Why I'm Happy

One day I woke up and life in Colorado was suddenly abundantly happy. I don’t think I realized it immediately. It took a couple days for me to actually notice my lurking happiness. But, I noticed and here it is, still.

I love being with my family. Although the patio at my parents’ new house doesn’t compare to the patio at our old house, which was my most favorite place in the world, we’ve really enjoyed some beautiful Colorado summer nights on this one. Imagine…a fantastic Wine Woot wine, tofu stir fry, and two huge dogs eating each other’s poop, all while watching the sunset. Wish you were here, don’t cha? Seriously, though. I love it.

I love my siblings. Last night I let Anna, aka the China Babe, dye my hair. She totally got into it. My underage stylist made sure every root of every strand had been touched. Twice. What happens when you leave hair dye in for a really long time? It turns dark, really dark. Some might call it emo, I call it mysterious, dark and mysterious. This morning Chad let me cut his hair. He probably should have let Anna do it.

Time with the brothers has been great, too. We’ve been down to Eric and Amy’s a few times. You should see Denver right now. The DNC is totally nuts. We walked around and looked for famous people Sunday night. All we found was the entire SWAT team, including their moms, a guy selling “Ooooooooobama buttons” and MSNBC. Sorta anti-climactic. You know those protesters that hold up the signs that say, “This is what a police state looks like?” It’s true. Only, I don’t understand why they’re protest signs. I mean, it’s true, this is really probably what a police state looks like. Okay. I’m fine with that. If it brings Oprah, Kanye and Bradjalina to town, then sure, why not?

I love time with my cousins. I’ve gotten up to the mountains a couple times to stay at the Winters’ new house. I say it every time but I’m pretty convinced that just breathing mountain air has soul-healing properties. I still laugh when we walk around Keystone among the summer bikers, hippies and people with absolutely nothing to do. It’s about as far from DC as you can get. Sometimes I can’t believe I lived there. (Still love ya, DC.)

It was walking through Keystone about 5 weeks ago that our (me, brother and cousin) tattoo idea was officially born. And it was last Friday that we finally went under the needle. It was terrible. I had the shakes, the cold sweats, the jimmy legs. Remember that Offspring song with the lyrics that went “now he’s getting a tattoo, yeah, he’s getting ink done/he asked for a 13 but they drew a 31…” That was stuck in my head for an entire week before. It took all my willpower not to sing it in front of Fritz, our surprisingly nurturing artist. It actually took all my willpower not to sprint out the back door. Somehow I didn’t and found myself on the table with the sweet sounds of James Taylor in the background (what?), listening to Fritz talk about slasher films and Mexican food while suppressing the screams and squeals that needed so desperately to come out. “It’ll get easier,” Fritz said when he started, the others nodding in agreement. Bull. If anyone tells you “it just feels like a cat scratch,” hit them, they’ve just lied to your face. I might post a picture later, when I don’t have to put that goo on it that makes it all shiny and gross looking. For now, let this suffice:



Finally, I love my friends. It’s been so great to get to spend time with people who had so much to do with who I am. Margot remains one of my best friends, across the time and distance. Friends like that are such a gift.

So that’s about it. As always there’s more I can say but don’t want to bore you guys. Minnesota tomorrow. The party hat and little black bachlorette dress are packed and ready. I can’t wait to be in a room full of 80% of my favorite people on the planet (holla attcha New Zealand).

Yours-
LC

Hi.

I’m back. My apologies to the Internet for our long separation. I can assure you, it hasn’t been for lack of substance. Oh no. Life in Colorado has been so full of the raw content- joy and sorrow, depth and foolishness, comedy and tragedy- that make up these empty offerings to the Internet that no one really reads (thank you Google analytics). Where to start? Hmmm…

Today, while we were driving to kickboxing and the China Babe informed that she knows what she’s going to do for the talent show next year. That’s right, next year. Why? She needs practice. Because she’s going to jump rope. With her eyes closed. You read that right, I have an eyes-closed jump roping sister. Well, next year anyway. If she practices. She’s also Rihanna’s newest #1 fan, thank you very much.

I got to spend a couple days in the mountains with my cousins and aunt and uncle at their condo. That’s what the pictures are from. It was fantastic. There’s nothing like sitting around a table full of people who’ve know and loved you from the moment you took your first breath and will continue to do so no matter how weird you get. I realized how much I’d missed that elusive safe feeling that sort of lingers heavily and silently as evening turns to dusk turns to night unnoticed in the rhythm of conversation.

The conversation actually lasted almost all night. My Linds and I laid in bed talking like we did when we were little girls, rebelling against bedtime. The conversation has changed a lot except for the part about boys (though even that's a lot different as the running definition of a mean boy has dramatically changed). Through tears and laughter we both recounted the hells of years we’ve both had, sprinkled with pieces of heaven, to be sure. Oh, the sweet, sweet freedom of true and loyal sisterhood.

And then, as if life needed to get any more perfect, we woke up to fresh coffee, Rocky Mountain blue skies, a patio swing, and the Bible my uncle literally dropped in my lap: In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps (Pr. 16:9). Dear God, I hope so because while I have points for trying, I suck.

So, I got a job. Coffee shoppin’ it again. Yep. I’m at least 3 years older than everyone that works there, minus management, which is mildly humiliating. If I let my guard down, I find my thoughts going something like… “Laura Colby this is your life. Another sugar-free vanilla nonfat latte for another lady that thinks her drink is really tricky. Another four hours til I get to go home. Home to my house with a dog in heat and a room with a rainbow. You’re 23 years old, living in your parents’ house, in a room with a rainbow, with no money and only a theology degree to show for yourself. Yes, Laura Colby, this is your life.”

But, can I really complain? No. I mean, sure things haven’t gone how I’d hoped in a lot of ways. There is very real sadness and very real disappointment, very real issues to wade through. But that’s life and no one said it would be easy. I don’t know exactly where I’m going with all of this other than to say that despite, or maybe because of it all, I am happy.

One more story to leave you with. I won’t go into much detail because after much consideration, I have decided that the witty and biting comments are just too easy here, I’ll leave it up to you to draw your own conclusions.

So, like I said, we have a dog in heat. We thought she was spayed but it turns out, well, (disgusting) surprise! We have another dog who is old and we always took for having same-sex tendencies (which I am fine with) given his continued infatuation with Winky, a one-eyed Beagle at the dog park. It’s been a very interesting glimpse into the male psyche, watching this whole boy dog + girl dog in heat thing play out. Let it suffice to say that male dog has been busy and happy, too happy. It pisses me off to watch him go to town whenever and wherever he damn well pleases. Leave her alone for one friggin’ minute, Toby, she just wants to chew her rope for 3 seconds without you doing…that! Well, Toby got his when he overdid himself and cramped up in er…forward position, if you know what I mean. He was completely stuck and crying. I’m not making this up. He waddled outside, still crying, and walked around in er…forward position for a good 10 minutes. Poor dog? No. I think he learned a valuable lesson.