Thoughts on Thirty

I am admittedly one of those people who fears aging and therefore, birthdays. It may have started on my seventeenth birthday when my dog died unexpectedly. Perhaps it left a touch of PTSD. Or maybe it was when my Intro to Public Health professor wrote the year 2068 on the board — the year we would likely die according to life expectancy — and the reality of my own death fell upon me like a forceful waterfall, crushing me. Cue quarter life crisis. Regardless of when or how this fear grew in me, it did. With the temps cooling and the leaves changing, comes my anxious awaiting of October 17th. Start me a Versed drip and turn the calendar page, please!

My mom has always been grateful for each birthday she is given. Why hasn’t that been instilled in me? I have friends and family who treat me like a princess on my birthday. I get the most thoughtful and generous gifts. Last year, four of my best friends flew thousands of miles to be with me on my day! But is it the gift of time?? No.

We’ve all fallen down the “I want my first baby by 35 so I’ll need to get pregnant at 34 but I want to be married for a year and be engaged for a year and date for 2 years so I have to meet him right now" rabbit hole, amiright? Also, I took Maternity Nursing class! The risk for poor health results for mom and baby just start shooting up after 30! The fear is real, my friends. 

I care about nutrition so much because I don’t want to get sick and die young. I am morally opposed to naps because it wastes precious time. I am deeply bothered by celebrating holidays too early. I will not enjoy anything pumpkin flavored until it is officially fall and I damn well won’t think about Christmas until after Thanksgiving! Macy’s had Christmas stuff up mid-September and I firmly believe whoever was behind that should be crucified. Why are you rushing time? 

Now that I’ve explained some reasons why I hate birthdays and am dreading turning 30, I will explain why it is completely irrational, I know I’m crazy, and why I am lucky and stoked to turn 30.

Am I writing this to convince myself? For the most part, yes.

First of all, I’m lucky to be alive. Worrying about getting older is outrageous and horribly insensitive when there’s so many people in the world fighting for their lives and when there are lives taken too early. And I’ve lived a pretty fortunate life so YAY to celebrating 30 years of greatness.

I know for older folk, 30 is SO young, right? But remember when you were 9 and you thought you’d get married and have babies when you were 23? And you thought your teacher was so old but she was actually 30? And Lady Gaga was an icon by 25, 13 year olds are competing in the Olympics, Mark Zuckerberg launched Facebook when he was 20, and Malala Yousafzai won a Nobel Peace Prize at age 17. So, ya, sometimes 30 feels old.

But “success is perspectival,” says Joshua Fields Millburn of The Minimalists. I’m turning 30 and I don’t have a record label, a gold medal, or a Fortune 500 company, but I wasn’t trying for those things. I do have two bachelors degrees, have been to all but 5 states, have a good career and great girl friends, and a really cute dog. Is that success? Of course it is. 

I feel like I’m no longer finding myself, becoming myself. I am myself. I’ve become me. Sure, I’ll evolve a bit over time, but nothing like what I’ve done already. And I think I’ve done a pretty damn good job so far.  I’m still growing, of course. Always, keep growing. Ryan Nicodemos, the other half of The Minimalists, says if you’re not growing in life, you are dying. You are just living out your days.

My 30 years of life experience has brought me some other wisdom, too:

I’ve learned to love the in-between. Please, I beg you, do not wait until a certain point (to get the job, to make the move, to meet the someone) to be happy. Being happy now means finding the importance in, making the best of, and not just tolerating but thoroughly enjoying the time it takes you to get that thing you’re working towards, waiting for, dreaming of. Because really, isn’t life made up of so much more of those in-betweens than not? Enjoy the process.

I say this to remind myself. I live in the future so often. I’m a list maker, a planner, a dreamer. I literally can’t sleep sometimes thinking about something that’s happening in a month or a year. It’s important to keep these dreams in mind in order to reach them but at some point, enough is enough. Sit back and enjoy the present. That future will come and then you can sit back and enjoy that, presently.

I’m trying to give less fucks. Or at least be more picky about what I give a fuck about. Sometimes, it is important to care. At other times, things just nag at you; don’t let you sleep at night. Maybe there’s nothing you can do to change it. Maybe the only option is to let go. Those are the things I’m trying not to care about anymore. Let myself free; let myself sleep. Sometimes it takes some soul searching to realize what to do: care, not care and let go, or modify the thing at hand and reassess. It’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up your thoughts, ideas, plans, and relationships. I’m trying to clear out that mess for the next decade and not carry those things over. You shouldn’t wait for a new month or year or decade, though. Do it now. But… Better late than never.

This past decade, I’ve spent some time thinking “What the eff am I doing here?” I’m not so wise that I can answer that yet, but when I’m feeling motivated I think “I don’t know, but let’s do it anyway!” In his essay about lessons he’s learned in his first 30 years, Millburn writes: “Giving is living. The best way to live a worthwhile life is simple: continuously grow as an individual and contribute to other people in a meaningful way. Growth and contribution: that’s the meaning of life.” I like this idea. It’s certainly as good an answer as any other. I’m on board.

Thirty will bring education and career changes and lots of travel. I will be out of my comfort zone. Not a toe dip into discomfort zone, but really thrown into the deep end. I should note: I cried in my first swimming lesson when we were told to jump into the deep end. Better luck this time. Let’s be honest, I’ll still cry, but this time I get to fix it with alcohol. But keep your boxed wine. I’m a grown-ass adult now. Pour me a bourbon.

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Right now I am sitting in an Adirondack chair in my parents’ back yard in Massachusetts, typing with very poor ergonomics because there’s a large dog on my lap. I’ve been enjoying sunny mornings in this yard for a week shy of 30 years. That, and so much more, makes me a pretty lucky lady. Life is good. Here’s to many more birthdays I am fortunate enough to complain about.

I have loved. I have laughed, grown, and contributed. And for that I am grateful.

I have hated. I have hurt, damaged, and lied. And for that I am sorry.

I have lived. And for that I bear no regrets.

[Joshua Fields Millburn]

I’ve turned to The Minimalists for help cleaning out my closet and also, for the meaning of life. Seriously, If you don’t know who they are, check them out:  theminimalists.com

To read Joshua Fields Millburn’s essays on turning 30:
http://www.theminimalists.com/30/
http://www.theminimalists.com/30lessons/ 

Less dismal follow-up

After my last post I got a lot of messages checking on me. This is incredibly sweet. It also made me realize I sounded a bit depressed. And desperate. So this is a much needed, clarifying, follow-up post. 

I was a little emotional when writing the last post but, I do believe in everything I said. However, and this is important, I do not usually sit around moping that I do not have a boy friend, I’m lonely, and I hate Denver. Actually, the opposite is much more often true. I go between wanting to actively date and wanting to be on my own (but open to passively finding love). Ninety percent of the time it’s the latter. I am excited to travel nurse, and hopefully work abroad to really fulfill dreams, even though it might make me more alone than I am now. Really, I’m quite lucky to not have anything holding me down so I can do all of these things. It would get complicated if I had to think about someone other than myself and Henley, and being a single mom is enough on my plate. 

I have chosen this independent road and I do not regret it. I do not regret moving to Denver, nor do I hate it here. It’s not the place for me to stay forever, but I’m going to enjoy it while I’m here. I want to enjoy everything I have while I have it. That includes being on my own. Because there will be a day that I’m having a hard time compromising — he wants a healthy meal, I want pizza; he wants to go out, I want to stay in; he wants to keep hiking, I want to camp for the night — and I’ll think (and say out loud to myself without regard for someone else hearing) “Remember how good it was when you were single?”

This brings me to my second point. I am willing to change my mind about all of this. We are ever-changing and I embrace that. I want to travel, but I may find on the first assignment that the quick turnaround is not for me. Or maybe I find a place I love and don’t want to leave. I am willing to stay in one place, if I find a place that tells me to stay. If I find a person to do life with, I may have to make compromises, which will change everything. I’ve heard that’s what you do in relationships. I don’t want to trap myself now in “definitely”s and nothing is written in stone. Fear of commitment? Sure. But I’m also going to stick with that “we’re ever-changing” thing. 

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Hygge. Are you familiar with this word? Pronounced hoo-guh, it is a Danish concept, a little word that means a lot. Here is one definition: 

The art of building sanctuary and community, of inviting closeness and paying attention to what makes us feel open hearted and alive. To create well-being, connection and warmth. A feeling of belonging to the moment and to each other. Celebrating the everyday. Hygge happens when we commit to the pleasure of the present moment in its simplicity. It’s there in the small rituals and gestures we undertake to give everyday life value and meaning, that comfort us, make us feel at home, rooted and generous (hygge.co).

I came across this idea on a blog post called “How to Hygge: or 29 ways to actually enjoy winter” (yesandyes.org). I still think about it frequently and fully believe in the concept. I like taking something ordinary and making it special. I feel it when it’s raining out and I make tea and read. I feel it every time I light a candle. When I’m bored, feeling pessimistic about where I am or what I’m doing, or just disliking the gloomy weather, I try to go into hygge mode. I do something intentional. 

After I complained about not wanting to come home to Denver, I felt bad and I walked around the city just looking at street art. We have some phenomenal street art. Ever since moving here I’ve been trying to hike in different places. I have a few favorites I revisit, but for the most part, I go to a new place each time. I will continue to do that and explore this gorgeous state. Don’t wait for a special day. Make every day special. Hygge.

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We need to live in the present. We can’t wait for life to start once something else happens. I’m not waiting to be happy for when I meet a certain person and live in a certain place. Right now is good. Everything is good and I’m happy. 

Anyway, my point is… I am okay. I’m great.

Run wild until you find someone just as wild to run with.

Days 9-10: Driving & Reflecting

I’m not sure how or why the storm hit today. Maybe I was just tired from a short, restless, drunken sleep on a shared top bunk in a strange house. Sleep deprivation plus a weekend of sensory overload; lovely, but emotional events; and surrounded by beautiful, strong, happy relationships wore me down. I got in the car to leave Leavenworth and I released it all. I cried intermittently through most of Washington and Oregon while I reflected on the week and my life. 

This is hard for me; to write on a public platform as if I have human emotions and sadness is a prevailing one. But I have been reading Glennon Doyle Melton, a bulimic/alcoholic turned recovering mom, blogger, and now New York Times best seller. Her openness and honesty is inspiring and I’m trying to take a page from her book. 

I have been single for nine years. That right there alone is embarrassing enough to highlight, delete, and write about a fun, dry-eyed drive home instead. I could even lie and say I saw buffalo. But… Glennon. I think it is incredibly important to be able to be on your own, to be capable of taking care of yourself, to feel at peace when you are alone, to be okay with doing things, not just sitting at home, alone. I was, am, very proud of my decision to end a serious relationship to prove to myself that I can do these things. There is a point where I think people need this. Once you graduate from that, you can stay alone if you want it. And I did for a long time. But I have mastered being alone. I certainly no longer need it. And at times, I do not want it either. 

I was SO busy during nursing school that I didn’t want to spend my almost nonexistent free time with strangers or trying to get to know someone. Now, I have a lot of free time. I’m also nearing thirty. I have been open to sharing my life with someone else for a while now, but I may have a ridiculous number of boxes that must all be checked so it seems unlikely. I often don’t think about this, I don’t sit around and overanalyze or feel sad or feel jealous around other couples. Until this weekend.

This group of couples, in particular, is what did it I think. And I mean that as the greatest compliment. They seem to me to be such strong, happy, fun-filled relationships. They laugh at each other in the kindest way. They are best friends and partners. Sarah and Niles are the epitome of this and I love seeing them together. Their love is inspiring. Over the course of their relationship, they have made me want a man by my side, a lap for Henley to snuggle in, a dad for future children, a permanent adventure buddy. But it was a long week with so many of these wonderful relationships that the inspiration wasn’t lifting anymore; it was saddening.

There’s more. Community. They have this. These extraordinary people are all Christians and it seems that their community is based on this. I do not have religion and I don’t feel at a loss at all by this, but it does leave me with a lack of community formed in this way. I’m not sure how to get community. It might help if I didn’t move somewhere where I knew no one and didn’t spend most of my time alone. I have always known Sarah to value community and find it wherever she goes and I have admired this, but in a way that I found it interesting. I had never thought about community for myself and didn’t necessarily feel that it was important. But again… the compiling of factors of this weekend. Suddenly community feels extremely important and I do not have it at all. I have a few good friends in Denver. I really like the people I work with. I still do not feel part of a community and I don’t see it happening in Denver. Did I have a community when I lived closer to friends and family? Did I have one growing up in a small town? Or did I not feel the need to have one because I was in a small town? I have so many questions.

At this point, I sure as hell didn’t feel like road tripping and exploring new places. I skipped all of my plans for the trip home, entered Denver into the GPS, and started driving the shortest route, not caring where that was. And here’s another thing. I didn’t even want to be going to Denver. It doesn’t feel like home. I either wanted to go to my real home (Massachusetts) or really at the time, I wanted to go to Seattle. I didn’t want to leave these people that made me feel like I had the possibility to have these things I wanted. Also, because Seattle is a rad city and better than Denver and I kinda want to move there. 

It’s now been some time since my emotional break in Washington and I feel better. Feeling emotionally stable, however, has not changed my desire for these things. I feel that my life is missing something, but honestly, I don’t think I’m about to run out and look for it. It may be laziness, but I think more likely, it’s fear.

I planned on travel nursing after my contract is up in Denver. I planned to travel alone to places where I know no one. I’m planning to continue my life in the exact same way it is now, but actually to a higher degree because I’ll be on these assignments for about thirteen weeks. That’s not enough time for me to make friends and I can certainly say see ya later to the community idea.

I don’t know what to do. I just have to trust I will figure it out. Someday. 

Days 6-8: Leavenworth

We had a busy morning of wedding prep. Sarah and I got mani+pedis, packed, and loaded everything in cars. Niles picked up Dani, an old friend of Sarah’s, at the airport and I fell in love with her. I hope she is my new best friend. We all headed a couple hours east into the Cascade Mountains to the Brown Family Homestead in Leavenworth.

The drive was beautiful as the mountains got bigger and snowier and the Wenatchee River was raging. I dropped Henley off at the boarder, as he is not allowed at the venue. This is my first (and probably last) time boarding him and it is heart-wrenching.

It is so special that so many friends and family are here for longer than just the evening of the wedding. I have met more people every day; people I’ve been hearing about for so long. At the homestead, there are several farm houses we are taking over. The girls in the wedding party have a big house right next to the tent, the boys have a house a few minute walk down the street, and a lot of family are staying in a whole lodge down another street. 

Downtown Leavenworth is modeled as a Bavarian village. We drove into town, actually a half hour from the homestead, for a casual German sausage dinner in a beer garden at Munchen Haus then walked down the Bavarian streets to Icicle Brewing Company. Here is where I finally got a tour of a Sprinter camper van. Friends of Sarah and Niles, an amazing newlywed couple, are living my dream and starting to live full-time in their van they are converting themselves. All my obsessing over vanlife and I don’t actually know anyone that does it. I finally got to nerd out with like-minded people.

In the morning, Sarah’s family cooked breakfast for everyone at their lodge. I was overwhelmed with the love everyone had for this couple and again, it is just so special we were all together for the weekend celebrating them. We then made brown bag lunches and went for a walk around Lake Wenatchee to marvel at this place. I snuck out afterwards and drove the thirty-five minutes to the boarder to take Henley for a walk. I was worried that on top of being neglected and tortured there, he also wouldn’t be getting enough exercise, which would just exacerbate the pain of me leaving him at a strange place. I got back with enough time to rush to get ready for the rehearsal dinner. The dinner, which Sarah’s family cooked themselves for about fifty people, was amazing as many friends got up to say very kind and true words about the couple.

On Saturday morning, we got the tent ready for the evening and got ourselves ready, milling around, drinking champagne, getting help from the professional hair and make up girls Sarah happens to be friends with. 

The wedding was as beautiful as expected. We had a long walk from the house up a grassy hill to the ceremony while Our Love by Judah & the Lion played. I wept through the rest of the ceremony, as I watched Niles cry tears of joy through it all too. Sarah walked down to Soon, My Friend by M83 and I know I am biased, but she very well may have been the most beautiful bride to ever walk down the aisle.

Sarah and Niles happen to be a physically attractive couple, but I promise their beauty comes from so deep within. They are some of the kindest and definitely the most joyful, positive, intentional people I know. They are lights and the world is lucky they exist and I’m so happy they exist together. Their love for each other is inspiring, which I talked about at the wedding and have included below. 

The rest of the night was so fun, as Sarah and Niles happen to be friends with the best dancers around. It was a late night of typical wedding shenanigans that will go down in history in professionally edited photos and videos I cannot wait to watch one zillion times. 

Ugh. I just have so much love for them.

 

   

Day 5: Seattle

I was so lucky to have a full day of Sarah in Seattle before having to share her the rest of the weekend. We had a slow morning with coffee and breakfast at home. The weather was just lovely, as it surprisingly has been my whole time in the PNW, so we walked around Ballard again. We got coffee at Anchored Ship Coffee Bar, had a Rainer beer while shopping around Filson, and meandered through a few other shops, all of which Henley was welcome in. We picked up sandwiches to go at The Other Coast Cafe, walked home, then the four of us went for a run around Discovery Park, as if I needed to be more sold on Seattle. 

We showered and made ourselves look presentable because Sarah’s uncle was taking us all (other family in town for the wedding) out for a very fancy dinner at Aqua. It’s nice to do that once in a while and pretend to feel like you belong and feel completely at ease at places like that, just to make sure you can still do it. Pretend, I mean. “This $150 entree is not shocking at all and I feel it is completely reasonable to eat one plate of food for that price instead of feeding a family for a month.” See? I nailed it. 

(Seriously, the food was delicious — I chose a less expensive meal — and we had fun and it was incredibly kind and generous of Sarah’s uncle to do that!)

We ended the night with some wedding prep. The pieces of this wedding not yet tied beautifully together are already beautiful as they sit in boxes in the apartment. It is going to be a lovely weekend. 

Day 4: WA coast >> Seattle

I woke in the fogged up car stiff and sore. I may be getting too old for this. We took our last, long walk on the beach as the sun rose over the sandy cliffs. We drove south, stopped at a trading post for gas and coffee, and headed towards Seattle, three hours away. 

I entered the city from the south and I imagine it is the best way. First, you go through the Industrial District and the busy shipyard. Then the city skyline comes into view with the ferris wheel on the water and the Space Needle adding diversity among the more commonly-shaped buildings. I love the colors of the shipping containers and the grit of the shipyard against the shiny city skyline. 

To this day, when I am driving on the Pike and drive by Fenway and can start to see the Boston skyline, my heart fills with joy, excitement, and pride and love for that city. Boston is home so it does have a leg up on everywhere else, but it’s not just that, because I had a similar giddy feeling driving into Seattle. Do you know when I don’t get that feeling? Driving into Denver. I think of Colorado and Denver as separate places. Colorado is incredible, but I have no feelings towards Denver. I don’t have negative feelings towards Denver, but I certainly don’t get butterflies coming home here. 

Sarah’s shower and washing machine were as beautiful as her.  After I was clean and the laundry was started, I could enjoy the company of my dear friends as well as some of their family that was already in town for the wedding and a couple of Niles’ friends I hadn’t met yet. We piled into a pick up with two guys and two dogs in the capped bed and went to the dog park at Woodland Park at Green Lake. Henley oddly got comfy in a cardboard box filled with what I hope was nothing important. 

Later, we went down Ballard Ave. We got Mexican at La Carta de Oaxaca, molten lava cake at Hot Cakes, and cocktails at Percy’s. I can always rely on Sarah to bring me to the best places, even in my own city of Boston. She has great taste, which is why I keep her around.

When I was sitting at dinner with Sarah, Niles, and two of their friends shortly after arriving in this city I have been to only once before and with some people I had met only a couple hours prior, I felt happy, welcomed, and at peace, like I belong here.

It’s just something to think about.

   

It got even more interesting when the second large dog was brought in.

You’re always one decision away from a totally different life.

Day 3: Washington coast

We slept in until seven. I went through the morning routine of shaking some fur off the blankets and putting everything back from the front seats to the way back. I have had a tried and true system down pat.

I washed up in the bathroom with baby wipes and Dr. Bronner’s, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and changed clothes. I put some make up on in the driver’s seat. I’ve been wearing this one outfit for the past couple days that is not yoga pants and sneakers and I’m so proud of myself. I think I have a perfectly good excuse for comfy clothes seeing as I’ve been sitting in the car driving so much, but no, I’m wearing jeans. I am a goddess. They’re a lot better with the dog fur situation and I haven’t washed them in so long they’re actually pretty comfortable. Goddess.

We walked on the beach for a long time. We went all the way down to a jetty, which was too far away to tell how big it was; if it was possible to walk on. It was, in fact, very wide with a flat top so we climbed up. There were big boulders a short way down that I’m sure were meant to prevent walking further, but I found an Emily-sized hole and slipped through. The jetty was covered in an uncomfortably-large gravel that threatened to sprain an ankle every 30 seconds. I will forgive the builders as it wasn’t meant to be a public walking path. 

When we got closer to the water spraying up on one side from the waves and I was thinking about turning back before I turned into a tragic Baywatch episode, I heard a wet snort. I looked down on the left side of the jetty where the water was calm twenty feet below and a smooth, gray seal face with big, dark, almond eyes was looking up at me. I couldn’t believe he said hi first! Obviously, his snort was to get my attention. I waved and said “HI BUDDY!!!” I could die today and be happy.

Walking back, I heard seals barking and saw a group of them on the other side of the jetty bobbing around in the waves. Seagulls cawed loudly, flying overhead like a horror movie, and I slipped back through my hole. I took my boots off now that the sun had time to warm the sand. I gave Henley string beans when he posed appropriately for my pictures. And that’s how our morning went.

We left Cape Disappointment and drove 101 North for the rest of the day’s drive. We stopped in South Bend where I was hoping to charge my laptop, write and post with WiFi, drink coffee, and all in a place that was Henley-friendly. I found a coffee shop, Elixir, that checked every single box. We stayed there for a while, enjoying the now-a-days-normalcy of Internet access. 

Heading north, we stopped at Quinault Rain Forest in Olympia National Forest where we took a short walk amongst the biggest trees I’ve ever seen. 

I meant to drive to Ruby Beach today, a place I fell in love with on my big U.S. road trip. The campground I ended up choosing to stay at tonight, Kalaloch, is a bit south of Ruby so we came here first to claim a spot. After seeing the beach 20 yards away from my site, I figured there was no need to get back in the car, drive north just to walk on a different beach, then come back down here. I have a perfectly good beach right here. So we stayed put.

(Ruby Beach is better in every way and I love her with all of my heart, but I just don’t feel like driving anymore.) 

We walked on the beach some more, then walked down the street to a tiny grocery store where I bought smoked salmon, a bag of peanut MnMs, and a 187 mL bottle of Sutter Home Merlot. I know what you’re thinking: How tasteless to drink red with seafood, I know. 

I just realized this is the last time I will fall asleep with the waves for a long time and I feel sad. At least I have peanut MnMs. 

It was a bit windy out.

Dinner is served: piece of French baguette almost stale enough to rip out my teeth, local smoked salmon for $10.50, avocado and cucumber that have been sitting in a cooler with melted ice for three days, and wine so bad I couldn't drink it. Must have had to breathe. 

Day 2: OR > WA

Again I planned to leave at 5 and again I left at 6. When I woke, I felt like it had been a long night’s sleep. I checked my phone — it was 11:45 p.m. I went back to bed and when I woke again, it had again felt like a long night’s sleep. I checked my phone — it was 12:30. The night continued on like this, but when my alarm went off in the morning, I was comfy and warm and didn’t want to go out into the dark and the wind. Plus, overnight, the best van parked next to me so I was hoping to meet up with them when it was later.

We made our usual many stops to pee, get gas, give Henley water, eat a snack, feed Henley, get coffee or something to sip on just to stay awake. It’s nice when many of these can be checked off at one stop, but it often doesn’t align this way. 

We drove to Pendleton where we got a good walk in. It was very quiet on a Sunday morning. It seemed like a pretty typical, weird, Western town. We did visit the Pendleton Woolen Mills store, though. Then we drove along the Columbia River and turned off at the town of Hood River. This area has the Fruit Loop drive. I didn’t see signs for this or advertised at all, but they do have a website, which is how I knew to stop. It’s not an exact loop drive, so that's confusing. The area has many fruit stands, wineries, country stores, orchards, and flowers. 

Mount Hood. What can I say about Mount Hood? I live in Colorado so I see mountains. But Mount Hood… It is the most majestic mountain I ever did see. I think it’s because he is all alone and not mixed in a range of equal value mountains. You’re just driving along and all of the sudden, Huge, perfect-mountain-shaped, white-snow-covered Mount Hood is there standing over you. I don’t know how people from there get anything done. 

We got back on 84 West, went past Portland, and on toward Cannon Beach. I don’t know why big ass rocks in the water make this place so much more magnificent than a regular beach, but they do. I was in jeans and boots and not dressed warm enough for the wind that was there, but we just started running, so happy to be on the coast, any coast, never mind this perfect specimen of a coast. It was a busy little beach town, but we only spent time on the beach before leaving. 

We headed up the 101 for an hour to Ilwaco, Washington. We are camped at Cape Disappointment, the most south western point of Washington. This is the first time I’ve ever paid to stay at a campground and man, am I glad I did. I am still going to sleep in my car though! I brought all my camping stuff, but I’d have to set it up then take it down and probably be less warm, comfortable, and dry out there. From where I am sitting in the back of my car, I can see the ocean and the darkening sky through the trees. We walked about one and a half minutes through the trees to get to the beach and it only took that long because you have to scramble over huge tree-size drift wood. We walked a long time, wanting to be out there when the sun set. 

I’m going to read and eat chocolate and spoon Henley then fall asleep to the lullaby of the waves. 

Day 1: CO > WY > UT > ID > OR

I planned to leave my house at 5 a.m. this morning so it was completely unrealistic to set my alarm for 4:40. I left exactly one hour after my planned time. I drove out of the city with The Sultan by The Squires playing on my Colorado Public Radio music station, which sounds like it’s from a Quentin Tarantino movie set in the ‘70s. The snowy ridge line was on my left while the sun rose on my right, illuminating Henley like a freakin’ angel. He had tired eyes this morning. Maybe he’s just tired of road trips. 

It was a very long day of driving. I covered a lot of ground, even more than I meant to, but all I really wanted to do today was get closer to the coast. Plus, it stays light so late, and I gained an hour when I crossed into the Pacific time zone. Now I have less driving to do tomorrow when I actually have things I want to do on the way. I didn’t do anything of note besides take in the scenery. It was some good scenery. 

I don’t know if these big grassy things are called hills or mountains. They’re grassy like a hill, but they’re big like mountains, but not as big or maybe not at a very high elevation because they don’t have a tree line where many plants can’t grow above, like mountains do. Okay, they’re very big hills.

Utah was really beautiful. Those green, grassy hills leading up to dark gray rugged peaks covered with snow. At one point, I turned a bend and said Oh My God out loud. When you make exclamations out loud when you’re alone, you know it’s good. (Henley doesn’t count because he was sleeping.) There were yellow flowered fields, the greenest of green pastures speckled with cows and horses and little white deer (maybe deer?) I had never seen before. I stopped at great dog park in Ogden, outside of Salt Lake City. From Denver, you drive through foothills to get to the bigger mountains. In Utah, there’s houses and then in their backyards is just BAM, wall of rock up to a snowy peak. It’s incredible.

Oregon continued to wow me with it’s rolling green hills and snowy peaks back at the horizon. When it started getting dark, I pulled off at a rest stop. I kind of love sleeping at rest stops. It feels a little homey, I guess because I’ve done it so many times. The location is always different, but my too-small car and this furry dog is always the same. There’s usually a few other cars staying the night. It’s not scary that people are around; it’s comforting. We have this thing in common, like we’re in a club together. A weird, creepy club. 

I bought Henley his own sleeping bag at Walmart. Thirteen dollars. When I was trying to fit it in the car, on the floor behind the seats with the rest of the camping stuff and it wasn’t fitting, I realized if it was going to be in here it might as well be useful. So I opened it up and I’m using it as a blanket tonight and didn’t bring my down comforter. Hopefully it will be warm enough.  

I’m glad I’m sleeping among these hills tonight. The wind is blowing hard, rocking us to sleep. 

I risk my life every day taking photos of Henley while driving. If my body is found dead in my car and they make me a statistic saying it must have been the texting, don’t believe it. It wasn’t texting. It was taking photos of Henley. Or eating Taco Bell.

Longing for the Road

I’d like to write more frequently. If I’m being honest, one reason for that is that there’s so much that happens between my writings now that I can’t recount it all in the next post. And if I don’t write about it, the reader won’t know it happened. I’ve lived my 20s in the documenting-everything-for-others-to-see era. If you don’t post about it somewhere, it didn’t happen. I don’t believe in that. I mean, I believe the phenomena exists, but I don’t live that way. However, I do feel like I need to get at least one good photo out of a special day or trip or activity and what do I do with a good photo? I post it on Instagram. So I’ve wondered if I, too, have the need to show everyone that I’m doing cool things. No, no, no, I won’t let myself talk about myself like that. I know it’s not true because 97% of the time I only post on Instagram and not on Facebook where more people would see it. And I hate when I see a group of friends and they’re all on their phones and I’m horrified when I catch girls taking selfies with stupid faces and I refuse to use Snapchat. So, there.

Speaking of needing to share cool things… Since last writing ten months ago, I road tripped around Texas, went to Crested Butte a handful more times, saw my first concert at Red Rocks Amphitheater, taught Henley to dock jump, taught myself to play the ukulele, fought bed bugs, voted for a lady, hosted friends from home, spent a lot of money at the mechanic, spent my twenty-ninth birthday with four of my best friends from opposite ends of the country, tolerated work, got closer to some people and farther from others, camped many times and hiked a whole lot, drove home for Christmas, took a nutrition class, flew to California twice, and moved to a new apartment. 

I guess it’s been a busy first year in Colorado, and I have a lot planned for the coming months: a road trip with my friend Laura to her hometown in Georgia for the fourth of July, then Mom’s visiting, then Sarah, then Holly’s flying out for a trip to Tahoe, and I’m planning my twenty-two days off in October with a road trip home. 

But what are we up to right now?? About to embark on a road trip up to Washington for one of my best friend’s wedding! The beautiful bride, Sarah, is from southern California but lives in Seattle. Her and Niles love it there so much that they’re making the rest of us haul our asses up there to the forest in the middle of Washington to celebrate the union. If anyone deserves people traveling to them, it’s these two because they fly to California like twice a month for engagements, birthday parties, anything their friends need because they’re that kind of people. (Sarah is one of the loves that came to Denver for my birthday.) 

As soon as I knew the wedding was in Washington, I knew I needed time off to get more out of this trip instead of just flying in for the weekend. I LOVE the Pacific North West coast and I’ve spent so little time there; too little time. 

Here's an overview of the eleven days on the road: Boise, Idaho; Cannon Beach, Oregon; Ruby Beach, Washington; Seattle; Leavenworth, Washington for the wedding; Glacier National Park, Montana; Yellowstone National Park and Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming. Although, the ride home through Wyoming is kind of up in the air. It might be too cold and snowy at elevation this time of year. We will see.

We leave in less than a week. I’ve planned the schedule out mostly, and now just have to pack and day dream about the trip up there.

If you’re completely unfamiliar with the term and lifestyle “van life,” I am referring to spending long periods of time (road trips or even living) in a van. You set that thing up like a mini studio apartment and you’re set. It’s actually a pretty big little world out there. I would know because I follow so many of them on Instagram. Long trips on the road in my Subaru hatchback is really hard. It was pretty taxing on the three and a half week trip around the U.S. So I long for the day I have a bigger space. 

About 90% of my free thoughts are spent on van life and planning my future that would involve it. When I travel nurse, I could at least have the van to drive between assignments and explore the new region or even live in it at times. I’m thinking about becoming a nutrition consultant, which I would do from “home” and always have that job when I’m on the road or wherever I end up. I work on my checklist of requirements in my future van. I dream of sorting my clothes and belongings, minimalizing, and keeping the few things I would have space to live with. I think about the logistics of bathing, leaving Henley in there, where I would park. I see a park with no restricting signs and I think “Ohh yaaa, I could park there.” I check out every single van (and RV and pickup with cap and bus) I see on the road and I peruse Craigslist, looking for The One, even though I couldn't buy it right now if I found it. Every day I drool over the photos from the many Instagrammers I follow. 

Frequently these van lifers post a photo of their stuff everywhere, brushing their teeth in the drivers seat and they write about how van life is over-romanticized in the media. It's not all dreamy post-able pics. It's hard and messy. I appreciate these posts because I need to be kept in check. And I understand because I dream and dream and look forward to my road trips and then I get out there and it is only a fraction of the bliss I build it up to be, but I do it again and again. It has the uncanny ability to make me quickly forget the rough parts and plan another trip. And again I get out there and remember Oh ya, this is hard, and a little shitty. But it is also great, and right now I am in the stage of dreaming and longing for the road. I might change my tune in a few days time, but for now...  Greatness awaits.

Full tank, full heart.