Happy Easter!

I think that I might have the flu.
It's Easter and I've got naught to do.
So off to work I float with the breeze,
to sling some drinks and spread disease.

One of the loveliest things I realized this morning is when I move my boiling tea kettle back over the hot burner briefly as to set it on a cool one, it makes a little whirring sound that is reminiscent of a very tiny, very excited pachyderm. I imagine he is rearing up in his little aluminum circus ring while the Lilliputian crowd bubbles with awe and amazement and this miniscule, great creature. All the while I'm just floating somewhere high above them drinking tea.

Funeral Processions

Funeral. If you break that word up you are looking at the words "real" and "fun." Ironic, eh?

So I'd been feeling a bit down lately, things just weren't going the way I wanted them to go and this morning I was like, "Buck up, kiddo! Go make some good things happen for yourself!" So I got out the flight voucher I'd been holding onto for a year and made a flight to New York for tomorrow to spend a couple days with one of my best friends. I started doing laundry and running errands, getting everything squared away for my trip. I needed one more stop at the grocery store to make sure Lambert had everything he would need while I was gone, including a new squeaky squirrel. So there we were, Lambert and myself, enjoying the sunshine, singing to the radio, thinking about how lucky I was to have so many amazing friends in such lovely places to visit when we see the police car with its lights on coming in the other lane. Following suit, we pulled over to wait for the funeral procession to pass. As I sat there watching the cars with their dark sunglassed passengers slowly follow their loved one down Patton Avenue my face when quickly from smile to frown. Unfortunately, I wasn't frowning because I was sad for their loss, trying to sympathize, nothing like that. It was just that this unknown person's last moment in the sun had just made me feel like such a jerk for my silly, simple, newly inspired happiness. I mean, don't get me wrong, I respect the tradition and I am sorry for the loss of this person. I suppose I will even want my last bit of attention when I go but really...it is just kind of a good juju crusher. Everyone is just pulled over on the side of the road and for a variety of reasons the only thing they can think to themselves right now is "damn."

Like all things, including that person and the mild traffic back-up their grieving had caused, that feeling did pass. When we got home, Lambert and I went outside to break in the squirrel toy and finally decided that there wasn't a whole lot that we could do about everyone else and together we slipped squeakily back into our silly, simple happiness. Rest in peace, our traffic clogging friend.

the rain, like my laundry, is unceasing.
my tea, like my dog, is comforting.
this blanket, like your arms, in encompassing.
my happiness, like this poem, is complete.

What's in a name? That which we call a burrito by any other name would taste as delicious.

Being new to Asheville, my new roommate is always trying to show me the spots in town that "I have to know about!" Today for lunch we went to this "healthy" semi-fast food burrito shop. Someone stop me when you hear something that doesn't sound quite right. 

Upon entering this establishment I start searching the paper menu that has been shoved into my hand...Carribean jerk, thai, curry, greek (isn't that a gyro???)...sooooo you're telling me that you don't make any Mexican style burritos? Just because it's in a tortilla with rice, beans and cheese and comes with a side of salsa doesn't make you a burrito!!!! Wait...does it?

The definition of a burrito that pops up on my dashboard (I'm a Mac!) is "a Mexican dish consisting of a tortilla rolled around a filling, typically of beans or ground or shredded beef." Huh, well paint me orange and call me Cheddar, they are burritos!!! Thank you, Lucky Otter for opening my eyes. Also thank you for making that cheese that doesn't even solidify when you take it home and put it in the refrigerator. 

Ladybugs: Not just a movie about cross dressing soccer players anymore...

So as it happens, ladybugs have always been considered a symbol of luck. It is most commonly believed to have been due to their eating pests that destroyed crops. I myself, have no crops to speak of except the pumpkin on my front porch and that has a face so I am not sure it really counts. The other day while cleaning my room I noticed a little ladybug wander in and smiled to myself as I thought of my impending good luck. It wasn't long before I noticed my bug had brought a few friends. Cute! and I shall have such good luck! Aren't I the lucky one?! Indeed I shall be!

I now have the most adorable infestation in my house. Apparently ladybugs seek lightly colored, older houses to stay hydrated and protected in the winter. I live in one of these exact cozy shelters. Ladybugs are also apparently really hard to encourage to vacate their shelter after they've found one and are particularly warm hosts that give off scents that attract their buddies from all around. While ladybugs aren't particularly harmful (they don't eat fabrics or bite you) they are still bugs and enough is enough! Immediate action has become necessary!

Today I sprayed the outside of my doors and windows with spider poison. I would like to point out that I did not aim said poison at any of my little ladies, I was merely trying to deter their attempts to enter my home. A little later I walked out my back door and found several bugs on their backs...shit. I began immediately to be short of breath and have pain in my chest. The bad luck begins and I'm having a panic attack! Or I am still inhaling poisonous fumes and should get out of the alcove? Removing myself from the alcove seems to have done the trick. 

While my intentions were good, I sit here in my room wondering if my actions were too rash...can human, mutt and bug not live together in peaceful companionship through the rough winter? Have I just cursed the beginning of my 27th year and new life in Asheville?! Will my dog and I suffer long term affects of those poisonous fumes just like the innocent creatures I've just murdered in cold bug?!?! Am I overreacting!?!?!?!  I suppose that's a possibility...

Not being sure quite what to do, I linger on my back porch at sunset, hope a small prayer for my newly deceased friends and ponder if infestation can really be counted as good luck in the first place. Either way, I've made my peace with my new housemates and have already begun to look forward to spring.

Expert Advice: Thoughts on trail running in colorado

My uncle Sam is this great runner. I mean, that's what he does for fun. Tonight I asked him what it is that he thinks about when he's running. I've had a lot of problems with boredom as well as intense hatred of said action so I was looking for a new direction. He told me that he likes to number the things that he is worried about and he goes down the list, doing what he can to either solve or come to terms with each worry. I decided to give this approach a try so Lambert and I suited up and set off, ipodless, to find a trail to run. 

While we were driving to a trail that we particularly like, I started thinking about what I really needed to dig into and work out for myself. What was I really going to accomplish tonight? A few things started to pop into my mind, a shower gift for Christy's engagement party, if Lambert and I could find an amazing little cottage with a fenced in yard when we got to Asheville, etc.. Nothing earth shattering or even really remarkable for that matter. I wanted to take it easy with my "worries" on the first go-round. 

After parking my car we hopped out (some of us more excited than others about the task at hand) and walked through the gate to the trailhead sign. I looked quickly at the map to determine our route and then my eyes wandered all around the other postings. "Bears and Mountain Lions are Active!" and ways to try to not die. "You are in Rattlesnake Territory!"Again, followed by suggestions on staying alive. "Keep Your Dogs Away from Prairie Dogs!" They carry plague. Sure, you may not die but it's certainly not ideal. 

With my new information Lambert and I set off merrily down the trail to see what we may see. As I started my run, I began plucking gingerly through the issues I'd selected for the evening (I mean, she's registered at Bed, Bath, and Beyond...) but instead found myself glancing all around and not giving my "worries" the attention they demanded. Unfortunately, it was not  the picturesque view of the sun setting behind the mountains or the horses grazing pleasantly in the pasture while nonchalantly swatting flies with their tails that was stealing my thoughts. I was fearing for my safety and for the safety of my mutt. Lions and rattlers and bears. Oh my.

I've come to the conclusion that the Boulder Park Service likely runs with the same mindset as my uncle. They too, are imparting this bit of running wisdom and thoughtfully started with the most dangerous and worked their way down to the lamest way to die for easy prioritizing as you sweat. Now even the most calm, sane, happy person has several things to worry about while running after reading the helpful, posted signs. Suddenly, exercising is not for the faint of heart. No friends, it is the most terrifying thing you're going to do today. Good looking out Boulder Park Service. Good looking out indeed.

❤