2013, Part 2.

Last year was a big learning year for me, and I'm so grateful for the experiences. I left off in June, becoming a nanny and starting yoga teacher training. As I mentioned, I was a wee bit busy.

Mostly, I was go-go-going without breathing. Truthfully, I felt like if I stopped to breathe, I'd have to stop to think. And I didn't want to think about where my life was (or wasn't) going. I was (am still) at the ripe old age of 24, and was (still am) having ever-increasing anxiety about what the heck I was supposed to be doing with myself. Do you guys ever feel this way? Yeah, of course you do, because it's the basic question of humanity. Why are we here and why is being here so hard? ;)

July

The last two weeks of July were a lesson in determination. I had double-booked myself for both teacher training and a three-week trip with my "nanny family" to Crested Butte, CO, and Sonoma, CA. So, this happened:

Teacher training ended Tuesday night at 10 pm. I slept until 2 am, woke up and raced the sunrise 250 miles to Crested Butte, watching Colorado wake up before the kids did at 7:00. 

Then we went hiking!

Then I jumped in that waterfall you can sort of see behind J!

It was bone-numbing!

It was better than caffeine!

Friday night the kids went to bed at 10:00 pm, and I drove back up to Denver. I arrived at 3:00 am and woke up for teacher training Saturday from 8:30 am-4:30pm.

The next day, I went for a hike to "find myself." I'm not sure if I did, but I did find a hitchhiker. Dangerous? Maybe. But he led me to this hike on the Colorado Trail.

So I say let's hear it for risky behavior!

Two days later, I made the same midnight drive back down to CB.

This is the Butte.

This is the cat. He has a snaggletooth & is weird.

This is K. Also weird. Also snaggletooth.

August

That Saturday, we took the family's private jet to Sonoma Valley. Yes. I said it. Private jet. I rode in it. I flew co-pilot. It was AWESOME.

Trying to take covert-ops photos. Trying to act cool.

That week in Cali we had an entire 35-acre vineyard property all to ourselves. The kids and I hung out in the pool, went down the 100-foot rock water slide that led to our lake, played tennis, jumped on the trampoline, jumped on the water trampoline, and jousted on paddle boards. I lost my glasses in the lake and was blind for 24 hours. Whoops!  The adults cooked every night in the full outdoor kitchen and drank a lot of wine. It was the most wonderful, extravagant vacation ever. Well, except I was technically "at work." 

Technicalities.

We flew back to CB the following Saturday, and I hopped in my car and drove 325 miles to Santa Fe, New Mexico, to meet my real family for the Indian Arts festival. Because I apparently didn't drive enough the two weeks before. It was worth it. Everything was gorgeous. The craftsmanship was unbelievable.

Sunday night I drove back to Denver to be at work Monday at 6:30 am.

In those three weeks, I logged 1500 miles on my 1998 Ford Explorer.

I got pretty good at taking pictures out of my car window at 80 mph.

September

The only nannying I had to do was to get the kids ready for school, so I became the mom's full-time personal assistant. I also started the "extensions" program for yoga teacher training.

And I still had a second job. And I was still not sleeping.  

We moved my brother from Alamosa to Basalt. I started training for a marathon. Guess when I did my training? At night.

Well, other than this run. Clearly daytime.

October

Teacher-training ended. I quit my part-time second job. There was light at the end of my worn out tunnel.

I dyed my hair back! I was ready to feel like an asian teddy bear myself again.

I ran a 15K with mah best gal, Annie.

I went on a hike to "find myself" some more. 

And when I got back from that hike, I quit my full-time job.

Wait. What, really? Again?

Yes. Really.

But they had a private jet! And vacations in California! They bought you a season pass to Crested Butte! You were going to Switzerland with them next summer! The kids were so cute!

Yes. I know. I know all of those things.

But I was worn down to the bone. I couldn't see straight. My diet consisted entirely of chocolate, caffeine and protein bars. My stress hormones were so out of control, I had gained 20 pounds, even though my average daily caloric intake after running and yoga was only 1200 net calories. My body was apparently preparing for itself for a slow, painful death.

Beyond how I was feeling, my mom had suggested she could use some help around the house, as my dad's health was in rapid decline. Ultimately, I had started nannying to make a difference in someone's life, so when faced with the choice of helping a family I had adopted and helping my own family, I went with blood.  It runs thicker than money.

November

I moved back into my old bedroom in the basement of my parent's house. I redecorated.

From this (age 13) purple...

...To this.
I did not redecorate the cat.
He stayed just as cute.

Then I took another swing at the trust-fund life and jetted off to visit Andy who had moved to Austin, TX. It was such a fun trip. We went to some really neat bars with some really amazing people. And we spent twelve hours in a book store browsing potential reads, because Andy and I are basically the same person.

My socks matched the decor/Andy's shirt.

Also in November, I met a boy...

Oh my gosh. Did you really just put that in your blog? Like, for all the cyberspaces to see?

Yes. Yes, I did. I am also having a conversation with myself in blog form, for the second time this evening. So I'm not sure which is worse.

I admitted to meeting a cute boy I might like because, if you recall, one of my goals in this blog was being honest. And if I'm being honest, I am trying to accept that having a crush means potentially opening myself up to hurt again. Like 2012-sized hurt. Like my-relationship-falling-apart-25-days-before-my-wedding hurt.

Wait. I didn't tell you that story yet? Hm. Well. It'll come later.

For now, just know that I have a crush on a boy, and I am fuh-reaking out about it.

In a good way. :)

December

I started submitting applications to graduate school. I'm going for it. I believe it's going to happen. 

My OG best friend Kelly asked me to be the Maid of Honor in her wedding. (awwwwww!)

I went snowboarding.

Riding up the T-Bar on a snowboard makes me a giggling mess with burning quads.

And I tried to settle down. I did a lot of moving in 2013.

As the year ended, I started thinking about my goals for the upcoming year.

By the time I rang in 2014 with more of my best lady friends, I was ready to start working on them.

And here I am, blogging away, which is one of my goals.

Next post, I'll tell you about what else I plan to accomplish this year.

It's going to be a good year. I can feel it.

It already is.

:)

2013, Part 1.

The beauty of the new year is that we all start it together.
We all start with a fresh hope of becoming our truer, shinier, more beautiful human selves.
And if you are lucky enough to have friends like mine, we celebrate those hopes knowing that, if next December rolls around and we didn't quite hit our marks, we'll still love each other anyway.

The beauty of a new year is that we take time to reflect on the  past. For me, 2013 was a great year. Yes, I had some dark moments, but overall, I became more conscious of myself and who I am and who I am trying to be. I learned so much about my strengths, my weaknesses, and in a big way, my limits. Those insights inspired actions that looked crazy but that moved me slowly closer to where I want to be.

And where I want to be is happy. 

Here's what my first half of 2013 looked like. (Yes, I 'll have to do this obligatory summing-up-of-the-old-year in two posts//yes I should have done it in December but, meh). I promise I'll get around to the other obligatory goals-for-the-new-year by the end of the week (I'll give you a hint, blogging more is one of them).

January

I rang in 2013 with a midnight yoga class. It was stellar, but sort of started a sleep-deprivation trend that I kept up for most of the entire year.

Later that month, I celebrated my 24th birthday with my best girls that I've known for basically forever.

duck face!

We closed out a bar, waited way too long for a taxi (outside, in January, in Colorado, in dresses, without tights). And then "amused"our taxi driver with our fifteen-minute rendition of a Red Robin commercial.

Red Robin...YUMMMM.

It ended in hilarity in my apartment.

I made pancakes for everyone the next morning.

February

I don't remember much of February, because this was the month that I actively considered suicide (remember those dark moments I mentioned above?). Thankfully, my friend Andy (shout out!) talked me off the proverbial ledge with 49% empathetic understanding and 49% blunt honesty. The other 2% was my own concern for the emotional health of whoever discovered my body.

Plus, let'sbehonesthere, I didn't really want to miss out on the rest of my life.  I've got a long bucket list, and I haven't gotten to nearly enough of it. It seems bizarre now to think of myself as that so sad girl. But! The only way to go from there was up...

March

I went blonde! Hollahatyergurl!

Since I didn't want to live my life the way it was going, I decided to reinvent myself, starting with my hair. I highly recommend this as therapy. I felt like an elf, elves are awesome, and I didn't recognize myself when I looked in the mirror That was a good thing.

I also hung out with my cat.

Like, a lot.

#inappropriate!

April

I quit my job. In the middle of a recession. This was the first of the crazy decisions. And it was the best decision I've made in my life thus far. I was burnt out, and I didn't feel like I was making a difference in anyone else's life.

I want to make a difference. It's my biggest goal in life.

Last day with some of the amazing ragamuffin Urban crowd.

I celebrated that evening with ferrets. (What?)

I went to a Spring Rockies game with my dad. This may seem inconsequential, but I'm really trying to bond with him to make up for a decade or so where we hated each other a little bit (#puberty).

Aw. That's where I get my cheeks.

And I started the Whole30 Paleo cleanse. 30 days of eating nothing except nuts, fruits, seeds, vegetables, and meat. No sugar (anywhere; like, not even ketchup), no alcohol, no grains, no starches, no dairy.

But, I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I've always struggled with body image and my relationship with chocolate food. I wanted to lose weight and thought (ignorantly), that cutting everything out was the best way to do so. But, actually, all it did was ensure that I relapsed into bulimia. I couldn't keep up the elimination diet, and so I purged myself of the restricted foods I did eat. I love the idea behind Whole30, but for most people, it's not a sustainable lifestyle, and (I would argue), simply perpetuates disordered eating.

What I should have been focusing on is this:

Chyeah. Say it again!

May

You guys know about May.  That's when I started this blog, after all! I went to Europe with my brother, and we had a grand time.  You can read all about it, here, here, or here. (There's more posts, but writing "here" six times seemed excessive, so you'll have to find them yourselves).

I also drove around Colorado on my funemployment, visiting my best friends.

 This is Andy, he saved my life.

Cinco-de-mustache, obvi.

And I went to Vegas with mah girls.

The guy on the left was in a group of men from London that let us share their table service.

We drank rounds of Dom Perignon.

It was a $15,000 bar tab. 

Thanks!

It was amazing.

Memories are a little blurry, but we were clearly having a great time.

June

After a month of living the life of a faux-trust-fund child and traveling to Europe, Las Vegas, and most of Colorado, I decided to start paying taxes again. So I started nannying.

For these crazies.

I also started yoga teacher training. Because when you're a twenty-something who quits a socially acceptable, successful career and yoga is the only reason you put on pants for most of the month of May, it seems like a great idea. And it was.

But it was a busy June, July, &August. Weekly, yoga TT was nine hours of training, five hours of practice, and I had three hours of cleaning the studio (plus about 10 hours/week of showering). This was fit around my 40 hours of nannying, my second 15-hour/week retail job, and my time with my friends (and my cat). I was on FIRE. 

The only thing I wasn't doing was sleeping. And by August, I crashed. Hard. Which, incidentally, is what led me to be writing this post from my old bedroom in my parents' basement. 

But, that's getting ahead of myself. July-December are coming atchya. Promise.

For now, Happy New Year, y'all.

:)

Europe, In Fragments. 2

​

I've just arrived in Amsterdam and I forgot how much I love this country for it's commitment to modern design. Sitting in the airport waiting for my brother's flight to get in, little memories are finding me here.

​Amsterdam, 2.

​I was here on a trip over Easter weekend with a few friends from my study abroad program in Italy.

​We rented a paddle-boat and 'biked' down the canal. We wanted to rent real bikes, but opted not to in fear that we might be too stoned to ride them.

​We ate about two pounds each of chocolate from Puccini Bomboni, and went through a 35-minute-long decision about what toppings we wanted on fries. (Again, stoned. Sorry, Mom!)

​We went to as many museums on our museum pass that we could fit into a weekend, and I wished I went to more museums back at home.

​We ate Chinese food the first night, and crêpes the second in the top floor of a restaurant/house with only four tables.

​Paris, 2.

​This trip was in May 2009 with my ex and my mother, who joined us at the end.

​We stayed in the suburbs, and taking the commuter trains&buses made us feel like we were real locals.

​We sat at a table at McDonalds, but ate Brie on pears and swore we'd never go back to hamburgers.

​We ate crêpes here too, in a neighborhood that was too design-savvy for its own good, and we pretended that it was the neighborhood we lived in as [successful] writers and artists. (Being directionally challenged, I will never be able to find that neighborhood again).

​We took a self-guided chocolate tour and learned a difference between the two of us: I ate my macaron the second we stepped out of the shop, and he wanted to wait and savor it somewhere special.

​When my mom arrived, we had dinner at a restaurant with long tables with benches and bees on the menu.

​We spent an entire day at Musée d'Orsay and she treated us to lunch at the restaurant with the most beautiful ceiling I've ever seen.

​We stood at a church, somewhere, and were startled when a priest and two nuns crashed out the back door, habits flying behind them. We made up stories, wondered where they were going in such a hurry. Twenty minutes later, they came back holding pizza.

​I'm so excited to be back here. I can't wait to share memories with you as I make them.

​(And I hope there's some gelato, because I do love it.)

Europe, In Fragments. 1

I am an extremely fortunate, well-traveled girl. As I am approaching my fifth trip to Europe, it occurs to me, as it seems to often these days, that my memory is insubstantial at best.
I have a hard time remembering stories of places I've traveled, or best friends' favorite restaurants, or even arguments I've had with people. I worry that my brain is deteriorating at an abnormal rate, but I also worry that it could be because I'm not a very good listener.

On this upcoming itinerary, I am traveling to Amsterdam, Paris, and Ghent in Belgium. For the former of those three cities, this will be my third trip each.

These are my memories of those places from before.

Amsterdam, 1:
I was 12; it was December. I spent most of the afternoon sleeping, finally understanding the concept of jet lag.
On our way from the hotel to the train station, a homeless man asked us for money. He proceeded to follow us several blocks, my theory is still that he did it because my father was so frustrated by him. I don't remember if my dad gave him money or not.
We went to find somewhere to eat, and I was amazed that people we asked spoke English. We ate Chinese food for Christmas dinner.
The Van Gogh museum was huge, and in my mind it's is the same museum as the Design Hall of the Denver art museum. My mom was so excited to be there, and it's funny to me now that Impressionism and post-Impressionism are my favorite artistic periods, just like they are hers.

Paris, 1: Still 12, still December. Our hotel was tall and skinny. We stayed in a different room from my parents. My brother and I giggled most of the night, and I still remember him saying boys could pee without turning on the lights because they peed in neon. I remember being happy that Ian was my best friend.
We went to the Eiffel Tower, looked up at it, but did not ride up. I thought I would be scared, like it was a roller coaster. We ate a Greek restaurant down the street, and I considered myself more worldly because of it.
The Louvre was gigantic, and we ate at the cafeteria. The Mona Lisa was small, but impeccable. And beautiful.
I couldn't eat enough croissants with jam (and I considered myself more worldly for that, too).

Gelato is worldly too.  And I do love my gelato.