Denver

To the ones I love:

Another plane ride means another post. Probably overly emotional, reflective and fragmented like the last one. But, let’s be honest, that’s pretty much my mode of operation right now.

I have a great family.
And, not to sound redundant, I’m so tired.
It’s because I have a great family.

Some trip highlights:

1. Dinner on Tuesday night on the patio. Off all the places I’ve been, that patio is one of my three favorite places on earth. It is there that I feel the veil to heaven is the thinnest it gets for me. However, we may have moved a bit closer to hell this time around when the China Babe dropped some ketchup and followed it up with a subtle but well-placed “damn it.” Classic. It took about 10 seconds for all of us to go through the wait, did she really just say that? thought process.
Dad: “Anna, what did you just say?”
Chad and I: (muffled laughter)
Anna: “Oh, just, yam it.” (shrugs)
Chad and I: (unmuffled laughter)
Dad: “No, that’s not what you said is it?”
Anna: “Well...I…(laughs)…no…I was just saying…no…yea, I said damn it.”
Mom: “Where did you learn that?”
Anna: “I didn’t learn it. I just know it.”
Good girl, I would have sold Daddy out.

2. Anna’s field day. For all of you who don’t know, we Colby’s pride ourselves in our long and successful athletic careers. I mean, each of us has dominated various field day events and recess pick-up games on through state championship games and school records. I am happy to report that my little sister upheld the legacy. I mean, she may not have won the 50 yard dash or “jump the brook.” She may have cried after a tug-o-war loss. She may have gone down over a couple of hurdles. But, by God, if anyone has ever dominated the shoe flick, it’s my China Baby. That’s right. After a first disappointing flick of about 2 feet, Anna rebounded to go undefeated in the flicks that followed. She even hit her teacher with her pink and grey Merrell. Obviously, the name lives on, the Colby name still reigns, for now at least.

3. We went to the Rockies game on Wednesday. My Dad’s lawyers gave us some great seats, four rows behind home plate. Something about the ballgame is just so true. I love Coors field. Granted, it doesn’t have the Dingleberries and Sushi and trans fat free goodness Safeco boasts but that’s okay. I managed to find a fantastic Gardenburger and watered down beer. The sun beat down on our backs, we danced between innings, cheered for the Jumbotron racecars and felt as American as they come. If that’s not the good life, I don’t know what is.

4. My parents spent the weekend trying to bribe me into moving home. It’s a good thing we’ve put down our first months rent in DC, otherwise, I may have given into the temptation. Seriously. They offered me a DOG. I think I’ve narrowed it down to a Chesapeake Retriever or a Rhodesian Ridgeback (they make black ones!). After seeing Moby Colby’s sterling character, I’m pretty sold on the Ridgebacks. They were bred to kill lions in Africa, which is pretty friggin' sweet. Unlike Pitbulls, which are also friggin' tough dogs, they don’t kill people. Just lions. All I have to do is get off this plane, load up my car and drive home. I could be a happy puppy owner in less than two weeks. The dream is within my reach. Oh the inner turmoil.

5. David Cook won American Idol. He and I are going to be great friends someday. I just have a feeling.

There’s more but I fear only my Mom has made it to this point in this lengthy post (thanks, Mom). If you will, allow me just a few more thoughts.

Just as I flew away from Seattle overflowing with gratitude and glowing with pride for my friends, I fly away from Denver with the same sense of deep, deep love for my family. While you pick your friends, you don’t pick your family. I don’t think I could have picked better friends than those I have in my family.

I have cousins going all different places. Cousins who are best friends, confidants, my forever partners in crime. I am so proud of each and every one of them. We have grown into such good friends, people who are very different but can deeply respect the others. Linds and I won’t stop dreaming together, Em and Hil won’t stop amazing me with their strength, Ky and Cayles won’t stop impressing me with their deep desire to do what is right.

I have brothers who are, hands down, the best men I know. They make me happy. They make me smarter. They make me better. They teach me to laugh at myself and at the world. I wish you could know them too.

Finally, I have parents who have loved me fiercely, believed in me at every turn, and given me every resource both physically and emotionally to follow my dreams. This is the problem with great parents. They make you believe that you can be great too, somehow. Sometimes I think life would be a lot simpler if they hadn’t loved me so well. Maybe I wouldn’t be living out of boxes, fighting myself and the unknown, chasing a dream. But they have given me wings, allowed me to chase after the life that is truly life. Leaving this time was so hard. So hard. I don’t know that I can pinpoint exactly what’s different but something is. I don’t know how I will ever make up to them all they’ve given, all they’ve sacrificed. I can’t. They’ve sacrificed me. To me, they are Trinity personified. They are my best friends.

I have a great family.
Yours-
LC.

Seattle

I have great friends.

I’m sitting in 27F somewhere between Seattle and Denver, trying to process the weekend- the events, the conversations, the emotions. But I can’t. I am SO tired. And it’s because I have great friends. The last days were quite possibly four of my happiest days in Seattle. Ever. I have never been so happy to see the tattoos and body piercings, Utilikilts and man capris, real dogs and real coffee shops, artists, athletes, vegans, rollerskate dancers, work hard, live hard kind of performance outdoor gear wearing people that make up my favorite place on earth. And that isn’t even counting my time with my favorite people on earth.

Here’s the abbreviated weekend recap. (If you want further details, you’re either going to have to call me or look at the Facebook album that will inevitably be posted soon.) Ready? Go.

Landed at Seatac I got the news that we have a house in DC. Thank the Lord. Cait made $80 at a garage sale and got a sunburn. I met Miyoung for the first time but it didn’t really feel like the first time at all. Bryan’s birthday warranted drinks at Cactus, homemade carrot cake, a dark and stormy that made my stomach hurt, a trampoline and s’mores. Not bad for day #1.

Friday started at 7:30 by choice. We were that excited to see each other. My old bakery for coffee and breakfast. I love those guys there. Threw on the swimming suits and headed out on Ben’s boat for an afternoon on the water soundtracked by Moby and laughter. Walked the lake with Trav, which turned out to be sweet calm before the bachlorette storm. Danced the night away at Tia Lou’s, thwarted for only a short time when I was escorted out. (It was cause my heels were really tall, I promise.) Katie argued me back in in time to enjoy Cait on a table. Thank goodness for Carly’s hand. Blurry, half-memories from there on out.

Long, slow, late breakfast with good friends and even better stories. Packing and breakdown #1. Lake walk with Elise and all the pasty-skinned Seattle crazies (two separate men in their underwear). BBQ at our house during which I sat back, soaked it all in and sold my bed. Swam and hottubbed. The Hillards made me feel so safe: just yell Oklahoma if you find yourself in distress. The beginning of goodbyes. Esh.

Early morning packing. Bakery. Lake house wedding shower with toilet paper lingerie and naked nachos. Killed Luke in Horse. Another spin on the boat, this time around Lake Union where I’ve taken so many spins before. Breakdown #2. Sweet, sweet Katie time. Another hard goodbye.

More packing. Kitchen floor conversation with Cait. Breakdown #3. Shipping store. 5 Spot, my spot, with my girls. Airport. Breakdown #4.

Why am I moving again? I love Seattle.

The thing is, the Seattle we all love so much has changed, a lot. And while I absolutely loved every second of the time I had with my amazing friends, the absence of those scattered across the world was almost tangible. It’s so bittersweet. It’s bittersweet because I know that everyone is doing exactly what they need to do. It wouldn’t work if we were all still there, if it were “just like it was.” This is the problem with being friends with great people. They do great things which takes them to the ends of the earth.

I don’t know if what I’m doing in DC can be considered great, by any means. It’s just that, even in my continued grief of losing all the things that were, I know I have to do what I’m going to do. In the loss, there is the peace that only comes with obedience. Otherwise I just couldn’t do it. Plus, I know to the core of me that just because we’ve scattered and will continue to do so, we won’t stop doing life together. There is something so sacred about being known and loved anyway. Distance is simply irrelevant.

This weekend has left me really confused. So much happy mixed with so much sad. Writing this post was really hard and my creativity is feeling a little stunted, so sorry if I jump around. The one thing I do know for sure is this:

I have great friends.
Love,
LC

With love, from Franklin

Franklin nailed it for the day:

"He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it."
-Edgar A. Guest

Sing today. Life's a lot more fun that way.
(If you don't know who Franklin is, well, just wait because you will and he will change your life. Quadrant 2...holla!)

P.S. Seattle in 2 days!

Mother's Day

On this day, Sunday, Mother’s Day, it only seems appropriate that this post be dedicated solely to my Mom and most loyal reader. I promise not to talk about running, make a pathetic effort to weave an outdated song through my post, or give a shout out to HS. (Well, we’ll shoot for 2 of 3.) I want to talk about her because a) unemployment doesn’t pay well and this is about all I have to offer as a gift b) I can’t be there, though I desperately wish I was and c) I’ve gotten to know my mom everyday of my life and I think it’s about time I share. You want me to share, trust me. Let’s start with some stories.

My problem set as a kid looked a lot different than it does now, naturally. Now, I’m worry for my basic survival: food, shelter, a job to pay for said food and shelter. Then, I remember the things that kept me up at night back then: the fear of splinters (my mom once removed one from my butt), swimming lessons (I never could backfloat), and the chance that Eric might wise up and realize that he didn’t actually have to do what I said. Another of our constant dilemmas was the fact that the fries at McDonald’s were way better than Burger King’s while BK had the corner on the chicken nugget market. You just couldn’t win. But then, WE DID. My brilliant mudder figured out the key to unlocking the perfect meal: we went to both. I will never forget sitting at the counter in our house on Nichols Dr. eating what is still the best meal of my life, with the sudden realization that my mom just might be my hero.

Fast forward a few years. A lot actually (unfortunately). I peed my mom. It’s true, I did. I had to have been 13 or 14. In my defense, I gave a fair warning. I was being tickled without mercy and well, a girl can only hold it so long. My mom was the first one to realize what was happening and screamed. The room cleared and I was left to figure it out. But she came back. I knew she would. She didn’t even change her shirt with the wet spot first. When I think about having kids of my own, I wonder if I’ll be able to stomach them. Kids are gross, even at 13. Somehow though, she’s managed to be there for every foul kid-nastiness we’ve managed to produce.

I’ll also never forget the time we went school shopping mid-7th grade. It might be safe to say that I was trouble, a snot maybe. Why do kids start making their parents’ lives miserable in middle school? Maybe it was just me. I don’t know. Anyway, we were shopping and of course disagreed on everything. I’m sure she was right, she usually is. We were driving home and suddenly she was crying. There’s nothing like making your mom cry to make you feel like the world’s biggest ball of scum. Timidly, I asked her what’s wrong and I’ll never forget her answer: “I makes me so sad that you don’t let me buy you the best things. If it were up to me I would dress you in gold and silver. But you’re choosing to look cheap and it just makes me sad.” It felt like I got punched. She cut right to the heart of it. She wasn’t trying to dress me in clothes to ensure that I’d never climb the social ladder, she knew me, my heart on my best days, and wanted the world to see nothing less when they looked at me. And, I didn’t realize it at the time, but isn’t this exactly the reason One who wants to dress us in kingdomly-splendor weeps?

I could go on. The stories are endless, as I’m sure yours are too. Somewhere in that long string of stories, at least in mine, there is this gradual, beautiful shift that takes place. At some point you learn that your mom is so much more than just your mom. She is a woman, a person with a past and present and a future in the same way that I have a past, a present and a future. And at some point during this shift, she becomes your friend, your best friend. At least, that’s what happened for us. No one on this planet knows me better, and amazingly, no one on this planet loves me more. It’s truly a mystery to me. We’ve both seen each other at our worst- my crying fits, her cold silence. We’ve fought. We’ve misunderstood each other. But that’s what friendship is, fighting through the fights to come out better than you were before.

I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I would not be who I am. I would not know who I want to be. I want to be strong and authentic and endlessly hospitable like she is. I want to always keep searching, keep trying to be better, to know more just like she does. I want to be her. I realize that in a world of broken families, this might put me in the minority but it’s absolutely true: I want to be her. If you can say the same, make sure to tell her today.

Other great things about my Mudder…
1. She used to call us in sick from school to take us snowboarding. The best part is that she rode with us. That’s right, my mom shreds.

2. She is absolutely the best cook I know. If you see her, ask her what she used to do for our proms.

3. All my quirky comes from my mom. All of it. As does my rescue complex. Currently, we have three rescued dogs (two of which are Great Danes) and one 8-year-old China baby wreaking havoc on our house. It’s awesome.

4. She let me be the first one in the 5th grade to shave my legs. Also awesome.

5. When I surprise attack her with a sobbing phone call she never fails. She brings her A-game every time. Which, thankfully, has been particularly outstanding over these past months in DC.

Happy Mother’s Day.
All love.
LC

Carolina On My Mind, Along With A Lot of Other Stuff

I need to do this one in list form to start.
Sorry to both of you who read this.

Top six things about the rest of our Carolina trip:

#6) The sunburn faded to tan quickly. So much so that the swimming suit stays on even when you take it off. Glorious.

#5) I had an animated political discussion with my fantastic Vietnamese pedicurist. Our McCain feelings were mutual. I like Obama. He likes Hilary. Why? Because she’s seen it all before, having been the First Lady. Obviously, she already knows how to be el presidente (la presidenta?). Point taken. I’m still getting used to the fact that when you tell someone you live in DC, you are also obligated to tell them your political views.

#4) Trigger fish: Anne made it for dinner on Thursday night. It will go down as one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. I don’t know what Trigger fish is. Apparently it’s a North Carolina thing. If anyone has any information about where to buy it or what restaurants serve it, please let me know.

#3) Gary. Gary saved us. We were driving back in the middle of nowhere (thank you, Googlemaps) singing happily to our new favorite man-hating Celine ballad when our tire suddenly exploded. Not went flat, exploded. We were in big trouble. Gary must have sensed that when he drove by and saw two girls in sundresses and flip flops, cell phones out, staring at the side of the car. The long and the short of it is that Gary saved us. “Good thing I’m already dirty,” he said. Thank you, Gary. Thank you, God. (I would like to say, for the record, that I could have changed it. It just would have taken significantly longer.)

#2) We got in the car to drive back on Friday at about 1 and I realized that I was ready to cruise. On our way down, we REALLY needed a Starbucks stop. You know you’ve been well cared for when caffeine at the beginning of a 6 hour road trip just isn’t necessary.

#1) On Thursday night while Anne cooked the Trigger fish she kicked us out of the kitchen with a glass of Pinot Noir and a stern warning to not come back until we had thoroughly enjoyed the best part of the day on the beach. Fine. HS and I went out, cameras, and journals in tow and enjoyed the sunset over the Atlantic. Utter and undeserved kindness. Again. Another “how in the world did I get here” moment. Another parting moment of peace and happiness in the face of the swirling unknown that is my life right now. Another good day. “Here’s to grace,” we said.

Right now, life teeters in this weird place between the already and the almost. Sometimes its great. The hope, the possibility, the adrenaline of it all. Sometimes, I plain hate it. This weekend I hate it. I want to know what my life is going to look like for the next year. I want something sure. We may have found a house, which is excellent news. Cross your fingers and shoot up a prayer. Pray for things on the job front too. Representing the best of yourself on an 8½ x 11 sheet of paper is really unfair and really scary. I’ll have updates there soon.

So that’s it. Back to my bitter indie music in my trendy coffee shop to keep working on cover letters. Endless cover letters. Gotta love the post-college roller coaster. Ugh.

Love you guys.