My Denver Stay-cation.

A beautiful thing is happening these days-- I have some time off. Outrageous, I know. I was planning on being in New York City for Spring Break...but because of not-totally-forseen circumstances (hah), I am instead having a little bit of a "stay-cation" right here in the Denver area. It has been and will continue to be in the 70s until tomorrow-ish so I am participating in all my out-doorsy, sun-dressy activities until the snow starts on Thursday. Oh Denver, how you confuse and excite me. 

Since the start of my vacation which also doubles as my last week of being 23 (gasp!), I have done a lot of really cool shit-- pardon my French. I have gone on a Harley ride to gorgeous Golden, went to a poetry slam at The Mercury Cafe with my roomie, went on a great hike in Mount Galbraith Park, beer tasted for the first time ever at Odd13 Brewing, cider tasted at The Old Mine Cidery and Brewpub, stayed the night with one of the best friends I've made since moving to Denver, and connected for the first time with my mom's cousin. Life has been really really fun the past couple days.

The next couple days, however, are a little less "fun" and a little more about planning my future. I'm staying in Denver for at least another year-- yay, seriously. This means, though, that I need to find a full-time job (cue depressing, exhausted music). My time with Mi Casa's Neighborhood Center at North is coming to a close the end of May...and I need to replace that fulfilling job with another one. I don't think making espresso drinks is going to make the "I feel like I'm making a positive difference in people's lives" cut. Luckily I have made some incredible professional connections that have been passing along job openings and I am so grateful.

But despite these awesome connections, I still have to go through the struggle, pain, disappointment, elation, and rigor of applying for all these jobs. Life is fun and busy today...Life will be (hopefully) motivated and busy tomorrow. 

This is Lisa's new puppy in a bag.
We thought it was hilarious-- naturally.

A cool little flower cactus ball on my Mount Galbraith Hike :)

Gluten-reduced (<10ppm) beer at Odd 13 Brewing!

Until next time... :)

Hope in my Back Pocket

I've been really angry lately. I mean, uncharacteristically so. I think this has to be my least favorite emotion. I feel guilty for feeling angry. Does that make sense? Like-- I CAN'T rationalize myself out of sadness...but I CAN rationalize my way out of anger. So why don't I? I feel like when I'm angry (for more than a couple minutes) I'm just unnecessarily stewing on things that don't really matter. It's all the would have's, could have's, should have's. It's regret. It's mixed with sadness. It sucks. I feel angry for being angry. Have you ever felt that way? It's this vicious cycle that I know will end soon but I wish I could end sooner. I feel lost. I feel exhausted for expelling such powerful energy. I want to be happy again-- or at least a smiling version of neutral. I want to be okay. I just want to be able to mean it when people ask "how have you been?" and I say "fine". It's been a rough couple weeks. It's been a rough month. It's been a rough 2015 so far. I'm ready for things to turn around. 

So now I will turn things around, even if the universe isn't ready for me to be "okay" yet. I'm ready and that is all the permission I need to move forward with a smile on my face and hope in my back pocket.

So here are my (new) goals for the rest of 2015. 

Run a half- marathon. 

Write and perform a spoken word poem. 

I run a lot and write a lot when I'm sad and angry anyway. I might as well set some goals to focus my exasperated self. 

Below is one of my favorite TED Talks of all time. The part that focuses on "the dark side of the subjunctive" is actually one of the most healing concepts I've ever wrapped my head around. I feel regret because the English language allows for it. I do not have to feel this way. Not everyone feels this way. Something about that gives me immense relief. I highly encourage you to watch. 

It Can Only Go Up from Here

The past 30 days of life have been a whirlwind in all the worst ways possible. I don't understand how March got so screwed...but it did. And I'm over it.

I am officially staying in Denver. 

I am my main source of happiness.

I am independent. 

Bring it on.

Twenty-three is my Favorite Age

Do you guys know those old beachballs with hand written questions all over it you used in college leadership groups and other get-to-know-you group settings? Well, if you've never seen one, I encourage you to imagine it-- or look it up. 

The other afterschool facilitator and I have been slowly but surely adding questions to this orb in hopes that the students will begin having some more meaningful discussions and share about themselves without feeling like they're diving head first into vulnerability. We've been adding "easy" questions like "What's your favorite color?" and "What's your favorite season and why?" to ease them into talking about themselves. Then one of our students asked to add the following question:

What was/is your favorite age and why?

Some of the students' responses were vulnerable and I'm not sure they even realized it. One of them said when they were 9 because it was before they started having to take responsibility of themselves. Another students said ages 1 to 3 because that was when he lived in Mexico and life was just so much easier than it is now. I think those are very telling responses, I'm not sure if they recognized the same vulnerability, but I was grateful for their courage. 

This question also got me thinking. What was my favorite age and why? Let me indulge you in my response. 

Twenty-three is my favorite age. I am not trying to tell you that I am ridiculously happy right now...because honestly, these past many weeks have been some of the most trying times I've ever gone through, and I'm not happy. 

BUT, this question got me really thinking about what my favorite age is...despite this stretch of trudging my last few months. Here is why 23 is my favorite age:

• I completed a year of service for my country (Shout out to all FEMA Corps Class 20A)
• I moved to a brand new city knowing no one but the people I came with
• I went from having no home and no income in Denver and within two weeks, I had both a room over my head AND a job
• I am expanding my experiences and interests by juggling 4 jobs in 4 completely different categories of work (youth development, coffee, musical education, administrative work)
• I'm slowly overcoming my fear and hatred of networking
• I put my whole heart into making a long distance relationship work for nearly my entire 23rd year
• I ran 75+ miles in the National Mall/Washington, DC when I lived there
• I was givin a glowing letter of recommendation from the Director of Operations at FEMA Headquarters in Washington, DC
• I wrote (the first draft of) a novel
• I made friends in Denver and re-connected with old ones
• I fell in love with working with high school youth...perhaps shaping the path of a future career

There is no denying that life is hard right now. But 23, man. Look at all the cool stuff I did when I was 23! And I mean, those are only the things that were super duper cool that stick out to me. I still know there's even more than that. I completely flipped my life up-side-down when I was 23 and I'm still managing to keep my head above water (even if it's just long enough to breathe).

I turn twenty-four in 18 short days. Any suggestions on how I can end this already badass year with an unforgettable bang? Let me know--after you check out the pictures from my 23rd year below, of course. 

New Friends and Old Friends on St. Patrick's Day 2015.

The wonderful group of women I work with at Mi Casa Neighborhood Center
 at North Campus.

One of the many gorgeous views of the monuments in the National Mall.

The first night in our house. No furniture and hardly enough utensils to cook.

On our way to Denver, CO.

My life-changing AmeriCorps Team, Bayou 6, at our Awards Banquet.

Thanks to all who made 23 the most memorable, challenging, and exciting year of my life. I plan to grow and challenge myself and cry just as much when I'm 24. I hope you'll be a part of it.

A Black Eye is Forming

Today, after struggling to get the students engaged in anything, I had to have a discussion with three students about why they were refusing to be on the same soccer team. This took nearly the entire program time. But don't worry, in the last 2 minutes before programs ended (when I was finally allowed to have a little bit of fun), I managed to take a soccer ball to the face, break my only pair of glasses, get a big ol' gash on the bridge of my nose, and maybe curse a little bit (but hopefully quiet enough that none of the students heard because I'm supposed to practice what I preach, right?)

Please see the progression of embarrassing "selfies" below to fully experience the awkwardness and humor of my very interesting Friday the 13th. I never was much for superstition...but perhaps now my mind has changed. 

The little gash on my nose from my glasses frames breaking.

Emergency surgery on my broken glasses. Thank goodness for super glue.

"When life gives you a soccer ball to the face,
wrap peas on your head." -Shannon T. Conmy
(I give everyone complete permission to quote me on this)

Now let's hope I don't get a black eye. #selfie

Not pictured above is a very humorous interaction between me and my roommate, Kurt. While ordering a new pair of glasses online, I realized I did not know my PD: pupillary distance, aka the distance in millimeters between the center of my pupils. Kurt and I attempted for about 10 minutes to measure the distance with a ruler. It was quite a sight to see. 

Happy Friday the 13th, everyone. Hope you had a great one.