Thursday, June 20, 2013

june twentieth.

I've always been a wanderer. Spontaneous. I'm told that as a child I would get bored with a restaurant or a show and decide I needed to explore the bathroom or whatever I could find as a change of scenery.

Once, while visiting family in Dallas, I asked my parents if I could stay longer and took my first solo plane trip back to Austin a few days later.

In high school, on a whim, I joined my best friend Amanda for these silly dance auditions at 7am and for the next four years, drill team was my life. 

After several hollow dreams of the west coast and Ivy League schools passed, I followed my young, naive heart to Lubbock, Texas, a city I had never been to, a University of which I did not know the mascot.

My grandma is reading this or else I would even tell you how many tattoos I have!!!

I don't think any of these circumstances could have prepared my parents for what I did on June 20, 2011. 

...

About two months prior, I laid in my bed with strep throat and applied to 44 jobs in Denver, Colorado. I didn't tell too many people, as my plan had been to return to Austin and look for jobs there. But a couple weeks later, my now friend Michelle called me to offer me an interview as a Mental Health Case Manager in Denver! I flew out, and y'all, no one thought that plane ticket would pay itself off. (Side note: they were right, you don't make any money in social work, badumm chhhhh) Fast foward, two weeks later I got a call back offering me a temporary position for another employee's maternity leave.

My family is a helluva lot more reasonable than I, so they all told me to wait for a permanent position, but my I accidentally left my heart in Denver during the interview so I had to go back and get it. 

...

Today, exactly two years after I drove away from my hometown with my car loaded down, my heart is heavy (as are my tear ducts). But not heavy in a bad way. Heavy with love, wonder, homesickness, new memories, old memories, friendships, more memories than I thought were possible, confusion, anxiety, peace, more love.

I love my family, I love my friends, but y'all...I'm so happy I didn't listen to you and your reason. I'm so happy I've never listened. I've made so many mistakes, I've been so irresponsible. But I've just been following my wandering, attention-deficit, bleeding heart.

And now as my little brothers have both taken that drive over the Texas border, my parents sit at home and watch "Sheldon" (Big Bang Theory), and share stories of our dogs like they are another generation of children, I hope they are proud. And I hope their hearts are as heavy as mine with pride and enough worry and wonder to occasionally come visit us or buy us plane tickets back home. Because they gave us this gift, a sense of adventure bigger than a sense of fear, and let us fly, but not too far.
Vienna - Billy Joel

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

a strangely wrapped gift.

I've never been known for having outstanding luck. As my grandma always says, "That wouldn't happen to anyone but you." Always. She always has the opportunity to say it!

I thought that removing myself from the field of social work would help bring some order and normalcy to my life, but on this, my first day in human resources, life was anything but orderly.

Last night, I was flying back from Omaha, NE so obviously that would be the evening some hooligan decided to pull a telephonic bomb threat. While my tensions rose about the time I would have to prepare for my first day of work, I managed to keep calm and be thankful for the safety of travelers and for a couple extra hours of bliss and red wine with the love of my life. [Side note: there has never been a moment that I wasn't thankful for red wine.] [Wait, maybe that one time I drank too much Barefoot wine, but we don't have to revisit that memory.]

My flight wasn't full, but it was bumpy so I managed to get about 14 minutes of nap and 62 minutes of staring at the tiny white bag in the seat back pouch in front of me, strategically planning its impending removal and use.

Once I had my feet on the ground I was looking for[ward to] the RTD bus that would take me back to the shady, dark parking lot in which my car was parked. Fast forward to the next hour of my life, there was no bus. I decided that 7.5 miles in a taxi was an affordable alternative and ventured to the Ground Transportation level of the airport.

You would think for $45, the driver would assist me with my luggage, but noooo. I barreled my way into the taxi van, dropping my phone and not realizing my wallet as well.

I'm just going to give up on the rest of last night because it just gets worse and worse. [See: Gas light flashing, then google how many gas stations are open after midnight in Denver.]

So, if you're still with me, here's the golden moment:

I put literally everything except tooth-brushing off until this morning, based on my zombie-state. So I woke up around 5:45am, showered, breakfasted, took a 15 minute nap, made coffee, stared at my closet rack, changed clothes 4.5 times, spent 35 minutes on my hair for my new badge picture and walked right out the door at 7am without said coffee. 

I stopped at the gas station, started the pump and took a relaxing seat back in my car and RIPPED MY ANN TAYLOR BLACK SUMMER SLACKS FROM LOWER BACK TO NETHER REGION STRAIGHT DOWN THE MIDDLE OF MY BUTT.

The end.

Moral of the story: Everything happens for a blessed reason, my friends. Whether it's for a few more precious memories with a loved one, to give you perspective that you are fortunate enough to take a cab alternatively to public transportation, or so that you stop for gas and rip your pants BEFORE getting to your brand new job. Life is a gift, even when it seems like it isn't.