coming home.

hello, old friend. it’s nice to see you again. I started writing publically almost exactly a year ago. the plan was to have a one stop shop for my adventure photography, cutesy DIY projects, and silly, relatively irrelevant rants. in the blogger world, it was … Continue reading

what i’ve learned.

yesterday I celebrated my 24th birthday. my alarm went off at 4:30am. I popped out of my sleeping bag with a cloud of feathers. it’s actually my mother’s sleeping bag. it’s a shade of light blue that matches her eyes. it’s been … Continue reading

DIY: daily affirmation cards.

DIY Daily Affirmation Cards

MUSIC CHOICE: 90s hip hop pandora station a daily affirmation jar is a place you go every morning to find one word that will inspire you throughout your day. it’s a super simple and quick project that you’ll never regret … Continue reading

how to fall back asleep in the middle of the night.


Step 1.) wake up in the middle of the night, preferably around 3:30 am or so. Step 2.) lay awake for the first hour worrying about your job, your goals, your life, etc. Step 3.) turn on david gray pandora … Continue reading

mountain connection: january print edition.

papa & me

in case you aren’t one of 20,000 homes in the colorado foothills regions that receives the mountain connection (positive news) monthly paper (or maybe you are, but just missed it), here’s an article i wrote for the january 2013 theme: … Continue reading

the year of the psychopath.

at this moment i’m listening to my bathtub fill with steamy hot water. i’m eating ben & jerrys (mint chocolate cookie or something similarly delicious). it’ 7:52pm. on a saturday.  please understand that it pains me to admit that i’m eating the most cliche at-home dessert on the most cliche of all days of the week, alone, while filling the tub for a bath (seriously, excuse me while i go throw up). but yes, on special occasions i even put on a real wire bra instead of my go-to best friend, the sports bra. sometimes i even paint my fingernails (or have someone do it for me). sometimes when the planets align and i’ve recently watched a brilliantly made hallmark commercial, i succumb to girl world. look, it’s been a rough week. (for the record, i hate gender stereotypes. show me a man who wouldn’t love to eat ice cream and plunge into a porcelain bath. seriously, show me. unless he’s lactose intolerant, you can’t).

since the turn of the calendar into 2013, i’ve been in a funk, and not the james brown kind. i slipped on ice and ate it in my parking lot (no one was around to see, but i’m sure the youtube video from a neighboring window will build a view count even sneezing pandas can’t compete with). my computer died and then came back to life and then died again. i lost my money playing video poker (when i usually break even and/or clean house). i budgeted and crunched numbers, then robbed a bank, and finally decided i would invest in a new computer, to which the red shirted apple employee said, “sold out. until february.” i got the flu. i’ve had it ever since. add on a rough day at work and the fact that i’ve been watching episode after episode of it’s always sunny in philadelphia and there’s your explanation to the ice cream and the tub dip. (seriously, watching repeated episodes of that show WILL make you feel like a terrible person. at first it’s funny. then it’s just sad. then suddenly you’re watching a bunch of racists/sexists/alcoholics trying to get a dumpster baby into a tanning salon bed for their own personal gain, and you realize that you yourself are just as horrible as “the gang.”)

worst of all, i’ve been easily annoyed by people who have done nothing upsetting. take away all my rants and feeling sorry for myself, this is when it turns into not ok. but despite my normal can-do attitude, my attempts to remind myself of my adopted mantra “happiness is a choice” and other care bear rainbow feel goodery, i’m just grumpy, and down, and sick (flu, y’all, like miss 3 1/2 days of work, nose is a faucet, sound like you’ve been a chain smoker for 142 years, coughing up lungs, kleenex should start endorsing me, really, really, ridiculously sick).

so it all just feels like crap.

i have to acknowledge that these are all what they call “first world” problems. no one i know has died during my funk. no one is terminally ill (that i know of). i’m complaining about replacing my old mac computer with another mac computer. the fact that i’m using the word “funk” means that none of this is crucial, or even that important. i get it, shut up white girl. i couldn’t agree more.

normally i try my best to share stories of new found hope, finding myself, silver linings, good vibes, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah. when i share them, i really mean them from the bottom of my heart. it’s part because i believe we all need a little more positivity in our lives. it’s part because i need to believe for myself that despite all of the hardships we encounter, no matter what number world we come from, our fate and our happiness lie in our hands (at least in part- attitude of gratitude, ya’ll).

but seeing as i’m horrible at vulnerability, intimacy, and more, i rarely admit when i’m not ok. there are few people i open up to, and i cringe with the thought of publicly announcing it. i usually hole up with high calorie desserts, movies like sleepless in seattle, and albums like damien rice’s O on repeat. a few days later, i’m back to “me” and re-enter the world without anyone ever knowing. add on not shaving, and it’s basically like being a werewolf.

maybe it’s the turn of the new year, maybe it’s my new found word vomit hobby that appears here twice a week, but i’ve decided i need to start being ok with not being ok.

so forget the lunar new year and forget the snake. 2013 is the year of the crazy girl. we all have our ups and downs. we all have our holes and mountains. it’s about time i started admitting it.

so here it goes: i’m a werewolf psychopath. and you know what? it’s ok, even when it’s not.

you’re ok.

at the gym last week, i tried the elliptical machine for the first time.

i’ve only recently started frequenting the gym at all. mostly it’s because i like to play outside. i like to hike and swim and climb. i like to breath fresh air and get wet in the rain and splash mud all of over my legs. i mean all. over. secondly, i think using a machine works muscles in your body that aren’t meant to be worked. it can often lead to oversized arms and tiny calves (sorry boys, but if all you do is lift, you really do look dumb). that’s not always the case, but it often is. however my office has a gym and daylight savings just ended so the sun comes up at noon-thirty and goes down at noon-thirty two (no, i’m not in alaska. yes, i am exaggerating) and i work from 8-6 so i never see the light of day. therefor, i’ve started going to the gym.

because i find treadmills to be the most offensive of machines, and i have a (self-diagnosed) torn(ish) hip flexor, i just ride the stationary bike. i’m usually the only girl at the gym in the mornings. i ride hard and i sweat and i don’t care who sees. i listen to podcasts of alec baldwin interviewing republicans or ira glass sharing stories on prostitution or babysitting or both (and yes, both men are on my “cheat list“). i feel good. i like it. but last week, for some reason, i decided to try something new.

now normally it wouldn’t be a big deal for a semi-gym goer to try something new. it’s actually very healthy for mind and body to do so. but for me, at least for the last year and a half, i wouldn’t even look at an elliptical machine. with one shoe off, my father was found in the gym on said machine. he had a heart attack. he died. i often talk about my dad, about how i miss him, and what losing him means to me, but i don’t often talk about that day when it all happened. it’s because it can’t be changed or justified, and there’s really nothing left to say. but it’s part of my world and i do think about it. i think about it every day. it may be irrational or childish or both, but for some time i’ve blamed the elliptical machine. i’ve felt like using it would be like fraternizing with the enemy and the last thing i need is to end up in some ben affleck/jennifer lopez flop, so i’ve just steered clear. of course we’ve since learned that my father had undiagnosed heart disease and heart failure could have happened any time, any where. it’s actually ironic that it happened in a gym, the place where people go to be healthy, to make their hearts strong, to keep living.

so last thursday i swallowed the dry feeling in my throat and tried it out. at first my heart pounded more than it should, not from exercise, but from anxiety. my palms started to sweat, not from overheating, but from shear fear. i know that it may sound silly to be afraid of an inanimate object, especially one that usually doesn’t let you go above 12 mph. i can’t explain it or really justify it, but i was. “elliptical machine” sat on my fear list right after “spiders” and just before “people who believe in legitimate rape.” i was truly afraid of it. but i slowly got into rhythm. the motion felt good, like hiking. by the end, i didn’t lose a shoe. i didn’t die. i actually felt connected to my dad. in fact, i can’t remember the last time i could breath so openly.

i recently read “happiness is when what you think, say, and do are all in alignment.” by stepping two feet solidly onto that machine, and starting to move, i was thinking, “i’m going to be ok,” i was saying, “you’re going to be ok” and i really was “ok.” for me, that’s just one literal step closer to happy.

tomorrow morning i’ll get up at 6. i’ll go to the gym to use the elliptical machine and it will be ok.

this week i challenge you to think, say, and be ok, too.