I don't know, what do you think?

a hostile work environment?
I mean I get it, it's Halloween... but really? This is appropriate decor for a probation office... where clients are on probation for crimes that might include violence, assault, attempted homicides, menacing? I'm just saying.

Frick and Frack

On a daily basis, as I see things that seem mysterious or humorous, I often imagine it as a movie or documentary. Saturday night it was an apron on the side walk downtown. Black in color, no logo, just laying there next to a bench. Hmmmm.... the possibilities of stories behind that.

After this morning I have now seen 2 dead mice outside of the Convention Center.

How could it fit into my complex mental plot? Where are they coming from? A kitchen? An underground world? How did they meet their end? What brought them out to the busy sidewalk?

This evening it was Frick and Frack - we've gone to the local auto shop twice now, both times to get batteries for our cars. On both events, the same two guys were working. A young assistant manager with a crazy lisp (that isn't quite a lisp because it's on the sides of his mouth) and his senior assistant. We give the model and make of the car - they both go to their computers and it looks like it's going to be a race but Mr. Senior, older and wiser, stops his search to let his manager be the one to find the answer. Manager goes to get the battery, Mr. Senior offers to help, manager assists he can do it on his own. This has happened twice. Two times. On two different occasions we have watched the same scene play out. What is their story? And if the movie/novel was about Mr. Senior would we see his earlier days of success now followed by a remedial job due to the suffering economy, where he keeps his mouth shut and takes orders from his lispy boss? Or what if it was about the manager? Would we see him stay late at the shop to avoid going home to a lonely studio after a day of feeling knowledgeable and competent after working with an older guy who hasn't yet memorized the codes for all the parts like he has?

The list goes on, it's free entertainment in my head. It's what feeds my desire and urge to eavesdrop in restaurants and on public transportation. Now if only I could get the real stories.

Spice up the hum drum

This month marks #10 of employment at this "new" job. It also marks the 10th month of being married to a wonderful man and 10 months of being so happy he asked me to be his bride and 10 months of enjoying life together. But back to this job - I detest it. In the excitement of getting married and moving to the big city, in the midst of co-workers questioning my decision to transfer to the office with the bad reputation, I dismissed it - how bad can it be? I couldn't justify commuting - that would be crazy. So 10 months now and every Sunday evening comes with a gloom cloud tainting it because Monday is close. Fridays never come soon enough. Coffee runs every morning don't make it taste better. Most days I feel incompetent despite being in the biz plenty long. I regularly wonder if I'll ever make any healthy friends. There is something incredibly unfriendly about the group. I swear I've gotten snarls in the hallway for no reason.

In effort to find enjoyment in the mundane and sometimes painful, I have found some true treasures around the place.

Love Awaits You Here: someone has taken it upon themselves to point out the hidden treasure of this ugly, uninviting business building. I loved it the first time I saw it. When I take the time to notice and appreciate it - it brings a smile to my face and a warmth to my heart. I am continually pleased that no one has removed the paint job or covered it in brown to camouflage the beautiful graffiti.

The Sad Bathroom Boy: There is a set of bathrooms in the hallway. Someone has taken it upon him/herself to give this guy a sad demeanor. I hear you, I feel the same way.

















The Happy Potty Girl: No worries for this little lady. She's turned that frown upside down.

Dancers

A couple weeks ago Matt and I had a picnic date. Well... really the date consisted of Thai take out from our favorite spot and a short car ride to Washington Park. I have to say I love Wash Park. It is shamefully yuppy but I love the people watching while still feeling safe and the fact that there are two little bodies of water to walk past make it much more enjoyable than a walk through the residential neighborhood near the apartment. We sat near the walking trail - perfect for people watching, and near the gardens - perfect to take in the last blooms of summer. After our scrumptious meal we walked past the boat house on the water. I've seen it packed with people and catered on evenings. I think it would be the perfect spot for a gala of sorts...particularly if you can set it for the sunset. This night, we could see people dancing and hear some music. How fun! What could this be?
We arrive to see an odd collection of people dancing to a random selection of exotic, foreign music. After watching for a while it is clear these aren't people who have just stopped by and joined in on the dance, they've come for the dance. Hmmmm, is this some kind of foreign dance class? There are clearly specific dance moves and I can see some of the confused/insecure dancers intently studying the feet of the pros. It isn't until the song," Sixteen going on Seventeen" comes on that I realize this isn't an exotic dance... this is a group of weirdos that have made their own regimented moves to music. Now I am noticing the women aren't very feminine and the men aren't very masculine. An awkward looking group of people. There is a lot of touching during the dancing. People are serious! They are sweating and taking breaks and in between songs some of them are seriously trying to learn the correct moves. One man is friendly withe ladies, another has a biker look but his tough exterior vanishes while he flails he hands in the air while he moves.
It is strange to me, I could watch for hours but Matt is ready to go. We try to figure out what drives the people to come. Are they hoping to connect with other people? Does this make them feel more cultural? Is it for the exercise?
After a google search, I've learned it is, indeed, called Ethnic Dancing. huh

Wow, it's been awhile.
Life has been wonderful, busy, stressful and sad. Who has time to blog?

Without a ton of detail, here's what's been going on:

I turned 30! And what other way to celebrate such a milestone than to celebrate in a foreign country?! and visit your little sister as she works in Italy?!
We had a great time. We arrived in Rome - which was an exhausting city filled with so much history... and graffiti. Then we traveled to Vicenza, a sweet little town with cute cafes, snazzy shops and charm, to see Cadena and her life in Italia. We took day trips to Venice, a beautiful and enchanting city, and Verona.

The Music Scene

What I'm loving about this big city scene is the live music. We've been able to enjoy a few great concerts. Concerts, that back in the day would've meant a commute to the city and a long, late trip back. Who would drive? Where would we eat? Could we get off work early?

Now, it's just a little drive, or light rail trip. 

I was able to get tickets to a sold out concert, Adele, a couple of months ago. It took some craigslist research and meeting a strange man on the side of the road in LoDo and refusing his generous offer for a ride to the show, but it was fantastic. 

A couple of weekends ago we went to see Greg Laswell in some sketchy club mostly known for their punk bands. It is extra special to feel safe at these random places with a protective strong man at my side. 

We love the Walnut Room, a venue that has local performers, as well as some up and coming artists. It happens to be where we went on our second date to see Basia Bulat and while dating, fell in love with Will Dailey. 

We also got to see Autumn Film for free at a bbq joint that has live music. 

I've said it before, there's just nothing quite like listening to an artist/band perform their music live, listen to their in-between stories and get a sense of their personality... and sing along out loud or with quiet lip movements.

I could get used to this!

Spring Fever

Spring 
Karla Kuskin 

I'm shouting 
I'm singing 
I'm swinging through trees 
I'm winging sky-high 
With the buzzing black bees.
I'm the sun 
I'm the moon 
I'm the dew on the rose.
I'm a rabbit 
Whose habit 
Is twitching his nose.
I'm lively 
I'm lovely 
I'm kicking my heels.
I'm crying "Come dance"
To the freshwater eels.
I'm racing through meadows 
Without any coat 
I'm a gamboling lamb 
I'm a light leaping goat 
I'm a bud 
I'm a bloom 
I'm a dove on the wing.
I'm running on rofftops 
And welcoming spring!

I came home to find these beautiful tulips from my sweet husband. 

Cupcakes

My current obsession is cupcakes. 

I was frustrated with the delay of the cupcake craze taking so long to get to Colorado. Now that I'm in the big city, I cannot get enough of them. 

It started when Christina sent me a link from a Denver paper about a new cupcake shop. When Cadena was driving through, and I was home sick, she asked if I needed anything. "I need a cupcake." I had been thinking about them since the news of the new shop and had almost attempted to find it on my own this sad sick day, but it was all I could do to muster enough energy to go to McDonald's for a fatty lunch and cheap movie. 

Hmph - so, we all agreed they were disappointing, with thick icing that tasted more like crisco. 

This did not deter my interest or desire for cupcakes, but instead, challenged me to find the best one in town. 

For mom's birthday, we went out to do a Cupcake Challenge. There are two bakeries across from each other on Colfax Ave. One, with traditional fluffy finds and the other with more artistic rich ones. 

For the record, two size-able cupcakes in one setting is more than enough. 

 On another day, Cadena was back in town, had stopped somewhere to chill for a while and discovered their cupcakes with espresso icing. She offered to pick me up from work, and we headed right back there - I needed one!

After purchasing an icing tool, 

I was easily convinced to take the cupcake making class at a local cooking 

school with a co-worker. 3 hours, 5 recipes and I had to try them all. It wasn't until after the class, that I realized by tasting half of each recipe (which I thought exhibited great self-control), I had finished off 2 1/2 cupcakes. Lunch - check. 

It was so fun to have friends over that evening, after dinner and short films, to share the last of the treasures. 5 cupcakes cut in fourths!

Now co-workers keep asking when we'll bring some in to work. Oh no, I think not. These aren't the kind cupcakes you bring in to work to have scarfed down by people who don't know your name. My adventure will continue.... until I've tried them all!

Thanks Cadena, for your great support in my cupcake treasure hunt. 

RTD BLUES

"I want to live in a big city with public transportation."

Now that I'm here I recognize my naivete. 

As a people watcher, who generally cannot get enough of observing, public transportation has let me down a number of ways.

#1 In such small perimeters it is really hard to watch without being caught... and to stop watching after being caught especially when they're sitting right across from you. Oh, these eyes are rebellious.

#2 During rush hours, it is standing room only and any period of time is a long time to rely on inner core strength and rubber hand loops to keep you upright and not all over the person who is standing so very close to you.

#3 While the majority of people seem to be aware of others, there is a pocket of people who are oblivious to the hoards of bodies all around them when they: 

a. talk on the cell phones (answering work calls and speaking with important work voices, shoot the sh*t on the way to get antabuse while they complain about the roommate who moved out just b/c their dog pooed under her bed and that they can't move into a new apartment b/c they have a misdemeanor on their record, discuss grandma's health and what they're having for dinner)

b. put their bag next to them, taking up two seats in a standing room only train

c. laugh and giggle when their child is screaming incessantly 

d. try to climb in before you can get out

e. have trouble breathing through their nose and make horrible noises when they breathe through their mouth, so much so, that as you hear the sound right behind you, you find yourself grasping for your own breath (not to worry, I saw her again and she is capable of smoking).

#4 No matter the time or circumstance I am always just missing the train I need. While the wait isn't usually more than 8 minutes, it's a long 8 minutes if:

a. it's cold outside

b. you're late to work

c. you ran to the train, pushed the "open door" button, only to watch the train pull away and use those minutes to rehash the harshness of rejection and rejection with an audience

d. you know that was the last pre-rush hour train and the next will be packed and you can kiss a seat goodbye

Unfortunately, because my public transport is almost always on cranky mornings (I mean, which work days don't start with those?) or after long work days and in small, crowded spaces, I've lost some of my excitement with analyzing people and their conversations. Currently, I most enjoy the rides when I've got my ipod and can't hear those around me, or have found something interesting to read on my blackberry. To great relief, I recently found myself in an open space with lots of people and enjoyed taking them all in and watching them be them. Phew! My passion is still there - just not with commuters. 

- I should note, I've not experienced a train as crowded as the image I've included-

The Fire

We went to the early service at church - it starts at 8:30. Inevitably, we always arrive late, which at out church, isn't nearly as shameful as it would be in most places. 

After such an early rise, I could hardly wait to snuggle up on the couch. My eyes closed, I drifted into sweet sleepiness.... and then I heard yelling - confusing my peaceful slumber. Kids playing a game? It doesn't sound fun. A family fight? It isn't ending. 

Eventually, I crawled off the couch and to the porch, walked out on the the balcony and saw a shocking sight. The apartment building across the lawn was on fire! Huge flames from the bottom apartment balcony all the way to the next balcony. The yelling? Neighbors screaming at people in floors above the flames to "GET OUT!" 

There were at least 9 fire trucks/engines that sirened in to save the scene and the fire fighters put the flames out shortly after they arrived and hooked up their hoses. 

The smoke billowed for a while and plenty of us gathered on the lawn to watch and take it all in. 

Fortunately, no one was home in the apartment that started aflame. And no one lived the the two apartments above. Unfortunately, the family who lived there has no home. 

I am even more thankful, now, that the candle I forgot to blow out, a few months ago, didn't burst into flames in this high rise apartment, but instead just flickered on and made the whole place smell good upon my return home. 

The story... After this short break.

bad boys bad boys... whatchya gonna do?

My work neighbor (partner, as he calls me) is an ex-sheriff texan with a strong draw and a power struggle. He may be my work nemesis but the jury is still out. It’s when he calls me on the phone when he needs something, despite working in offices with paper thin walls, so I get a good surround sound effect or at the times when I truly need his assistance and he is pre-occupied with a personal cell call or an instant message conversation.
 
Yesterday Mr. I’ll-call-you-Miss-almost-as-direct-insult-of-your-new-Mrs.-Status asked me if I’d done any arrests or pat downs. I gave him a disturbed face, “No! I come from a county where we don’t do arrests…we call law enforcement for that!” He then explained he would be arresting a female client in his office and would need my assistance to pat her down. Perhaps I should watch someone who has been trained in such shenanigans but everyone agreed it wasn’t a big deal. “Well…. I’ve seen COPS.”
 
The female client wasn’t a screaming lunatic or even a safety threat. She just smelled bad. I did my obligatory pat, pleased to see she had chosen to wear shorts (avoiding the ankle touch) and her shirt was tight enough to confirm no hidden weapons. It was the under the b pat that I refused to administer. No thank you, kindly. Even after my non-frisky frisk I left the room in shame and discomfort.
 

So the sadness of my brilliant email-to-blackberry-to-blogspot-plan has a major flaw. I can’t figure out how to post pictures, which I find so much joy in.

it's me!

I know! I know!
It’s been too long!
Life has been crazy non-stop. On a weekly basis I think of things I could/should/want to blog on (don’t ask me what they all are now), but due to being a newlywed, with a busy schedule and a non-working computer, it has been impossible to keep updated.
I will attempt to write this at work (shhhh…) email it to myself on my blackberry (Merry Christmas from my husband, who understands my need and desire to stay connected) and copy and paste to the blog..
Wish me luck on this test run!