heartbreak & head injuries.

if..ehem..i mean when. when i get married (gotta stay optimistic about these things) i would like to register for two items. they are expensive so feel free to all pull your money together and chip in as group gift. i think it could be a reasonable $20 a head if split up properly. firstly, i would like to be the proud owner of a dyson vacuum cleaner. the pet hair model. cause let's face it people, the marley dog is cute, but he leaves a mark. fur everywhere. and also, this is me we are talking about. i will clean all day long with that magic machine. no other household will put it to quite such good use. the second item i will shoot my little gun at, will be a kitchenaid electric mixer. this is my most coveted appliance. my most coveted anything, really. i have thought long and hard about breaking down and buying one for myself, but i have a little superstition wrapped up in this situation. for me this perd'y number would be the absolute perfect wedding present. the artisan model. in tangerine. and although i could probably rustle up the $263.99 that it would cost to purchase this modern marvel, i feel i would be dooming myself to a life a singleness. by purchasing this mixer for myself i feel i am basically giving in. giving up. admitting that i will never get married. that i will never find my teammate. that i will always have a cold and empty side of the bed. and i am just not ready to do that. not just yet.

i broke up with my boyfriend recently. or he broke up with me. i'm not really sure exactly how to describe this one. all i know is i went to bed wednesday night, exhausted after a long day of work and was woken up four hours later by his drunken and belligerent shouting and he continued to me out of character and distant. so i asked him to leave. and two days later he went back to new york. he came by my house before his departure with a weak apology for his behavior. self sabotage. acting out at my expense. he was sorry. but that's where the line was drawn. no efforts of reparation. i sat there holding the telluride truffle treaty offering he placed in my hesitant hands. for once chocolate was unappealing. he sat near me on the couch avoiding my teary eye contact. and then he left. and i may never see him again. he didn't fight to get me back. he didn't do everything in his power to heal the hurt. he silently slipped away. and i find myself alone again. and farther than ever from the wedding isle.

so it seems almost comical that the following day i should be the victim of a most unfortunate accident. i dragged myself to work. eyes slightly puffy from crying myself to sleep the night before. that burning in my chest. each breath fighting back more tears. i went to work and threw myself into the service. helping the sushi chef grate daikon, i pulled down the food processor from the overhead shelf. in one quick movement i managed to snag the plug part of the cord under the kitchenaid electric mixer that makes it's home directly to it's left. and moments later the crashing noise brought both my bosses rushing through the swinging doors. "Are you okay?" he asked first. I stood laughing. Stunned. Frightened. I felt for my skull. A delicate touch sent pain shooting through my head. I winced and the facts of the story came to light. I had somehow managed to conk myself on the head with the entirety of my beloved appliance, and yet still remain standing. my boss reached for a cloth napkin and filled it with ice. he led me towards the dinning room to sit down but my legs felt weak and uneasy beneath me. i sunk slowly to the ground and leaned against the island. was this a sign? what was the universe trying to tell me? the doctors in the emergency room seemed amused. and also relieved that i didn't seem to be suffering from any severe malady or trauma. lots of rest and ibuprophen. see me back in the office in four days. seems i am lucky i have such a hard head. maybe i shouldn't be so stubborn about the kitchenaid afterall? if i owned my own, maybe the vendetta wielding one at work wouldn't be out to get me. it's the exact one i would have purchased. even it's orange gloss mocks me. i am glad i didn't die, but it would have been an interesting story.

you were restless. i was somewhere less secure.

it's been a while since i have written. months actually. and like the good and loving friends you are, you have gotten on my case about it. sort of all at once and out of the blue. in a week's time you have all politely pleaded for a much over due update. which makes me happy to know that anyone cares about the contrived little thoughts that make their way from my head to the page. and it makes me sad to know that i haven't made the time to organize the mess that becomes these writings. a lot has happened in the past few months. i embraced a relationship. and subsequently ended said relationship. i started a new job. found my way to the emergency room. again. and have cooked and baked so many delicious and nutritious food items. it's been a good time. and a hard time. but when is it every really anything else?

i would love to catch you all up on the comings and goings of my mountain town living. but first, a little story...

the odds are good. but the goods are odd.

in a town that fosters such delightful phrases for male/female relationships as "you don't lose your chance, just your turn in line," a girl can be forced to take some pretty drastic measures to find a mate. especially when, left to her own devices, she repeatedly choses different versions of the same man: the alcoholic, abusive, selfish prick. think musician or politician. what is it about me and men who schmooze and entertain for a living?!

i've recently ended a relationship. one that i mistakenly saw great potential in. and although part of me feels that it is very fresh and i should give it time to settle in and mourn the loss, another part of me insists that i trudge forward. i am at such a jaded juncture, i feel that if i don't press on, i may never put myself out there again.

so, i did it folks. i joined the dark side. even though the old saying goes "can't buy me love," my credit card deposit has my fingers crossed that e-Harmony will match me with mr. wonderful. i am officially one of those people. meh.

[pricks need not apply.]

i don't need a telescope to see that there's hope.

sunlight breaks through gently veiled windows. icicles form a glistening curtain that pleasantly obstructs the view--the street below. the town across the block. the mountains cradling it all. blanketed in white. snow fall embraces the browns and greens. winter has officially arrived. colorado blue skies are above us. i am serene and warm indoors. top floor of the history museum. free yoga on monday afternoons. sun salutations have a special meaning today. hello magic. i have missed you. namaste.

load the car and write the note. grab your bag and grab your coat. tell the ones that need to know, we are headed north.

after months of waiting, i am headed north. and east. i'm going to visit my boyfriend and my mom next monday. a little family time sounds perfect right now. curled in front of the fireplace drinking tea and catching up. i am grateful for my decision: forego a three day trip to austin city limits in exchange for two weeks in new england with two of my favorite people. exploring albany with jonathon and getting to show him around deer isle. playing in boston with my momula. riding trains and exploring museums. big city living. coastal cuisine. one last adventure before the winter season is upon us. i welcome it with open arms. this summer was good but hard. and while i feel like i have nothing to show for it, i have tried my best to make the most of the autumn. it is my favorite. and while some favor spring, this is my nesting time. cozy clothes. good food. football and beer. last night i sat on the ski slope watching the sun set over the mountain range and laughing as marley tossed snow in the air, to himself, i sighed a deep breath. this may not have been the season i was hoping for, or expecting, but it wasn't boring.



















in the past few weeks i have been fortunate enough to assist a professional photography workshop, along side a published artist, climbed two mountains, found a new position at the hotel (if all goes well i will be cooking two days a week) and created many yummy and delicious meals for myself and my roomies. here are two of my new favorites:

::Carrot and Cilantro Soup::
1lb carrots
1 tbs olive oil
3 tbs Earth Balance
1 onion, chopped
1 celery rib, plus 2-3 leafy celery tops
2 small potatoes, peeled
4 cups vegetable stock
2-3 tsp ground corriander
1 tbs chopped cilantro
1 cup plain soy milk
salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

-Heat the oil and 2 tbs Earth Balance in large skillet and saute the onion for 3 to 4 minutes, until slightly softened.
-Add chopped celery and potatoes to the onion and cook for a few minutes. Add the chopped carrots and continue to cook for 3 to 4 minutes stirring, and then cover.
-Reduce heat even further and sweat for ten minutes.
-Add the vegetable stock and bring to a boil. Half cover the pan and simmer for 8 to 10 minutes, until potatoes and carrots are tender.
-Melt remaining Earth Balance in a sauce pan and saute ground coriander for one minute, stirring constantly.
-Reduce heat, add copped celery tops and cilantro and saute for one minute. Set aside until required.
-Blend soup in blender or food processor. Stir in milk and cilantro mixture. Season to taste, heat gently. Serve garnished with reserved celery leaves.


::Ginger Pear Cake with Carmel Butter Cream Frosting::
[The recipe as shown below is made with vegan substitutions. no animals were harmed in the baking of this delicious cake]

we stood on the porch and watched the snow make magic of the sky.

snow covered the ground and continued to fall around me as i stood on the front lawn last tuesday morning. i had made plans to go to moab with a good friend from work. two ladies camping in the desert for three days. it was going to be spiritual. but when your driver is from louisiana, and her first attempt at driving in the winter weather is at five thirty in the morning, on three hours of sleep, with you as a passenger (note: you quite recently rolled her roommates vehicle down a snowy embankment) you politely decline, and make plans to reschedule with more cooperative precipitation.

and then you spend the snowy afternoon drinking hot cider and carving pumpkins. listening to records on your roommate's turntable, sipping good beer, and snacking on toasted pumpkin seeds. salty and hot from the oven.

sometimes when you want to be bear grylls, the martha stewart comes out instead. embrace the crafty nature.

funny which words stick around twenty years down when you're driving alone...

[this is what today sounds like]
telluride is a strange place to move if you are a girl with abandonment issues. the transient nature of the town breeds deep connections on a shortened time line. there's a lot compressed into a little bitty village. and the feelings are real and the relationships are good if not brief. and then you are left morning this wonderful thing that vanished, perhaps never to be seen or heard from again. but this person has touched your spirit. and perhaps on this occasion you have created a lifelong bond. or maybe this is someone to always hold dear in your memory. gratitude. no expectations. i'm still learning this one.

but this place is magical. a vortex of healing and escape. i hope i am in the former category. i waited a long time before i made my move. i wanted to be moving on instead of running away. and yet, some how, so many of the difficult questions have followed me through the winding western roads, into my cradle. my safe place. and i find myself fumbling again. short of breath and anxious. insomnia plagues me. and nightmares haunt my restless sleep. i drag myself from bed in the mornings. and i often cry myself to sleep. this sadness wont leave. i have begged it. pleaded with it. and although i would never be so selfish as to take my own life, at these moments i can see where it might seem appealing. an end to all the pain and suffering. but that is the great lie. and i push past it in hopes that the sadness, doubt, and fear will be met equally with joy and fulfillment. someday. when i stop doubting myself. when i can feel my worth.

thirty hit me over the head. all these years and i am still no farther along. how emotionally defeating. i simple phone message from my father can send me spiraling. and all my fears come rushing back. will i ever be good enough? how do i keep from being too much? too much, but not enough.

i woke from a fretful dream the other night. i found myself confronted with my ex-boyfriend, curled on the carpet with another woman. it broke my heart all over again. and i turned and ran down the hallway. but this time, in this sleepy reality, instead of allowing his lies to defeat me and condemn me, i fought back. i yelled. i swung. i beat the shit out of him. and i woke even more exhausted than when i lay my head on the pillow. and when my tears subsided and i drifted off once again, i found myself alongside a good friend. and he did me favors and made me laugh and when i thanked him he kissed me on the mouth. i watched myself stand there in awkward silence. and this dream "me" mustered up the courage to ask him what he meant by that kiss. and the question was greeted with a laugh. and dismissed as if i was absurd for thinking it would ever possibly mean anything of importance.

i lay in my bed, watching through open blinds, searching the black for signs of snow. emotionally wrought. exhausted but unable to sleep. the phrase "dating is not an option" loops through my head. the idea that i'm not datable. unlovable. i never questioned this reply, but how do you recover from such a vague dismissal? how do you not blame yourself for the wrongness of your character? how do you accept this girl that everyone else leaves behind? how can you love her enough to make it all alright?

this summer i met a boy who didn't walk away. but he moved two thousand miles from my embrace. and i find myself wondering if this is the only reason he hasn't left me. and i find myself waiting. always waiting. for him to leave. and as much as i prepare myself for this possibility, it will hurt. his absence will leave a hole. and i find myself wondering how many holes before i disappear completely.

i just hope i have something interesting to say.

autumn found its way to the box canyon today. sun shone brightly on lemon-lime foliage. aspen ablaze on steep mountain grades. brisk air tossed locks of hair and scarf tassels. beckoning winter closer. it's in the air. i can smell it. the thermometer reads twenty-nine degrees. that's Fahrenheit folks. it's cold. but the crispness in the air reminds me i'm alive. it's the autumn color change, the drop in temperatures, the bareness to it all that brings me closer to that place. for me, this is the beginning. a fresh start. a clean slate. and i welcome it with open arms. the skies shroud us in starlit canopy. too big and expansive to cloak or drape. the big dipper and Orion's belt are lost in the depth of the celestial show. a veil of glittering light. i can not make out one single constellation. too dazzled to focus on one individual.

i spent my day off running errands and reading. eating homemade carrot & cilantro soup, curled in a blanket at the dinning room table. and in the evening, i found my way to the movie theater. four girls. two bottles of wine. and the time traveler's wife. (i love rachel mcadams. if i could physically resemble any woman on the planet...) that's a recipe for tears. and an answered prayer. strong women who get me. who understand where i have been. who can direct me on my journey. open and understanding. compassion and grace at a time when i have felt lost and alone. it is amazing what you get when you just ask. pause for a moment and address the empty aching places in your heart. i asked for pages to read and ears to listen. delivered.

my friend rae keeps lists on her computer. memories.
times that i felt sad:
times that i felt depressed: abandoned: angry: abused:
times that i felt loved: understood:
these are her stones. cairns. markers on her journey. and it reminds me of our individual stories. and their great tendency to intertwine and intersect. and i am so grateful for these roadmaps of memories and experiences. the compass rose points to true north. truth and understanding. you are not alone. embrace this feeling. the burden is easier to bare when your arms are not the only ones to carry the load. when you can feel the arms around you. embracing you. remember: you are not alone. you are loved. just breathe.

i prayed for pages. books to read. something to fill in the empty space on cold evenings. and once again donald miller fell into my lap. searching for t-shirts on TWLOHA i stumbled on his latest publication. a million miles in a thousand years. a few clicks, and moments later the confirmation email announced delivery in two to four business days. amazon to the rescue. marley and i made the trek to the post office this morning. our early walk turned towards the end of the canyon instead of the mouth. headed for the snowy peaks that towered overhead. pulling my fists into the sleeves of my hooded sweatshirt and smoothing stray hairs that blow from under my toboggan. my package arrived today. and i am already one third of the way through it. for all his arrogant remarks and self deprecating tendencies, i must confess, donald miller is a man who pays attention to details. and i admire that. and his bold and brave approach to his work. his sleeves bare the bloody marks. the bumps and bruises of his open heart. tell tale signs of his chosen life. his story. perhaps without the once upon a time or the happily ever after, but thick with twists and turns. a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.


"there's something about a good story that helps me escape. i used to go to the movies all the time just to clear my head. if it was a good movie, the experience felt like somebody was resetting a compass in my brain so i could feel what was important in my life and what wasn't ...you get a feeling when you look back on life that that's all god really wants from us, to live inside a body he made and enjoy the story and bond with us through the experience...i wonder if that's what we'll do with god when we are through with all this, if he'll show us around heaven, all the light coming in windows a thousand miles away, all the fields sweeping down to a couple of chairs under a tree, in a field outside the city. and we'll sit and tell him our stories, and he'll smile and tell us what they mean. i just hope i have something interesting to say."
-d. miller

and don't apologize for all the tears you've cried. you've been way too strong now, for all your life.

i guess we're all one phone call from our knees.

snow dusts ajax peak. white caps reaching for blue bird skies. proof that the crisp coolness of the recent night air, is a sign of things to come. winter is on its way. this is the real deal.

driving home last night, from the farm, in the darkest dark of a clouded sky. i arrived to civilization and a voicemail from my sister. and an email from sean. chris has passed away. it was an accident. thought you should know. knew you would understand. i hate that i do.

"you can't have any expectations for your time together," sean said as we walked through familiar philly streets. "it is what it is. you make the best with what you have and you love them the best you can because you don't have any idea how much time you have together."

you know this. you live this reality on a daily basis. it's a reality with everyone that passes into your life. but it is intensified when mental illness is involved. you have no idea if this conversation will be your last. there are no guarantees. no certainties other than everything is temporary. so embrace what is before you. but for most of us, we go about our lives with the false luxury of believing we have all the time in the world. taking all those little details for granted. and we waste our time worrying about wardrobes and cars and endless hours at jobs we hate. what would we do differently if we knew these were our last moments together? what would we do differently if we we not fearful of looking foolish in the eyes of social constructs?

in the past few years it has been cemented into my brain how amazingly short life is, in the grand scheme of things. a single eyelash held in a very large palm. and i don't have time to waste pretending anymore. what you see is what you get. and if at times i seem messy and frazzled it is probably no more so than the next person. it's just that my stuff is right there on the surface waiting to be dealt with. waiting to be sorted out. i wear my heart on my sleeve. i'm sorry if that scares you. imagine how i feel. be grateful i don't keep secrets.

every morning i wake to the smallest thought weighing on the back of my mind. on good days i can push past it. acknowledge its existence, but also my powerlessness to change the situation. deep breath. on with the day. -- but other times it grips and pulls and drags me deep into dark places. the powerlessness becomes malignant and suffocating. a shackle instead of a release. every phone call could be "the one." the one that informs me of my sisters death. her passing. would she have ended her life? or would it have been an accident? a mistake with her meds? the voices? i think about my life with her and what a horrible sister i have been. how difficult her life must be and how often i take mine for granted. the tiny freedoms i enjoy that she will never know. it breaks my heart. and its too hard. and i am exhausted.

hillary called me the other day. she apologized. she said she was sorry she couldn't be the kind of sister i needed. that i deserved. and she apologized for monopolizing all of my father's affections. "you see audge, he spends all his time worrying about me and taking care of me and spending his money on all the things i need, he just doesn't have anything left for you. and i'm so sorry there isn't time to worry about you. but you don't need it. you're perfect. and i love you."

how do you respond to that? how do you speak when your heart has leapt out of your chest? out of you throat. and despite your best efforts to break its fall, has smashed to bits at your feet below. how do you have anything but love for someone who holds you in such high regard? who looks at you with such compassion and admiration? how can you possibly explain those evil thoughts that creep into your brain? wishing your life were different. begging, pleading for some sense of normalcy. for some lightening of the weight. to feel less burdened. less burdensome.

today could very well be the day i receive that dreaded phone call. but it could also be the day i fall in love, or get my dream job, or find twenty dollars in my jeans pocket. it is what it is. make the best of it.

p.s. so far, today has been the day i woke early and ran the valley floor. drank coffee in the sunshine, dipping pumpkin biscotti. and received a text from my sister exclaiming how proud she is of me.
today is a good day.

…rest, nature, books, music…such is my idea of happiness…

and food.
cooking. and baking, more precisely. i am still on a quest to realize my dream of one day owning my very own b&b. but for now i will relish the simply pleasures i find in mixing ingredients and hosting my friends and family at the dinner table. my latest culinary adventures include sweet potato & black bean burritos and peach cobbler. mmmmmm...tasty.




note to self: cobbler is an indoor activity. i took this cobbler to an outdoor film screening and ended up covered in it's sticky yummy goodness. hilarious & delicious. and apparently our colorado peaches differ from the standard fuzzy georgian variety. the warm days and cool nights give our juicy summer fruits a unique taste that make them ideal for both savory dishes and decadent desserts. i'll be sure to stash some away for the winter months...as i'll be spending the next three consecutive tuesday evenings learning how to can/preserve. so excited.


--colorado peach cobbler--
Filling:
10 ripe peaches
3 tablespoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons corn starch

Biscuit Dough:
2 cups flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar, plus 1 1/2 tablespoons for the top
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup earth balance (vegan butter substitute)
3/4 cup soy milk

Directions
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

In a large bowl, combine the peaches, vanilla, nutmeg, brown sugar, granulated sugar and corn starch. Mix together. Pour mixture into a 13-inch-by-9-inch casserole dish

Combine the flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder in a large bowl and mix. Cut in the vegan butter with a fork until the dough resembles sand. Slowly add the soymilk until the dough comes together. You may not need all of the soymilk.

Place the dough on a floured surface and knead it into a 13-inch-by-9-inch rectangle about 1/2-inch thick and place over the peach filling. Use remaining soymilk as a wash, brushing on top of dough. Sprinkle the 1 1/2-tablespoons of sugar on top. Cook the cobbler until the top is golden brown, about 40 minutes.

enjoy!

your breath was courage laced with alcohol. you leaned in, you said, "make music with the chatter in here, and whisper all the notes in my ears."

trying to salvage inspiration from the pit of sadness that has gripped me as of late. i can see the light.

1] blind pilot - 3 rounds and a sound
2] The Stationary Studio - create your own custom note cards
3] outdoor film screenings in elk park
4] redesign projects for brown dog
5] 500 days of summer. good sound track. and i want a chalkboard wall. plus i'm always down for a random syncronized dance sequence.
6] care packages
7] everwood
8] fall weather
9] football season
10] hikes

i’m just an idea that happened upon love. i am that i am. and that i am, is enough.

I overheard a woman's conversation in the restaurant, yesterday. "You should never let another individual control your sense of self and well-being." I glanced over my shoulder to witness the recipient's reaction to the advice. The eight year old little girl starred back at her mother in recognition. Then took a sip of her root beer.
Kids these days.

nothing says happy thirtieth like outerwear.

so for my b-day i purchased, for myself, three items of dire need and necessity. (one for each remarkably endured decade).
my first self gift is a new ski jacket. i knew i wanted green and pink. and it had to match the black north face pants i procured from the free box last season. i waited patiently for months. i finally found what i'd been waiting for. you can spot me on the slopes in this stylish little number...
the second item of interest is in preparation of the rainy fall season here in telluride. my very first rain coat. my marmot precip. i love it. mine is pink with orange writing but i couldn't find any photos. perhaps it is one of a kind :)
finally, the third item is designed for the walking lifestyle of this town. and to keep my feet warm and dry in the coming months. plus i really liked their moto:

For those who'd rather stay home than see the world from the seat of a bus, the berth of a train, the railings of a boat, or the portal of a plane OTBT shoes are not for you. To all you roamers, rovers and rolling stones who know the destination is the journey, ramble on.





in the same train of thought, my momula sent me a wonderful treasure she traded for at at craft show in maine. she is called a "traveler" and is created to represent the geography of your imagination. she hangs above my bed. she is beautiful.


also, my dear friend kelstar sent me a cut out from charlotte's skirt magazine publication. apparently i qualify for the desired position. i have already faxed my resume.


sweet action.

life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea.

my friend's father passed away the other day. and all i could do was bake her a chicken and hug her and walk the valley floor. and curl up in the living room with blankets and a movie. and take her to buy jerky on the way to the airport. and wonder if i have any idea what she is going through. it breaks my heart. and i sit here in her room. so empty without her warm presence. and i admire her bravery. and pray for her heart. and hope that she can find peace in the knowledge that she put her heart out there and it was received. she said her peace and her father passed, perhaps without the knowledge of the intimate details of her life, but with a much better understanding of her character. knowing that she is loving and open and amazing. and with a genuine desire to reconcile the space between. that counts for something. that really matters.

and in the crooks of her story i can see the broken pieces of my failed relationship as a daughter. what would i feel if that phone call was mine to receive. if my sister's voice wailed on the other end of the line. dad is dead. would my heart wrench? would i be numb and guarded? would life continue on unaffected by the loss of this already absent figure? only present in name and concept as a means to my existence. half of me. the half that could care less about the person i have become.

the birthday song poured out onto my voicemail. i love you audie. my throat tightened. i straighted my posture. adjusting my weight to both feet. i am angry and annoyed. and i feel selfish for vowing not to call him back. i can't put myself out there again. so many years of disappointment. failed promises and broken truths. i'm too weak. i'm too tired. but i pray that my friend can understand why i must choose to keep this distance between my own father. i pray that i can understand and accept the reality of the situation. i don't think i can handle another rejection. it seems necessary to walk away. save my heart for something better. for someone who will actually care for it and appreciate its delicate fullness.

----------------------------------------------------------------

monday evening. the sun set in brilliant red and orange and pink. fading to a deep purple above the mountain ridge. the wildfire haze hanging in the air, increasing the intensity of the final rays. the day's finale. a glorious show. standing at 10,000 feet, i crouched to the ground, high heels digging in the dusty, gravel road. my dress gently brushing across the path. hugging my knees tightly to my chest. the tears welled in my eyes. trying to hold them back. to somehow absorb them back into my body. they plump and roll down my cheeks, leaving wet tracks that chill in the evening breeze.

overwhelmed. it's too much. my little sister called me from the hospital. my father sang to my voicemail as if months of emptiness and distance have not passed. my amazing friend stands crouched behind me, holding me and stroking my hair, pretending for a moment that there will be more nights like this. that he isn't leaving on sunday. that we have more time.

no girl wants to spend her thirtieth birthday feeling fat and bloated. physically and emotionally exhausted. strung out on her period and on the far end of the family drama. close enough to be in the know, but unable to solve any of the problems. angry and upset. completely overwhelmed. so i stand and turn towards those strong arms that pull me close. and hold me tight. and he dries my tears and kisses me gently. it seems like such a strange time to celebrate. recent events weighing on my mind. burdening my heart. but he manages to make me laugh and he takes me to dinner. and somewhere between the sake and the curry i relax into the evening. it is what it is. be here now. this time is a gift. happy birthday to me.

----------------------------------------------------------------

everyone says thirty is just the beginning. the start of a new decade. a new phase. a new season. and i embrace this opportunity for change. for growth. for understanding. for love. there is distance from the insecure little girl in me. the years have given me that distance. and a new perspective. learning to get out of my own way. that i am the dictator of my own limits and boundaries. placing restrictions on my life out of fear. and i choose to end this way of living. embrace what the day has in store. live in the moment. live boldly. love wildly. this is just the beginning.

"nothing" says liberation like a naked bike ride.

sunday morning brought sunshine and good conversation in mountain village. whiling away the hours bouldering with a new friend. ultimately spending more time talking and smoothing our hands over the gravel covered pit. relaxing in the shade of the rock and pondering the origins of the designated problems sans interference of what we can only guess to be the curious hands of children. peeling colored tape off the lower holds. the circumference of the climbs balded up to toddler eye level. dang kids.

today also marked the conclusion of telluride's infamous "nothing festival." a weekend mockingly marking the over abundance of tourist catered events throughout the summer months. this is a weekend for locals. no traffic. no long lines. no outsiders. a real community builder. unfortunately, due to early season dust storms, conditions were less than favorable for the annual lunar cup an eclectic mix of individuals racing down the snowy slopes of savage basin. camping, costumes, free box finds, and plenty of cocktails make this summertime downhill ski/snowboard race a favorite for our local lunatics.

unable to participate in the telluride tradition of shooshing down the july snow pack, i found it only necessary to participate in what one may consider, the closing ceremonies. at dusk i found myself in the company of forty fellow telluride townies, pedaling down the length of main street on our bicycles. the traffic circle to town park and back. in the buff. that is to say, in full "nothing" spirit. (disclaimer: i wore nude panties. there is just something seemingly unsanitary about being bottomless on a bicycle. oh my o.c.d tendencies.)

breasts exposed and genitalia dangling, the herd of exposed riders made there way through the crowded streets. restaurants emptied as their patrons lined the sidewalks with cameras and video. tourists and locals alike. children. elderly. everyone in between. cheering and whooping. we made our pass and looped back for our celebratory bash on the front lawn of one participant's house. it was oddly comfortable. such a large group almost entirely nude, created a new standard for normal. but the overall spirit was playful and lacked uncomfortable sexual overtones. we were like children running naked on the beach. wonderfully naive and innocent. liberated and free. "nothing" brings people together.