on being a big fat baby.

Yesterday I got on a bicycle for the first time in a decade. Ten years ago, I thought bike-riding was fun. Then as a teenager, my busy schedule gave way to disinterest, and then to inexperience, and finally after so many years, to fear. Of course, you can hardly blame me for being slightly petrified of vehicles that are supposed to balance on two wheels. After coming inches from careening off a cliff three years ago on a motor scooter in Australia, I was in no hurry to test fate again. But this was a free bike, and this is Boulder. So after weeks of putting it off, I finally went ahead and set out to face my fear. I wheeled my bike down the stairs and out into the yard. I took a deep breath and looked around. And let me tell you, I could swear that every passing car contained a driver gaping in his rear-view mirror at the scared-looking grown woman who clearly had never gotten past training wheels. Whole families were crowded around their apartment windows, pointing and laughing at my ineptitude. Even the dog in my parking lot was tossing me knowing glances. Then I threw my leg over the seat, sat down... and started to pedal. Even after all that time, the old axiom rang true - it is, truly, just like riding a bike. I managed to stay upright surprisingly well despite my vivid premonitions of slamming into trees and parked cars. It was exhilarating. After riding in circles for a little while, I led my bike back into the apartment, gave myself a pat on the back... and ate milk and cookies while watching cartoons and coloring in my coloring book. Just kidding. It was soy milk.

Life hasn't been too exciting as of late. Work is going very well, though. I got assigned to work the bar last Monday night, which was encouraging because bar shifts are generally the most coveted and only the most seasoned staff tend to get them. I'm feeling more comfortable around everyone and I'm doing very well in tips. And aside from my ever-present personal obsession with planning, I feel no pressure whatsoever to have any idea what I'm doing with my life. It's funny, every now and again I'll hear a siren and think to myself, "I'm so glad I'm a waitress." I've also been toying with some new career options lately, which isn't something I've done in a long time. I feel far more free and far more young than I have anytime in recent memory. That is a very positive thing.

Just for kicks, I'll be starting a science blog sometime soon. I'll keep you updated.

and the world spins madly on.

The last couple of days have been... eventful, I suppose. I've been feeling a little "off" for a while now, so I decided that I would take some time to myself this weekend. On Friday night, I asked Liz to suggest a trail or two that I had never hiked before. She mentioned Bear Peak and said it was comparable to Chautauqua, which is where Meg and I hiked back in September. Not too long, not terribly strenuous - it sounded like a lovely way to spend a sunny Saturday by myself. So the next morning, I headed out toward Eldorado Springs, ready for a nice little jaunt and some pretty scenery. Next thing I know, it's four hours later, I'm clambering up an all but vertical slew of rocks with an empty water bottle and approximately 1,000 new fly friends all clearly in love with and plastered all over my dirty, sticky body, and the summit is nowhere in sight. Don't get me wrong, the view from the top was more than worth the blood, sweat and tears (pretty much literally). I'm just glad I had no clue what I was getting myself into. Fast forward a few more hours and I'm sitting on my couch, refusing to move for fear of what my legs might do to me, stuffing my face with Indian food and watching the Netflix that had been sitting on my kitchen counter since before I moved in. Now, it was a bit unfortunate to spend my Saturday night in that fashion. I had run into one of my coworkers on the trail (which was just about the most random encounter I could have possibly had) and we had planned to go up to the mine where one of my managers lives that night, but I simply wasn't moving. And besides, me-time.

Today I had planned to spend some time out by the pool, but it was just too damn hot. Instead, I wrote a few letters to people, skyped with my mom, and got a massage. I can't say the hot stones felt terrific on my sunburned back, but it was mostly wonderful. After making myself a nice dinner, I dropped in on the Kirtan that was going on down the road. Kirtan is something I experienced on a retreat I went on back in January, and I loved it. To me, it's what church should have felt like but never did. Maybe its the 5000-year old Sanskrit, or the collective awareness of everyone in the room, or maybe some combination of the two, but the energy is seriously palpable. It's the tingly, swarming kind of feeling I get from the best of meditations. It's lovely. Two and a half hours passed in a flash, and here I am.

So about that me-time, do I feel any different? Not really. What I'm feeling here is terribly familiar. I've felt it before, and quite frankly that turned out miserably. I have no intention of letting this experience go the same way, but to be honest, it's scaring me a little bit. People keep asking me why I moved here, and my answer is usually something along the lines of "just because" or "why the hell not?". Not that there's anything wrong with either of those reasons. In fact, a lot fellow transplants I've talked to had the same rationale. But I think what I'm up against here is that I changed. I was of one mind when I decided to move, and I was of a different mind when I actually got up the balls to do it. I kept trying to deny it to myself, but the year I spent back in Rhode Island changed me. And now I'm here, expecting to be one person but instead being someone completely different. It isn't about regret; for one reason or another, I'm supposed to be here. I just have to figure out who I want to be.

The Beginning, Part II

So here I am in Colorado. I arrived 12 days ago, and it has been a bit of a whirlwind. The trip out here was a lot of fun. My friend Chelsea came out with me and we made just enough stops to make the long days of driving bearable. Roanoke, Nashville, Memphis, Kansas City, and finally Boulder on day 5. I spent most of my first week here getting organized: moving all my stuff in and figuring out where to put it all, buying furniture and house supplies, registering my car, getting to know the area, etc etc. I started looking for a job last Tuesday, and by Wednesday I had been hired full-time at one of my favorite pubs in Boulder. I just happened to stumble in the day before a big group interview, and the managers I interviewed with the next morning liked me enough to hire me on the spot. Since then, work has pretty much been my life. Tonight was day 5 of training. I have two more training shifts and then I'm on my own. It's all a bit overwhelming, but I think I'm handling it well. Everyone has been telling me what a great job I'm doing and how I'm one of the best trainees anyone has ever worked with. I'm not sure I have as much confidence in myself as everyone else seems to, but I'm certainly feeling worlds better about my performance than I was on day 1. I guess that's all I can really ask for. That and free beer, which I'm getting. Ah, the perks of working for a brewery.

I guess I'll talk a bit about the restaurant itself since that has been my world for the last few days. There are three pubs all operated by the same brewery: Southern Sun in South Boulder (which is where I work), Mountain Sun in downtown Boulder, and the Vine Street pub in downtown Denver. At any given time, we have about 16-18 of our own beers on tap and 2 or 3 visiting brews from elsewhere in Colorado. Basically, we serve burgers and beer, but people will come in on the weekends and wait an hour and a half for a table just for the atmosphere. We all work as a team, so even though we all have our own "sections" of the pub to serve, we pretty much take care of everyone. What that means is that everyone is in on the tip jar. Servers, kitchen staff, everyone. That might sound like a crappy deal, but it really isn't. For instance, last night the closers each made $135 in tips. You work damn long hours (I'm already nearing 35 this week and I still have two nights to go) and you work your ass off in manual labor opening and closing the restaurant, but I love it. The energy is infectious. We all dance around to blaring music and scream and yell for peoples' birthdays and down beers in front of customers at the end of our shifts and generally roughhouse with each other and our patrons, and get paid for it.

It's a ton of fun. I'm just hoping I'll be part of the furniture within a few months' time. You'd probably never know it, but breaking into a new group of people has always been one of the hardest things for me. Externally, I'm doing a great job of being outgoing and sociable, but I'm always fighting the urge to hole up and shut out the world. I gave into that feeling in Australia, and to a certain extent when I moved back to Rhode Island after college, but I'm fighting it pretty hard this time. I know this move was the right thing to do, and now it's just a matter of getting past myself and learning to sink my teeth in.

I think I just need some time. Hell, I haven't even been here for two weeks yet. Driving home from work tonight, it struck me as odd that I actually live here now. Heading north, seeing the streets pass by: Arapahoe, Canyon, Walnut, Pearl. Streets that I've traveled often enough in my past visits that are now, in a sense, my own. I still feel like I'm living in someone else's house. Or in someone else's life. This is totally a cliche, but I literally looked in the mirror while I was on my break at work today and didn't recognize myself. It wasn't so much that I looked different. It was more like I was meeting myself for the first time. And of course all these feelings are normal, but this is a whole lot of change all at once. Luckily I have friends at home who are making the transition a bit easier. I'm also fortunate enough to be living with one of my best friends. I'm having a great time here and everything is going right. I feel more free than I ever have before. I'm just waiting to feel like all of this is mine.