. You think ninjas wear their shoes a size bigger?!"

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I always pray when I wake up in the morning. Lately it's been mostly: "Thank you for loving me even though I'm such a screwup. Please help me to not suck so much today, and to love other people as much as you love me."
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Katie gets home today! She's been in Scotland for 11 days for a school spring break trip, and I am absolutely losing my mind without her. It's almost embarrassing how often I've texted/FBed her even though I know she can't respond and won't get any of my messages until she's back on American soil. On a typical day, we talk about every two and a half hours, MAX. I can't cope right now.
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A woman was in the Ute the other day, and she caught me texting (my mom of all people) from behind the counter. She told me this story: she's an administrator at a high school in Texas. There are 2300 students at her school. They have a no-texting policy in place, and they charge $15/infraction when kids are caught breaking the rule. So far this year - just since September, mind you - the school has collected $7,000 in fines!!! I asked her what they used the money for, and she said, "Oh, it goes toward the greater good." She told me that they host a big luncheon for all the teachers at the end of the year. I think that's awesome.
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Chaco makes dog leashes now! I mean, why wouldn't they? That's two of my favorite things in one - yellow labs and quality webbing.
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So my friend ES works at the Nastar race course at Snowmass. There are big shacks at the top and bottom of the course, and they're heated, so he keeps his ski boots there overnight. He told me this story: The other day, at the start of his shift, he put his ski boots on. One boot felt weird, so he tried to ignore it, but after a moment he somehow came to the conclusion that there was a MOUSE in his boot! He called a couple of kids over to him - they were in ski school and about to race - and said, "Watch this!" and took his boot off and dumped it over. All three of them watched a terrified little mouse go sprinting across the snow toward the trees. :)

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Happy Vernal Equinox!

The life and times of Firecracker Girl

What a month it's been.

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Where did I last leave off? The rest of our San Francisco trip was amazing. Of course, the girls and I could go to Detroit or Fargo or somewhere equally loathsome and have the time of our lives, but still...the trip was amazing. We laughed so hard we cried; we rode the trolleys until we actually knew our way around the city; we ate out A LOT. (Dim Sum, by the by, was disgusting.) When we take these trips, I get the feeling from the people around us that they're not only jealous of our tradition but also jealous of our relationship with each other, and I think that's valid. I'm so blessed to have these cousin-sisters.
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My other August Adventures:
-I hiked Mount of the Holy Cross with my buddy MM (my best friend in Aspen this summer) - his first 14er, my third. As the peak is outside Vail, we camped at the trailhead the night before and got an early start. It was a long day - 14ish miles and an elevation gain of almost 8,000' - and we polished off the hike at DELICIOUS Larkburger in Edwards. (I think that should be its real name - "DELICIOUS Larkburger".)

Our peak

On top of the world

The best organic cheeseburger and truffle fries in the universe

-The week after that, MM and me and two other friends from the Ute hiked the Lincoln Group, a collection of four 14ers (Democrat, Cameron, Lincoln & Bross) that can easily be bagged in a day. We had fun (I have fun pretty much everywhere I go), and it wasn't really worth writing about.
-A couple of weeks later, AJS joined MM and I to hike Mount Elbert, the tallest 14er in Colorado. We intended to hike Mount Massive, Elbert's neighbor, specifically because a Black Hawk crashed on its summit just a few days prior to our hike, but we found the trailhead taped off and decided not to mess with the military. That hike, too, wasn't notable, but we had burgers afterwards and had a great day.
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KH & SD's wedding - Salt Lake City, Labor Day weekend
To be blunt, I've been looking forward to this weekend since approximately September 2004. KH is my best friend from college - someone I refer to as my brother, all hyperbole aside - and his dear wife has been by his side since their junior year of high school, so there was never much question of if they'd marry, only when. The really grand part of the weekend was being back in the company of my people, my truly best friends - KH of course, plus AJS, BB and KK. The latter 3, Courto and myself shared a hotel room that was next door to one shared by some other pals of ours, so we spent the long weekend as a 10-some. The Residence Inn, it should be said, is a fabulous establishment. For $89 a night - a mere 20 bucks a pop after taxes - all of us broke postgrads had a spacious suite (with enough bathroom space to prepare for a wedding, natch), a pool and hot tub, a grill, a full breakfast each morning, a stocked kitchen bigger than the one in my apartment, internet access and a gym (which we actually used). Using the hotel as home base, we came and went all weekend - KK and I ran down the bike path; AJS and the other boys did their groomsmen thing; all of us went to Snowbird for the afternoon, then checked out the Temple the next day. It was especially clutch to have a big place on Sunday night, when we watched YOUR Colorado State University Rams destroy the CU Fluffs with standard creature comforts (Papa Murphy's and Fat Tire) not usually afforded in college-student-unfriendly Sandy, UT.
Anyhoo, here's the weekend in pictures:

As soon as BB landed, AJS appropriated his attire. SO funny.

BB and myself at the reception (note the merlot):
BB with, from left, JN, best man MG's girlfriend KD and JT (KH's fraternity brothers)
We went Aunt Karen a drink text of this picture:

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That brings us to the present. Currently I'm training my buns off (literally) for the Golden Leaf Half Marathon from Snowmass to Aspen this Saturday. I'm psyched - I haven't been in shape in a long time, and it feels really good to have my running legs back. I figured out that I have free yoga videos on Comcast OnDemand, so I've been doing yoga every night before bed, too, and drinking water like a fiend. I have a happy body.
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A couple of Unexpected Sparks:
-The title of this blog comes from the nickname MM christened me with: Firecracker Girl. He was amazed at how much crap I could pack into a day, and how uncomfortable it made me to sit around. I found the moniker more than endearing. I hope it sticks.
-It snowed at my apartment yesterday.
-My fantasy football team is OWNING the league right now. My team name: The New Sheriff in Town. Peyton Manning is so money.
-Part of why I love summer is the reading time it affords. In the last week, I've cranked through Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer, Sports Nutrition for Endurance Athletes by Monique Ryan, Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Nhat Hanh and Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist, in addition to about a dozen magazines (two months' worth of Outside, National Geographic Adventure, Real Simple, Glamour and Marie Claire).

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As it is the autumnal equinox, I leave you with a parting shot that sums up my summer:

"You have the opposite of poker face. You have, like, miniature golf face." - Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

I won't back down, either.

I know I need a new post, and as it's almost the end of May, there's a big one coming soon. This couldn't wait.

Keep Well

So the season is over, and at the risk of being melodramatic - I guess that's always a small risk with me - I'm devastated. I'm so, so sad. I have the same feeling as I have leaving camp, except I'm not completely wrung out yet, and because most of my friends are from foreign countries and likely won't get visas next year, there's a good chance I'll never see most of them again. Ever.

It's cliché, but as Amanda reminded me yesterday, we don't cry because it's over, we smile because it happened. In my case, it's both - I'm really happy it happened but I'm still gonna ugly cry for a few days.

This past week was a total whirlwind. I think I'll be easiest to write about each day individually.
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Wednesday, April 8
Wednesday is No Work Day, so I slept in, ran some errands with AB in Aspen, had a latte (my only day-off "must"), did two loads of laundry, read three magazines, drove to Snowmass to play volleyball at the rec center, came home to shower and spontaneously went to a bluegrass show at the Belly Up with AB and our friend AS, whom AB is working with in Chile this summer. We had a rad super-hippie-dancing night.

Thursday, April 9
As it was Maundy Thursday, I planned the day around a drive to Glenwood for church at 7pm. There aren't any ELCA Lutheran churches anywhere between here and there; for that matter, there are only 2 between Grand Junction and Denver. Church was wicked cool - fun pastor, lots of teenagers, great liturgy (in one night we were annointed with oil AND had a footwashing AND Communion). It was like an hour-long deep breath of fresh air. When I left, I met AB, BK, GC & JH at a fantastic Pan-Asian restaurant in Basalt for dinner. We had this great adult meal - a bottle of red wine, three appetizers and four entrees, and we shared everything. Everyone just took chopsticks and we passed the plates around. I loved it. We talked and talked, and I reminded AB that perhaps a month earlier she had made some derogatory comment about lifties...but now they were our best buddies. Hah.

Friday, April 10
I had a private lesson with a 5-going-on-35-year-old little lady (at one point she literally said, 'This is how I roll, bitches!' Of course I scolded her...); I ended up with this bruise
but I'm not dead, so whatever. Katie pulled the 2009 equivalent of showing up on my front door by texting me on her way out of the Springs to tell me she was coming for the weekend (which THRILLED me!!!!). We had this mammoth dinner party planned at Jared, CK & AL's house. DR's roommate is a chef at The Little Nell (Gucci, Gucci, Gucci), so 27 of us (!) chipped in $20 to have a 10-course meal prepared for us. It was RIDICULOUSLY good - we're talking gourmet food. The sixth course, for example, was a "quail lollipop" consisting of a quail drumstick stuffed with a marcona almond & apricot paste wrapped in Spanish prosciutto. Yeah. Delicious. Appropriately enough, we washed it down with plenty of really really cheap red wine.

(Not a good shot, obviously...but better than nothing.)

Saturday, April 11
I had a half-day private lesson with some famous little British girls, then spent the afternoon at Ink! Coffee with Katie reading magazines and drinking lattes while it rained outside. (It was such a wicked cool afternoon that as I write this, I'm jealous of myself.) Katie and I went to the Easter Vigil at Good Shepard in Glenwood (that service was so cool, it deserves its own post), had dinner at Qdoba & came home to watch Slumdog Millionaire...during which I immediately fell asleep. Whoops.

Sunday, April 12
Easter service in the morning with Katie = awesome. The sermon was phenomenal (Pastor JC's sermon was so cheeky - he included long-running jokes about Monty Python & "Jesus gettin' up in your grill!"), and lots of people personally welcomed us. Everyone was in jeans and carrying coffee cups, but we were still glad to have dressed up. Instead of the usual massive Easter brunch we usually share with family, we dropped by McDonalds and had Egg McMuffins and coffee before Katie headed home and I headed to work. It'll probably be one of my favorite Easters ever.
The rest of the day = completely anticlimactic. Oh, and it was the last day of the season.

Monday, April 13
Employee Party. I would say "enough said," except it's not.
I got into work at around 10 and met up with AT, RS, DP, JF, AL, AB & RB. We grabbed cans of Tecate (sorry Mom) and headed up the lift. Snowmass was only open for employees, which was really freakin' cool, because everywhere you looked, there were only good skiers on the hill, and we knew most of them. And the snow was amazing! We ripped a bunch of powder turns before heading to the lunch/party/pond skim zone after a couple of hours. THAT was a riot - lots and lots of good food, lots and lots of free beer, lots and lots of sunshine, lots and lots of people, and then, finally, lots and lots of opportunity to make a fool out of ourselves.
Exhibit A:

(I have no idea how I made it through the pond at that angle. No idea.)

Exhibit B:

(AB bites it)

Exhibit C:

(This was just a bad idea from the start)

After the party, AB and I did our usual rounds - Zane's to play with the lifties, JF/AL/CK's house to play with our friends (except it kinda turned into The Napping House for a bit), etc. After a billion hours of laying around, AB and I went to say our goodbyes - we hugged the lifties and the rest of our friends at the house, went to the Commons to wake up GC and BW, then drove home in tears. (Well, I was in tears. I'm sure AB was crying on the inside.)
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GC sent me a text the next morning that said something like, "Thanks for coming round last night. Keep in touch, thanks for everything. Your friendship means a lot to me. :) Gonna miss everyone but we'll meet up in the future. Was an unbelievable season, loved it. Keep well, safe travels."

Thoughts along CO-131

I've done a lot of driving during the last month (200+ miles twice a week, actually - no exaggeration), and before each trip I've taken, a great many people have told me to drive safely. Think about that. I think it's incredibly kind. When someone tells you to drive safely, they're acknowledging that driving anywhere is inherently risky and expressing concern for your well-being. Drive safely.
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There are some really pretty back roads between Aspen and Steamboat - wide, snowy, open valleys with two-lane highways curving through them. I'm baffled that so much pretty country has existed right out my back door for so long and I've only just discovered it.
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Upon further consideration, I'm now totally sure - adamant even - that I have no New Year's resolutions. I don't need any. I'm totally satisfied with life, so as long as I keep living it like this, I don't see any need for intentional changes. There's just one thing I want to prioritize throughout 2009: I want to take every reasonable measure to spend time with the people I love. It may sound hokey but it's important to me.

Happy Thanksgiving.

I have much to be thankful for.

*First and foremost, I'm thankful for my family. Every day I'm more amazed that God put the six of us together, especially when we're such different people. We complement and challenge and inspire the best in each other, though, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
This year I've grown incredibly close with all of my cousins, too, and I'm grateful that we live in a day and age when our relationships are able to grow stronger even though so much distance separates us. (It helps to have good texting rates.) I don't know what I would do without Katie or Amy; most people aren't as close with their sisters as I am with these girls. I'm ecstatic that Katie's almost home.
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I'm so thankful for the relationships I have with my friends. As I get older I have more people in my life whom I genuinely love, the kinds of inner-circle friends I can count on for anything. I don't remember having those relationships when I was younger (or not as many of them). When AJS & I broke up in May, BB came to my house when I wouldn't get out of bed, crawled in next to me, held my head in his hands and promised me I'd be okay...with his and KH's help. He was right, and I know that any of my best friends would have done and said the same thing. People tease me when I say that I have so many "best" friends - I've even made a joke of it myself - but it's true. I mean it. And I'm lucky.
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I'm thankful that my parents support my decisions. I'm taking a year-long break from real life and moving to Aspen, and my parents couldn't be more excited for me. They should be upset with me for squandering time/money/my education on self-indulgent living, but they're not. I'm lucky.
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I'm thankful for all of my "littles":
the 3 S family girls I babysit, the oldest of whom refers to me as her "other sister";
AB, the original little brother;
CF (second from left), my little sister through and through.
I'm so grateful for their presence in my life - their energy, their perspective, their personalities. Their problems. Their hope.
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I'm thankful for weathering the storm that was my breakup with AJS. We both are. Parts of this year were total shit, but we've come to a place where we can look back on what was and be both grateful for it and at peace with it. We have gone our separate ways; we recognize that separating was the right decision, and we remain committed friends. I couldn't ask for anything more.
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I'm thankful for the many, many opportunities that lie before me.
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I'm thankful for my health - the fact that I can get up and run 4 miles with my parents, the fact that I can ski my butt off for a whole season without much preparation - and that my family remains healthy.
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I'm so thankful for CC. I would be in awe of him even if I wasn't dating him. He's incredibly caring and funny and wicked smart and sweet and patient and loyal and articulate and genuine. He knows what's important and acts with integrity, and by some happy little miracle he seems to find me tolerable, even worthwhile. He has terrible taste in music but a huge heart, and I'm truly blessed to have him in my life.
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I'm thankful for a spirit of adventure. And for my church. They're kind of related.
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I'm so excited for the future. I feel like God has blessed me especially richly this year, so it's my responsibility to go forth and do good things in the world. I'm nervous, but I'm ready.

Improvise, Adapt & Overcome

I've come to the realization that I'm never going to get caught up (per se) in this sucker, and the more time that passes between entries the more anxious I get trying to remember everything I need to write about. BAH. Obviously stress over the blog is the antithesis, the literal counterpoint, of its existence, so I'm just going to write as much as I can, stream of consciousness-style, before I fall dead asleep at the keyboard.

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I'm going to have nightmares about corrugated cardboard tonight, I just know it.
At work this evening, I was scheduled to help with the Christmas promo set-up - from 5pm-1:30pm, JM, my boss HB, the district manager JF and I were assigned to take down all of the Thanksgiving stuff and put up new holiday merchandise. Sounds simple enough, right? Bloody wrong. Of course. I mean, Starbucks does nothing in a small way. Suffice it to say that I tore down cardboard boxes until my fingers were bleeding (we're talking somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 coffee cup-sized boxes) and I'm a little bitter about it.
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Courtney cracks me up. It thrills me when she gets indignant, especially because most of the time it's over really really stupid stuff - and it doesn't happen very often - but it's incredibly comical.
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I came to a Ralph Lauren-induced realization of myself last week: I LOVE ruffles. Sweaters, tank tops, skirts, boots, whatever - hell, I'd probably buy a pair of sweatpants if they had ruffles on the butt. I swear to the Lord on high (AJS: that was for you), the Ralph Lauren outlet in Silverthorne is the closest thing to purgatory I've ever found. (Admittedly because I'm Lutheran I don't really get the whole purgatory thing, but from what I've heard, I think it's an accurate description.)
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Enough said, right?
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I am woefully unprepared for Aspen right now, and it's going to be a long 48 hours because of it. Packing needs to become my bitch, and that's just not feasible given tomorrow's holiday. Oy.
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I'm PUMPED for the Turkey Trot tomorrow. Good grief, it's going to hurt since I'm so out of shape and it's already so late (therefore very little sleep tonight), but it's an annual high school reunion. Who knows who I'm going to see - especially after a fall like I've had?! Speaking of which, part of the fun of being with CC is running into people I haven't talked to since junior high - ST, KW and the like. And I love people, so this is good.

Oh, I believe!

Wow, what a stimulating weekend!
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Thursday was, of course, brilliant. I very much enjoyed cooking; I very much enjoyed hosting my friends; I very much enjoyed laughing and drinking and carving and relaxing with many of my favorite people in one room. Henri B. Stendhal wrote that "to describe happiness is to diminish it," and for that very reason I'm not going to write another word about it.
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Friday was odd, mostly because I slept for 3 hours before getting up - at 3am - to work. Sleeping for ALL of Sunday and Monday + napping on Thursday night = a very confused Kelsey. I felt like most of Friday afternoon my body was kind of like, "Seriously? Seriously?! What the hell are you doing?!" I rallied in the evening, which led to three distinct interactions: a) a delightful long-distance phone date with MH; b) an awkward (and short) stop by JN's birthday party; and c) a beer date at the Crown Pub with LM. The last one was a treasure - we decided (over a particularly inspirational Easy Street, natch) to take an extended trip to southeast Asia next summer, volunteering and traveling together throughout Laos, Thailand, Vietnam and maybe Indonesia. And we mean it. (I don't think it really hurt matters that CN was working. For some reason, watching him wash glasses inspires me to live a more adventurous life. :) )
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Yesterday was kind of a bust, and more than anything I want to talk about today. Just a couple of notes first:
a) The Rams won, the Huskers won, and the Buffs got DESTROYED. Huzzah!
b) LY's homecoming party was pleasant. Honestly, it made me really miss AJS. And I had a decent conversation with JG and LY's new girlfriend about how and why some guys act very differently around their girlfriends than they do in normal society.
c) I stayed up obnoxiously late for NO reason. Stupid. Stupid.
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To make a long story short, I skipped Christian's confirmation this morning to see Barack Obama speak at the CSU oval. (The thought process going into that decision affords its own blog entry. Look for that later.) I went as a guest of LT with him, his parents and many of his wonderful friends, and the day as a whole was extraordinary. It wasn't life-changing, but it was definitely once-in-a-lifetime.
I showed up at LT's house around 10:15 armed with a 4-shot Americano and my standard attire (blue Patagonia fleece and Chaco flipflops). Unbeknownst to me, he had assembled a veritable army of Obama supporters, and a few moments later I was Oval-bound with LT, his parents, his roommate BB and BB's mom, the girls KS and KB and KB's boyfriend SH, NP, her mom, and her boyfriend JS, and GD and his brother. Things were awkward for about 16 seconds when I realized that everyone there had known each other since fourth grade and I was "oh, THAT girl!" whom the whole group knew a LOT about (thanks LT), but everyone was warm and friendly so the awkwardness passed.
When we got to the front of the library we were joined by SK, his dad DK and his girlfriend MD. JH - whose relationship with LT KS and I speculated on all day, but never nailed down - was our connection for getting to stand in the bleachers, so we found him just as he was briefing the group. Obviously we had a big crowd, but we were part of a much larger group (maybe 300 people), so as JH read our names off of a list we stepped forward for our gold stars. From there, we walked down University Ave to the special spot where people with gold stars were supposed to wait for security checks and more briefing. (They told us that because we were going to be on TV they were going to "arrange us" on the bleachers according to what would look the most attractive behind The Man.)
At this point we waaaaaiiiiited. And waited. And waited. We got to the corner of University and West (just south of the oval) at about 11:10am and we didn't move until 2:50pm. Needless to say it was a long, long, long wait, and it was rather cold outside and we were rather bored and hungry. Mercifully the anticipation of standing directly behind our next president was enough to suppress most of our small irritations. Once we decided that we couldn't order pizza to the corner of University & West because of the insane Secret Service presence, the boys + NP + LT's dad played hacky sack while KS and I chatted up LT's mom. (At one point we had her in tears after telling her how much we love him. It was sweet.) Parts of the group came and went; LT and his parents and I spent about an hour snuggled up in the grass trying to stay warm. I saw LM and her parents, and I started feeling REALLY anxious because LM said that Obama was running 1.5 hours late due to travel delays - and since I knew I was working at 5, I thought I was going to miss him altogether (after having waited 4 hours to see him AND skipping my own brother's confirmation!). Alas, my anxieties were all in vain.
Once they started moving us through security and up to the bleachers, announcements were being made that the man of the hour (or, more accurately, the year, the decade, our lives, etc) had arrived on campus and would hit the stage shortly. I was BESIDE myself with excitement, as can be attested by LT and his parents. Later I'll post pictures of what the following half hour looked like; suffice it to say it was SO much fun.
And then he was on stage. Right in front of us. Right in front of 50,000 people. Right in my backyard.
I dug his speech. Like I mentioned, it wasn't life-changing, but I probably wouldn't forgive myself if I'd missed it. He hit on all the usual talking points - healthcare, economy, tax cuts, McCain's stupidity and ignorance - and encouraged us to vote early and have our friends do the same. He joked around a LOT, which thrilled the crowd, and at one point said something like "college kids aren't a special interest group, they're our future!" so of course I looked at LT and declared, "HE BELIEVES IN US!" and we dissolved in giggles.
And then just like that, he was gone and we were headed home. Of course, as I reflect upon the day, the undisputed best part was sharing the experience with so many people. My little nuclear group alone - just the people I've referenced in this blog - numbered 17; the crowd in the bleachers numbered 300; and looking out upon the packed oval, we numbered 50,000+.
I was reminded why I call LT my "therapist." We met four years ago in a physics class, and yesterday I repeatedly said silent prayers of thanksgiving for his friendship. He is one of my most true friends - he's kind, he's affable and gentle and congenial and sincere, he has a heart of gold and I am so lucky to call him a friend. I'm going to name my firstborn Loren after him. And I wish I could be the kind of friend to other people that he is to me.
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God is love. I have a lot of love in my life. I have a lot of God in my life.
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At work ANOTHER of my coworkers thought CF was my sister. Which reminds me that I need to write at length about my adopted siblings - AB, CF, KH and many others. Again...I'm so fortunate to have these people in my life.

Salsa

I have this friend who is more of a cousin than an acquaintance. His dad is my uncle's best friend from medical school, and I think we were about 12 before we realized we weren't actually blood-related.
Anyhow, BM - my friend - has a personal policy: he doesn't take pictures. No matter what we're doing, no matter how amazing it is, he won't document it because he doesn't want to mar his actual memory of the experience. He believes that photographing something diminishes its value in your brain - it makes it so that the only part of the adventure you remember is what you see in the picture. You don't remember the moments in between the exposures.
I think the experience I had tonight totally validates BM's perspective.
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I went salsa dancing at the Rio with MC. I completely forgot how amazing your good girlfriends can be. I have missed her so, so much, and shame on me for not realizing it until tonight.
I danced with EG, who perpetually makes me smile. I like him. He has many, many excellent qualities, and I so appreciate his sense of humor for putting up with my two left feet. Every time I'm around him I get blindsided by a bout of excited silence and feel like a fool trying to explain it. I think that alone says something.
And I saw DW, who is so charming and funny and goofy. Obviously I can't dance and talk at the same time, but I'm glad we had a chance to reconnect.
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Again...I'm so lucky to be able to call these people friends.
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I found out this afternoon that I finally have housing in Aspen. I'm THRILLED; an enormous stress has been lifted from my shoulders. And yet...after tonight, I'm scared and a mite anxious about this new beginning. I'm sad to leave behind so many people I love so much.

Running. Part I.

I went for a great run tonight.

Let's get lost tonight/You can be my black Kate Moss tonight/Play secretary I'm the boss tonight/And you don't give a f*** what they all say, right?/Awesome, the Christian in Christian Dior/Damn they don't make 'em like this anymore/I ask, cause I'm not sure/Do anybody make real s*** anymore?

I left the house around 9pm, dressed for the cold and armed with mace and the two little lights I keep on my bike. I had my driver's license in my pocket . . . just in case anything happened.

You may be watching from a safe distance/You may be so close you can taste the blood/You may have headed for higher ground/You may be drowning in the flood/No matter what you do/Love will find you

My plan, as it is most nights, was to run north on LeMay until I was tired of running, then turn around and run home. This is usually a good plan, as I run twice as far as I'd like. Since I run about half as often as I'd like, it all works out.

Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong/Move along, move along like I know you do/And even when your hope is gone/Move along, move along just to make it through/Move along/Move along

Tonight was ethereal. For 1:06:32, it was me-and-the-pave-ment, step-af-ter-step-af-ter-step, pitch-black-and-no-cars-a-round-so-I-ran-down-the-cen-ter-of-the-street.

Just look to the rainbow you will see/The sun will shine 'till eternity/I've got so much love in my heart/No one can tear it apart/Feel the love generation/Feel the love generation

Running kicks my brain into overdrive. Tonight was no exception. Rounding the corner from Carpenter to LeMay, I was pining for the nights two years ago when I was training for my first marathon - those nights when I'd rather be sprinting down Overland or Taft Hill in the dark than having a beer at Road. Further down the street, I watched my long ponytail charge back and forth across my shadow and gave God thanks for the motivation and the ability to spend a Monday night this way. Coming up to the light at Paragon Point, I thought about the people I've spent the last four years with who now live so very far away - AS, KH, BB. I thought about Katie. I thought about MB and the conversations we had under the stars this summer. Then I looked at the stars for a little while; I was pleased, but not surprised, to spot a satellite instantly.

I think it turned ten o'clock but I don't really know/Then I can't remember caring for an hour or so/Started crying and I couldn't stop myself/I started running but there's no where to run to/I sat down on the street and took a look at myself/Said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell/Say your goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to

Of course I know it's risky to run alone in the dark. Frankly, that's part of why I do it. I crave the adrenaline rush of knowing I need to keep myself safe. And I crave the alone time.

And your eyes are the size of the moon/You could 'cause you can so you do/We're feeling so good/just the way that we do/When it's nine in the afternoon

When I crested the hill on LeMay just above St. Elizabeth's, I looked out at southern Fort Collins and saw no one else around - nothing but an open four-lane road and a couple hundred street lights.

Now hang me up to dry/You wrung me out/Too too too many times/Now hang me up to dry/I'm pearly like the whites/The whites of your eyes

Seven miles later, I have no cartilage in my knees . . . and I haven't felt so alive in a long time.

And when there's nowhere else to run/Is there room for one more son/These changes ain't changing me/The cold-hearted boy I used to be

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The text in italics are the lyrics of the songs in my "Run Faster!" playlist.

Things I'm Going to Miss About Sky Ranch 2008

This is a reprint from what I wrote in my journal on August 7, 2008:

In Absolutely no particular order...

*CM and ZW telling me everything about their love lives because of some inner voice that compels them to do so

*Inside jokes with MB

*Having my "own" room (AH slept there on the weekends) and getting to share it as I saw fit - BR, RC and Katie for a week each

*RC and my after-lunch siestas from 12:30 to 1:00 every day

*APR's Charlie Brown dance

*Cath-face :)

*Never ONCE fighting with Courtney - or Jeff! Shocking!!

*DB: "I damn near concussed myself." :)

*NJ being the whale - and then the bush - in our SONdance Jonah skit

*Being the perfect height to hug RC

*ALL of the things I carried in my Marmot Walkabout at any given time: H2O, friendship bracelets, radio, sunscreen, headlamp, keys, markers, gum, chapstick, pocket knife, lighter, moisturizer, sunglasses, camera, two Bibles, a book, my journal & my trusty little black Moleskin book

*Worship on the hill; getting to be Jesus; my voice echoing off Golgotha

*The writing on my windows

*The "Hot Chicks Dig Obama" button MB gave me

*The time MB pushed me from the lodge all the way out to Wilderness in a wheelbarrow

*Doing work projects with MG . . . and dropping my radio in a giant puddle from the top of the truck

*The first day of staff training - and meeting all the new staff

*Our affirmation bags

*Leadership staff meetings with AS - especially the time he brought us ice cream

*Making fish bracelets for EVERYONE!

*The time MB "rescued" me from the office to drive the Ranger around to pick up woodchips

*Driving Big Bertha to Sleepy Owl & then Fort Collins with NJ

*Taking my "driving test" with AS & NJ - when NJ backed up Bertha and ALMOST knocked over the fence by the meadow because he didn't know it was there

*Our "anti-social running club" - me, RC, MB, LH, MG & sometimes KB, all running together . . . with our iPods

*SWIMMING in Beaver Creek with RC, Courto, CJ, AW and (sort of) NJ. (He fell in, fully clothed.) SB, KW & CB watched and took pictures for us.

*Learning to play "real songs" on my guitar

*The ridiculous band - troop? - of kids from Fort Collins who came traipsing out of the woods into camp during Week 3

*Awesome, awesome weekends, every last one of them. Always hanging out with camp kids. Sleeping on the tramp with MB; watching movies & drinking beer on the porch. Text-message flirting with JW from across the table. Chipotle . . . perpetually.

*Seeing campers and sponsors whom I love and who love me - my own little camp family, relatives I get to see but once a year.

And of course, there are infinitely more . . . but this list will, at least, do the summer justice. I loved it. And I'm sad to see it go.

Why would I want to be Paris' friend anyway?

I did something stupid yesterday.

It began innocently enough, really. I was channel surfing. Maybe I had my guard down. At any rate, it happened.

I saw an entire episode of Paris Hilton's new reality show on MTV.

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I don't care to devote any energy into disparaging it - I don't even want to justify that kind of garbage with a comment - except to make one point. In the pilot of said program, a girl is kicked out of the contest for refusing to dye her hair black at Paris' request - as Paris puts it, "friends take each other's advice, and you didn't take my advice."

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Ugh, I take such issue with that logic. It's petty (for that matter, the fact that I'm writing about this is REALLY petty) and poorly conceived. Now, I've only had two BEST friends in my life - Courtney, my sister, and AS, whom I dated for five years. One could argue that ASB and KD were my best friends from childhood, and KH, BR, BB and maybe even MB and JT are my best friends now. The point I want to make is that none of these exceptional individuals would ever pose that kind of ultimatum. It's not...friendly. It's not what friends do.

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I think the reason this is irking me so is because I was witness to the failure of a very close friendship about a year ago. Two women I knew and loved - and who were closer, at least emotionally, than many married couples - fell completely apart because one friend politely declined to take the other's advice on a guy she was casually dating. (It should be noted that this was NOT a Lauren-Heidi-Spencer situation. The guy wasn't a winner, but he wasn't Spencer, either.) From my vantage point, I couldn't understand WHY the one friend was so harsh, especially in light of the pain it caused the other friend. I still can't grasp it, and these girls haven't spoken in over a year.

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I can't stand Paris, either. Anyone so self-involved should never have so much attention.