1,001.08

Finally got around to doing another Munk cartoon, albeit a little rushed, but it felt good to do, especially after Jenny showed me the surprise she'd been hiding. It's a stuffed Munk doll an it's one of the cutest things I've ever seen. Saw Jack today, played some backgammon. Skyped with Jenny for two hours. Tried to draw a map of Midtown for Kevin, ran out of space on the paper. Another relatively lazy day, good and simple. I wrote a weird story about some dogs on a boat, inspired by one of Kevin's real-life stories of life on a cruise ship.

1,004.08

I'm literally doing nothing but waiting to leave, now. I've deconstructed my room to its bare essentials. I gave Kevin, the new guy in the attic, the big bed and will spend the rest of the month on my old mattress. My mom's taken a lot of the big set pieces like the TV and such. No art on the walls (but plenty of nail holes). It's just me, Holmes and the record player. It feels nice. It feels clean. Today I paid my last $500 of rent and told Paul that I'd be leaving on the 30th. He made me put that down in writing, than said something racist about the Middle East to send me off with. 

I'm also putting my phone into suspended status, which comes with a small monthly fee but bypasses the reactivation / new plan activation fees that I'd be facing next fall (and the guy threw in unlimited texting for the same price as the 450 text-per-month plan I was currently on). 

E-mailed Janice at Global Ed with a status update and she said everything looks clear so far. Still waiting on financial aid to help with the tickets and insurance. Then I'm set. Probably going to spend the last weekend of January up at Mom's because it's her birthday on the 28th and all. I get the feeling she's gonna cry like she did when I left for Sonoma State, bless her heart. It's only seven months.

Midtown is fantastic and it will be missed.

Yesterday I woke up with plans to go to Wells Fargo for rent cash. Crisp weather. Wore the scarf. Made a stop at Old Soul for a coffee before the walk, saw Nic working with old Mort, who was wired as a terrier, over-stimulated by everything. Say hello to Robby. Notice increased excitement in voice when telling him about Istanbul. Wave to Daniel over at the roaster, leave the coffee-shop, put on sunglasses. Bronywn sneaks up on me. "You're just gonna leave without saying goodbye?" she says. It's good to see her. She gives me a ride to the bank in her new toaster-shaped Scion with a bad-ass looking factory stereo. She's tired from a New Years catering gig. We say goodbye. I wait in line for a teller, make small talk and ask for large bills. Walking home, I don't give change to a homeless woman listening to 90's alternative on her battery-powered radio. Somewhere near the Sandwich Shop, I cross paths with Lance who hadn't been sure it was me since spotting me near Pete's. We small talk about Turkey and head back to Old Soul. I'm still nursing my coffee. He goes inside for a drink and I go home to pay my rent. Paul's not there. Granted, it's still early, so I grab my laptop and backgammon set and head back to Old Soul to do some writing. I give it an hour or so and head home, but Paul's still not there. For a while, I get a little stoned and watch Final Destination 5 and make maybe-plans to hang out with Chris and Katie later, since they still have my Kermit sweater. My new upstairs housemate, Kevin, texts me to see if I'm available for the mattress exchange. We hang out in his room drinking English oatmeal stout and sampling his herbal selection, talking about traveling and some additional details of Kevin's colorful history. We move the mattress. Kevin does most of the hard work. I replace the empty space with my old bed. Ricardo comes home. He opens a beer and suddenly we're all hanging out near Kevin's stairs, talking about things to do around Midtown, Kevin helping Ricardo get a job with Apple's call-center, and the history of the Ottoman Empire. Eventually I retire for the night, postponing those maybe-plans with Chris for a later date. 

Today I'm up early for no reason. I dabble in some literary-journal searching, looking for somewhere to send my Lamp Shop story. I lull around for a while until I think Paul might be downstairs, but he's not. I clean up my room a little more. I go to Old Soul and it's Nic and Mort again and this time I order a breakfast sandwich with my coffee. I sit to do some writing and Bobby's sitting across the table, so we catch up. He tells me to send something to the journal he's an editor for. I do. An old customer, Don, comes in and gives his usual mumble about something-or-another (today it was the article about technology invading Idaho's public education). Tim settles in with a newspaper, chatting about the ridiculousness of people in this world and the tenacity of Ron Paul. A guy I met on a trip to the movies with Melissa, Samir and Sarah a couple months ago sits across the table from me. I've forgotten his name but I surmised that he and Melissa were dating. I tell him about Istanbul. I hear him on the phone talking about an e-mail he received from someone working on the Obama campaign. After I head back home, Paul's in his office and it's time to pay my rent. I also give him my moving-out notice. Then I call AT&T and schedule my phone for suspension while I'm gone. In a while, I head over to Brady's for two games of chess and some time spent around cats. We decide to try out the new Squeeze Inn Burger, stopping at my place for a moment long enough for Ricardo to ask to come along. The three of us find out that the Squeeze Inn has a 45-minute wait time. I'm not waiting 45 minutes for a cheeseburger. We're off to Mr. Pickles, but Brady veers toward home since he's just along for the conversation and Ricardo and I find random things to talk about and each drop a few details about ourselves. He's going through a relationship transition from long-distance (eight years) to no-distance that isn't going as smoothly as he'd wish. It makes me grateful that Jenny and I have April planned, plus the summer, because it would probably drive me crazy to be apart from her for much longer. After lunch, I shell up in my room for the afternoon and watch a movie and hear something promising back from one of those literary journals I found earlier, so I send them the last few pages of the Lamp Shop and cross my fingers. I've cleared up some more things from my room and tidied the disorder. I've got to get Kelly her bookshelf back, unless she doesn't want it--I don't remember if she said she wanted it or not. Also, I think she said she'd hold onto the record player. If she still feels like hosting a Kick-Back night tonight, I can ask her later. News flash: she's come down with the cold. Anyway, I've got an addiction to indie puzzle platformers that needs to be tended to, so I'm set for the evening. For some reason the church down the street plays the Star Spangled Banner with its bell. It's beautiful.

1,093.92

"Don't get old," my grandfather says, searching for the right pair of glasses to read the installation instructions. My younger sister laughs. Grandpa's a kooky guy. I thought it might've been an awkward visit since I hadn't seen him in years (how many, I don't even know), but I found myself genuinely enjoying the company of the family's original black sheep. I have no idea what it is that he does with his life, but he gives the impression that it's not much, save for spending time with the 80-year-old woman in the mobile home next to his. Hers was clean and tidy and spacious enough to feel like any other home I'd ever visited, mobile or otherwise, like the suite of some Midwestern hotel. My grandfather's was a cluster of garage sale decorations, trinkets, filing cabinets with letter-labeled plastic drawers, and a pint-sized kitchen unnecessarily packed with the kitchen supplies of a chef. "Welcome to linear living," he says as I look at everything and realize that though a lot has changed, the feeling of the place stays the same. Honestly, I think the last time I visited Grandpa was during high school, back when I was so infatuated with surround sound that I wanted my mother to trade our system for his because his had the option for DTS (the supposedly better surround sound...). Like I did around all old people, I stayed quite and spoke when spoken to and rarely uttered more than a few paragraphs of conversation. I always finished my plate. I smiled and nodded and hugged. It was easy to get by, as a kid. Nowadays, I'm glad to say that I have an innate interest in getting to know my family, but I also recognize how my role as a family member has changed. They are less like background noise and more involved with my life now. They want to know my opinion and share with me theirs, like adults, like real people. It's been a slow transition from kid to adult from the eyes of my parents. Yes, it seems quick in retrospect, but the art of aging is really a very slow process. The more I realize this, the more I see the length and journey of life spreading out before me, the younger I feel. The best way I can put this feeling to words is: As I'm growing up, I feel less like a grown up. The more I find out where my family members have scattered to, what they do for a living, what kind of lives they lead, I see immediate examples of life's diversity. Unlike school, where all your friends are students on the same path as you, the real world is full of people doing their own thing, however and whenever they want to. What I'm seeing more of, and paying attention to, is what people feel about their choices. I'm seeing the loneliness of a divorced man converted into an extroverted, bubbly personality. I'm seeing young people starting their own businesses. I'm noticing that people are waiting until their thirties to have babies. I see the same problems in other families. I see that there is an inevitability to much of life. I see how easily I could become any of these people. All of them strive for happiness in such different ways. How we even get along long enough for a three-day vacation is beyond me. I think what I've learned that feels the most important is the value of the family bond, not only among the family you're given, but the family you can create, the generations you can teach the lessons we were taught as children.

1,609.82

I think this is when things start to move really quickly.

My mom dropped me off at home after our overnight visit to Grandpa in Napa, and she left with my television, my desk, some of my art, some of my books, my videogames and my mirror. 

Now I'm in the middle of a musical flashback, listening to all the songs that played a big role in the past year. Next: "Wake Up" by Dr. Dog. 

Iven might come down the hill to hang out later, now with the added weight of this being "The Last Month," which means there's not a moment to be wasted. Yes, I'll be back in seven months, but who knows where life may take my friends while I'm gone? Iven might be in Hawaii by then.

Crazy to think about, but I'm 28 days from life in another country. This is the part of the amusement park line where you can see the platform where people are boarding the rollercoaster. You get that flutter in your gut. Secretly, you look for the emergency exits, just in case, but really you're trying to decide which row you want to sit in. 

My room is dissolving around me, just as planned. Weird to see it happening. There's still a lot of stuff to take care of. My mom thinks I should have that root canal done on Tooth 13 before I leave. I wish I hadn't mentioned it... She's probably right. Then I've gotta cancel my phone service. I've got to tell Paul that I'm moving out and pay the last month's rent. I've got to see Tim about getting a hold of my W2 before I leave, if possible. I've got some paperwork to finish with Global Education and, of course, the purchasing of my last two plane tickets. 

Also, good news: I got this e-mail from the Superdorm telling me that my wire transfer was successful, so I now officially have a place to live. 

Hi,

 

Jan 5th is the deadline for the money to go out on your side and sending of the bank doc for proof. It does take sometime up to 2 weeks depending on the "sending" bank. Luckily however, your funds transfer already reflected in our account as 2.360,- Euros the difference being broker's commission (not our bank) which is deducted from the security deposit.

 

Yours,

Superdorm Office

Also, forgot I took some decent photos in Colorado.

1,669.82

 

Truth be told, New Years is one of my favorite holidays. 

But just like last year, I'll be spending this New Years without the festivities, without the champagne and the countdown, without the crowds and the cheering and the midnight kissing. 

Still, it's an important day. It's a landmark that everyone shares, the day when they can stop and look back at the past 12 months of their life and see where things have changed or stayed the same, improved or gotten worse. They can look back at a time when they had no idea where their life was going to lead. Did you expect to be where you are tonight? Did you expect any of this?

I'm proud to say that I expected none of this. The year 2011 has been full of surprises and plot twists and new experiences and unforeseen consequences and life-changing decisions. It's amazing how much can happen in 365 days. Hell, it's amazing how much can happen in 24 hours. It was a goal of mine this year to make sure that I was making the most of my time on this planet, that I wasn't avoiding experiences out of fear, that I wasn't too shy to meet new people, that I wasn't blind to the beauty that the world has to offer. This is easier said than done, however, and I'm sure there were still plenty of times where I held back... But, for the most part, I look at 2011 and I see a year of experimentation and exploration, both within myself and within the world around me. 

Suffice to say, 2011 was definitely the year of the rabbit.

A year ago today, I was being aggressively single and nonchalant. It was fun. It was a departure from the long-term relationships that I was used to. Working at Old Soul, I had a crush on every pretty girl across the counter, and some of them became friends, some of them became more than friends, and some of them changed my life forever. I didn't know. I was living in the present. There was a part of me that wanted to make a complete mess of things, to put myself in harrowing situations just because I could, just for the experience. I was looking for rock bottom. For a while, I took my heart out of the equation, more concerned with the physical pleasures of life and the rush of adrenaline you feel from not knowing what tomorrow will bring or if you'll be able to afford rent next month.

It was a time when I felt like I was finally fitting into my skin, like I was finally figuring myself out. I had a good set of friends forming. I was starting to grow weary of my career in coffee-shops. I made a world for myself. I got accepted into grad school. I tutored at an elementary school for a few weeks. Then I met Jenny and everything changed. From the Santa Cruz beaches to the bonfires to the walks through K Street to late nights with a bottle of wine to a matinee at Tower to the family dinners to the Sacramento airport. We met at just the right time.

It was a time when I embraced Sacramento as my starter-city and knew that there were bigger, better things out there waiting for me, but I would need to figure out my life and make a plan first. My dusty English degree and my unending urge for "something more" is what drove me to interview with the Peace Corps, and it was the Peace Corps that inspired me to apply for the TESOL program at Sac State. For the first time since graduation, I had a real goal to pursue, and it felt great.

Now I've got reservations for a flight on January 30, 2012 for a semester abroad in Turkey. After finals are over, I'm aiming for South Korea for a summer abroad before returning to the states to continue grad school in Sacramento.

Who woulda known?

I was still hooked on Mumford and Sons when the year began, which led to the Railroad Revival Tour in the summer with Jenny, and this the year's soundtrack turned out to be rather incredible, with some new bands becoming instant favorites. I fell for Bon Iver, Of Monsters and Men, AWOLNATION, Washed Out, H. Letham, The Naked and Famous, Phantogram, Dr. Dog, Grouplove, Manchester Orchestra, Young the Giant, Cold War Kids, Lissie Maurus, The XX, The Department of Eagles, Two Gallants, Cage the Elephant, Yeasayer, Frightened Rabbit, The Builders and The Butchers, Cherry Ghost, Grandaddy, The Airborne Toxic Event, I Monster, The National, TV On The Radio, Matthew Dear, Murder By Death, The Temper Trap, El Ten Eleven, Florence and The Machine, The Kooks, and--last but not least--the discovery of dubstep.

All of this music possesses the power to evoke a unique memory, like the night Jenny and I slept on the living room floor in the middle of a San Francisco house-party after seeing Washed Out at the Great American Music Hall. "Pumped Up Kicks" was our (and everyone's) summer song. I was, at one point, absolutely addicted to Gouplove's "Colours." Shaun introduced me to a half-dozen great bands while also being part of his own band, H. Letham, which I was lucky enough to see perform a half-dozen times before he left for Colorado. 

This was the year that I fell in love, quit my job and went back to school.

I went to Santa Cruz, to Concord, to Redwood City, to San Francisco, to Los Angeles, to San Diego, to Denver, to Breckenridge, to Roseville, to Davis, to Sausalito, to Tracy, to Stockton, to Santa Rosa, to Auburn and back again. 

Looking back at what I'd been writing in my original blog, I remember predicting a departure from Sacramento in August, when my year-lease ran up. I thought I'd move to San Francisco or something. Little did I know, I'd end up at grad school with plans to study abroad in Istanbul. Little did I know, I'd meet Jenny. Little did I know, I'd still be looking out the same bedroom window that I was looking out last New Year's Eve.

This was the year of the bonfire.

I taught myself and my friends how to play backgammon. I created a cartoon character named Munk. I wrote a book or two. I wrote a screenplay. I didn't get anything published, but didn't try that hard, though I did submit more things this year than ever before. I donated all of my DVDs to Goodwill. I bought a MacBook Air from Lance for half price. I shot a 9mm handgun for the first time. I cancelled my car insurance, gave my car to Iven and started riding the bus more. I ate a lot of thin-crust artisan pizza. I drank a lot of red wine and Pabst. I bought a desk from Grocery Outlet. I bought my first vinyl record (Modest Mouse - "The Moon and Antarctica"). I saw a lot of live music. I said goodbye to good friends and made a lot of new ones. I used Skype for the first time. I became an involved reader of Turkish news reports. I got a new camera. I got straight A's in my first semester back at school. I researched the education bubble. I started this new blog. I visited almost every member of my immediate family, at least once. I sat on the windowsill, smoked a lot of pot and watched the seasons change. I learned the proper way to shoot a basketball. I took a lot of photographs. I focused on honesty and told very few lies. I spent a lot of time sitting on the floor next to Holmes, my faithful space heater. I tutored a third grader. I finally started eating mushrooms again. I tried all sorts of new food. I got my first postcard from South Korea. I started wearing a scarf. I went through four or five different pairs of sunglasses. I lost some clothing along the way. I got a projector. I got a tent, used it once. I went to more music festivals this year. I paid off my credit card with financial aid. I drove the eight-hour stretch from Sacramento to San Diego on Interstate-5 (and survived). I unsuccessfully tried to apply for health insurance. I had my gums cleaned. I put the Peace Corps plan on hold. I attempted a garden with Jenny, but it failed. I turned 24. I ate a lot of ramen noodles. I walked along the rusty platform beneath the Auburn train bridge. I did yoga for a while. I went to the Crocker Art Museum a couple times. I was temporarily wrapped up in education reformation. I got HIV tested (negative results). I wore a pair of Toms. I caught a couple colds, but nothing too serious. I met Jenny's family. I was there when Old Soul opened their new location in the airport. I shared my room with Jenny for a month or so and inherited her bed after she left. I rode with her dad to the airport on the morning she left for South Korea. 

This was the year of the tsunami in Japan, the end of the Iraq War, the death of Bin Laden and Steve Jobs, the flurry of 3D, Uncharted 3, the Occupy movement and the rise of the touchscreen.

Personally, 2011 will always be remembered as the year I met Jenny. If there were awards that I could hand out, I'd give her "Person of the Year." How could I not? As soon as she entered my life around the end of January, nothing was the same. We'd both agree that our weekend getaway to Santa Cruz was where it happened. How does that quote go? "When I saw you I fell in love and you smiled because you knew."

We met at Old Soul. We were drawn together. That weekend in Santa Cruz was supposed to be a big gathering of folks, but everyone else backed out, and yet the two of us still ventured to the coast together, strangers at the time. From the very beginning the relationship felt natural and organic. She brought me purpose and direction. I gave her a world where she could be herself again. Together we explored Sacramento, made new friends, created a tradition and spent every other moment in each others' arms. We loved completely, we trusted and we shared. We grew closer and closer every day, building a foundation that would be strong enough to stand the test of long-distance. 

I won't be with her again until we meet in Istanbul in April, 2012.

She changed my life for the better. She has been a crucial part of the formation of my future, the rest of my life, the way I see the world and the way that I love. 

2011 is going to be gone in less than twelve hours.

For making this an eclectic and eventful year, thanks go out to Sean, to Iven, to Kelly and Shaun, to Paul and Melinda, Chris and Katie, Rob and Sarah, to Bobby and Lilly, to Nic and Ashley, to Chris and Chris and Lance and Meredith, Jessica, Bronwyn, Jake, Cody, Tyler, Hank, Drew and Amber, to Kirsten and Katie, to Aly and to Bryce, to Tessa and Mary, to Jessica and Peter, to John and Jade and Gary and Celena and Cayla, to Brendan and Melissa, to Devon and Lucky and Tim and Jason, to John and Amy, to Tim and Greg, to Tony and Mark, to Jenn and Julianne and Murphy and Jeremiah, to Gabby, to the Old Soul Morning Group, to Andy, to Melanie and Lane, to Brady and Ana, to Sarge, to Inga and Arielle, to Jesse and Amy, to Meg and David, to Diana, to Erin, to Sonya and Brandt, to Jason and Jennifer and Baby Jack, to Jack and Joe, to Daniel, Alan and Rita, to Stephanie, Ciera, Mort, Max and Kat, to Daniel, Allie and Nick, to Patsy and Cole and Tamara and Leila, to Rasim and to all the random people I met across the counter, through tutoring, through traveling and through dumb luck. Thank you all. And, of course, to my family for always being there.

Cheers.

1,442.68

I woke up this morning to find this in my e-mail:

Hi Chris,

 

We regret to tell you that the FedEx delivery with your contract and pictures were held in the Turkish customs because "declared value of 111,- Dollars exceeds the limit allowed!" This is what we were told when we called the FedEx people. It is simply bad writing that the first figure which is a Dollar sign looks very much like "1". The result is that  the Dorm Manager is asked to go all the way out to the airport customs, pay handling charge of about $15,- plus customs duty of about the same amount to pick up the envelope. The FedEx people in Turkey do not appear to be willing to help at all. Meanwhile,  our manager Ms.Selamioglu emailed the FedEx Customer Support as well.

 

We now ask you to please bring another set of signed contract and 2 pictures with you to submit during check in.

 

It might be a good idea though to inform the FedEx Office in Sacremento so that someone with more legible handwriting can write the outgoing documents.

 

Yours,

Superdorm Office

So I guess this means they're not going to bother with FedEx anymore and I don't think the Dorm Manager is going to pay the fees to pick up my documents. But that misprinted dollar sign hasn't stalled my application process, it seems, because it sounds like they'll accept the envelope's arrival as proof enough that I want to move in, so now I just have to bring hard-copies with me when I get there. I sent them a reply e-mail to verify this information, and to ask them about the wire transfer, and hopefully things will smooth out just fine. Unless they're being dead serious, I'm glad to see that the Superdorm Office has a sense of humor.

Goddamn FedEx. This is going on Yelp for sure.

1,442.68

MONDAY

I’m half-asleep when my mom’s alarm starts ringing in the other room at the same time my phone begins to buzz. We’re up at 3:30 AM. My sister groans. Outside, it’s close to freezing temperature and the city of Auburn is dead quiet. Into the car we pack our tired bodies and my luggage, and then we’re off to pick up my grandmother from the coffee shop where she’s waiting outside in the early-morning fog. I help toss her heavy polka-dot suitcase into the back of the truck as the Auburn Courthouse glows golden in the background.

The good thing about driving this early is all the lights are green. We take the freeway to the airport. We all say our goodbyes and give our good wishes. My grandmother and I trek inside to see SMF’s new B Terminal, which is super snazzy and organized, and we get our tickets and we check our bags and we take an escalator (passing the Old Soul) up to the tram that takes us to the boarding gates across the tarmac. Everything is new in this part of the airport. I’m finally starting to wake up as we pass through the security check-point and I’m randomly selected for special x-ray treatment, then shuffled along with the other post-Christmas travelers as we hurry to put our shoes back on and gather our belongings.

We’re ninety minutes early, so we get breakfast and play backgammon and wait until 6:00 AM when the bar starts serving alcohol and I get a mimosa and grandma goes for a screwdriver. We chat with the bartender for a while until our plane begins boarding and the next thing I know, we’re in row 5 and I’ve got the aisle seat. There’s a screen on the seatback in front of me. The woman across the aisle from me looks like a nervous wreck. I start reading “A Farewell to Arms” and can’t help but hear the voice of the actor who played Hemingway in “Midnight in Paris” as the prose distracts me from the safety announcement and the chit-chat going on between my grandma and the woman sitting to her left by the window. Our plane has to be de-iced so it takes a few extra minutes to get to the runway.

Then we’re at cruising altitude.

I read a little, sleep a little, watch a little TV and suddenly we’re landing. We’re in Denver and I can see the snow-capped Rocky Mountains outside the window. The airport is crowded. Here I am, in Denver, traveling about and seeing new things. Sure, I’ve been to Denver before, but not in over four years, not since I was an underage drinker at my uncle’s wedding. Now I’m older and wiser and more captivated by the world around me. I soak in the newness. We make it outside to the passenger pick-up area with our luggage and Brett arrives with his wife, Megan, a few minutes later to whisk us away.

We’re staying at Megan’s parents’ house in the heart of a snow-covered neighborhood that makes me think of the neighborhood from A Christmas Story. I half-expect to see Ralph running around with his Red Rider BB-Gun, shooting his eye out. Or maybe we’ll turn the corner and see Charlie Brown and Linus sitting on a stone wall contemplating life, love and the pursuit of happiness. When we get to the house, Sonny and Mary-Anne welcome us inside. Good people. Grandma and I are shown our rooms (I’m in the basement on the couch) and then we’re eating brunch in the kitchen. The house is very lovely and comfortable with nice things everywhere. Three little dogs run around on the hardwood floors, stopping occasionally to stare out the window at the birds and squirrels in the backyard. I’m sitting at the bar between the kitchen and the living room and Megan’s family won’t stop feeding me. Soon it’s time to continue our journey to Boulder.

None of this looks familiar. The last time I was in this town was before Brett was married. It’s like I was too busy looking at my shoelaces all the time or something. I’m excited to revisit Boulder with open eyes and a traveler’s curiosity. I love the snow on the ground and everyone in their winter coats. I love the colorful storefronts and little homes with smoking chimneys. We visit the college campus where Megan points out her old sorority house and Brett, who met Megan here, brings us by his old apartment (the one I visited years ago). We get drinks at a place called Salt, then jump back into the truck and return to Denver. I’m feeling a little over-stuffed and sleepy, so I keep quiet, chiming in with a couple bits of dialogue so as to feel included, finding it bizarre how even at 24 years old I can still feel like the child in the group. I forget sometimes that 24 is still really young. Also, how can I contribute to conversation when it revolves around building careers, buying homes and making families? I’m not there yet. I’ve got to finish grad school first.

Back in Denver, the evening consists of a half-dozen games of Askew, a Manhattan, a couple glasses of wine, a delicious dinner, visits from other family members and more gift opening. Megan’s family—and, by extension, my family—was very welcoming and warm. It was easy to feel like part of the group, despite how rarely I’d seen or spoke to these people. I found this rather beautiful and it made me appreciate the value of a happy home. Slowly people began to disappear to fall asleep and I eventually made my way to the couch downstairs where I watched the Jenny Love-Letter video, longed for her, then dreamt about her as I slept.

TODAY

In the morning grandma went on a walk with Mary-Anne around the neighborhood while Brett took his dog to see the vet, so I spent my first hour of the day writing in the basement. Once it sounded like people were upstairs, I joined them for coffee and conversation, which stretched until around noon when Brett, Megan, grandma and I left for Breckenridge.

This little town nestled in the Rocky Mountains was ridiculously picturesque and full of bundled families and snow-capped rooftops. I took a dozen photos from the backseat of the truck, captivated by the snowy mountains sprouting up around us and the forests and the frozen lakes and icy rivers. Our journey took us to the house of Gretchen, a friend of Brett & Megan's who had a baby boy she wanted to show off. The house had amazing views of the mountains; the baby had amazing blue eyes. 

Fun as it was to tag along, the visit was more of a taste of parenthood for my uncle and his wife who want to start a family soon. I'm still a few life spaces behind them, so my interest in the baby waned quickly, and thankfully we only stuck around the house for a few minutes before heading into town for lunch. I will admit that I was inspired when I saw the kid and the way my uncle and Megan handled him and how Gretchen, the mother, was glowing with pride and love and happiness. I could see how life-altering and exciting it would be to start a family. I made a mental note of that feeling, then reminded myself that I've got a lot to do before I'm ready for that. We had lunch at Gretchen's husband's (co-owned) restaurant, then parted ways and returned to Denver.

The evening consisted of a Chinese food feast, a Skype session with Jenny, a failed-attempt at playing Rock Band with Brett, some idle time outside by the gas fire-pit, a few glasses of wine, some family tension, a lot of dog petting and some time spent researching the Turkish-Armenian conflict. Now I'm about to go to bed on the couch in the basement and tomorrow there are no official plans, save for perhaps a reunion with Shaun in the late afternoon. I'd like to go walk around the neighborhood and take a few more photos. Maybe Brett and I can figure out how to get Rock Band to work. Tomorrow is my last full day in Denver before the train ride home and I'm pretty happy that, as the title of this post reveals, I haven't spent a single dime.