A Christmas miracle.

One of my girls at work asked me to teach her how to twerk yesterday. And all at once, I was horrified and flattered. Me! Knowing how to twerk well enough to teach others? I must admit, it was a refreshing change from the disgusted glares and usual squeals to "please stop!" when I dance at work. Teenagers are so kind. 

mountain 'splorin.

Okay, maybe I don't hate winter that much. At least not when you can run through the freshly fallen snow and feel like you're Balto. 

I sleep in my bed with my sleeping bag and wool socks.

Don't believe the dramatics. It was 65 degrees again today in Aztec. I am a drahmuh queen. But I can pretend I like the winter when looking at these photos. I am obsessed with the southeast corner of Colorado. 

Lucky duck.

It's not too often that a girl has friends that will drive hours to is visit and them humor her endlessly by posing for cheeseball/titanic/hilarious photos. Or friends that pretend to be triplets with you, or cook you delicious meals, or laugh at your pathetic jokes, or help you collect firewood hillbilly style. It also doesn't hurt when they can pull off cowboy hats and have beards with magic powers. (note: that stinkin toothpick!)

Bahston baby.

 cheesball bff photo seshs. subway trips. JFK fancy pants tours. glorious people watching. twin bed sleeping. ice cream eating. green apple licorice inhaling. ship yard walks. sassy senior photoshoots. leaf peeping. THE CANNOLIS. oh, the cannolis. whatta weekend.

Don't mind me.

I'm a sucker for photo series. Below is one of my own and I don't even care if it's something as cliche as a footstagram. I went to St. Louis a couple of weeks ago and couldn't pass up on an opportunity to visit City Museum. (even if it meant ditching out on a conference session.) It's heaven on earth for a lover of details, craftiness, mosaics, creativity, imagination, slides, and fun. If I had to write a list of my favorite places in the US, this place would be in my top ten. It is thaaaaaat cool. :)

Dumb. Stupid. Crazy.

 My Grandpa and Pops came to visit me in the glorious desert oasis of Aztec, New Mexico. We ate at every restaurant within a 20 mile radius. Bill tried Thai food for the first time. I tried to get him to try my tofu and he promptly responded that he'd rather go to Subway. We bought 20 dollars worth of cookies at my favorite bakery.  My grandpa made me laugh so hard and so often that I started writing the hilarious things he said down. My favorite one perfectly describes him and my dad perfectly. After days of spending 24/7 together, he made this observation about my dad. "Dumb. Stupid. Crazy. He can't say those words without adding ass at the end." Soooooooooooo ridiculously true. We saw mountains and deserts and couldn't decide which was more beautiful. We hit casinos at least twice a day and at every opportunity. I won $14 on my grandpa's favorite "Sex and The City" penny machine. I caught up with my dad and we discussed life. They humored me and my self-timered-family-photos. It was glorious.

Craz

typical.

My weekend: Driving three hours, camping in the middle of nowhere in a thunderstorm, and then making it all better by some spicy and authentic new mexican food and some phototaking for dessert. 

The Wild.

My favorite thing about living in the west happens when you're driving deep in the thick of things, out in the desert, up in the mountains, mostly miles away from places where things are thought to be "happening." You're enjoying the solitude and fresh air and you see a car leaving the direction you're going and it happens. They lift a finger or hand off the steering wheel, or sometimes nod, a quick acknowledgment in passing of being in the same place at the same time, enjoying the same thing, recognizing a true lover of the wild. My heart swells every time it happens and I can't help but feel connected. to everything important.

On a quick side note, my grandpa does this quite regularly when he's driving in town and other drivers upset him, or cut him off, ride a motorcycle, or just catch his eye. It's hilariously endearing, and I love it.

I also really like the mountains, green chili, trees, cowboys, turquoise, cactus, lizards, and natural arches. But hey, I'd be a weirdo if I insisted on a nine-way tie.

Second home.

"The clearest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness." John Muir.

Ruby Lovin.

Miles and miles in the deserts and mountains in New Mexico, miles and miles north through canyons and deserts to see family, miles and miles to new cities just to buy sourdough bread, miles and miles with cassette tapes blasting, miles and miles on drives chasing sunsets and tracing oil truck roads. 50,000 miles in three and a half years is enough bonding time to pull at my heart strings. I can't even count how many times I felt like I was driving in a clown car, stuffed full to the brim with friends and family (the record is four people). Or how many times I just had to laugh because driving her was often ridiculous. No power steering? NBD. It built muscle! It's definitely bittersweet giving her up, but at least she's staying in the family. aka: Chandler, don't rip up the streets of Logan. At least not every night.