Month: December 2014

Car Rides and Christmas

On the eve of Christmas Eve, my older sister and I shared my red blanket with the Colorado flag printed on it while murmuring quietly in my dad’s basement. A family argued on the television about how old you have to be to date and drink, but neither of us paid much attention. The new heater my dad bought warmed me into drowsiness, but I help conversation with my sister for a while before my mind begged me for sleep.

That was the first time my older sister and I ever hung out and talked in that house. By the time we moved to the northern end of Colorado Springs, she was almost out of high school, and back then we weren’t friendly towards one another. She, obviously, was older, and therefore cooler and uninterested in sibling love. When we did talk, it often led to bickering, as well as the occasional hole in the wall. Our little sisters like to have sleepovers in each other’s rooms and often fall asleep to giggles and whispers. If Mia and I ever tried to share a bed, one of us would inevitably be hurt by morning. She might have given me a bruise on the ribs, or I might have kicked her “unintentionally” in the face. We, in other words, were not friends. Our little sisters, however, are best friends. I like my sister being my sister, though. It’s a very different sort of relationship.

After a difficult night of sleep on the basement soda, I joined my dad in the kitchen to make breakfast. He prepared it all, but he had a doctor’s appointment–still cancer free!–so I cooked. And, to the younger girls’ pleasure, we opened every single bag and box beneath the pre-lit artificial tree. Later that evening, I underwent the same ceremony at my mom’s.

At this point, I would like to wish you all happy holidays, and I hope your 2015 starts out right!

On Christmas day, my mom and older sister boarded a plane headed to Oregon, and I drove from Colorado Springs back home. On my way through Denver, I started noticing the heavy black cloud with a curtain of white hanging below it. On my way out of Denver, the curtain blinded me. For an hour and a half, I drove at at a painfully slow rate to avoid sliding off the interstate as so many other vehicles already had. Half an hour of snow, and people’s bumpers were buried in ditches.

I was perfectly safe until hitting the exit ramp. Foot down all the way, nearly at a stop, and the ice slid my car into a stranger’s. It was a miracle I hit the nicest woman on the planet and did no damage whatsoever. Once I got home, though, I was shaking violently with anxiety-driven adrenaline. Wrapping me in his arms, Rob made me take a deep breath, and he calmed me down. The rest of my Christmas was leftovers and Bond films.

Now, I am happy to say I have some time to myself. I spent the day cleaning my apartment(which gets surprisingly disgusting if I leave my roommate to his own devices), I read a good chunk of John Dies at the End, and I’m just about ready to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

Be well, readers!



Last week, everything I touched broke, and everything I did went wrong.

Well, not everything, I suppose. On Monday, I celebrated my birthday with mimosas and good company. I didn’t break anything then that I know of. Unfortunately, Tuesday was the start of a bad week.

I managed to knock over two big displays at work, breaking a good amount of merchandise. My boss never cares, and we don’t have to pay for what gets broken, but I’d much prefer that I didn’t mimic a tornado. In addition to that, I broke something I was trying to clean for a friend, ripped the sole of a pair of shoes, snapped a broom in two, and dropped my hair dryer. It almost feels like the destruction will never end. Maybe it’s in my blood.

Oh, and I’ve been so busy studying for the GMAT and working Christmas season in retail that I forgot to mention the Master of Management Practice is still available if I get in for next semester. And considering I aced the GMAT, it wasn’t much of a surprise when I got my email of acceptance yesterday.

My mom is so happy to have two daughters going into masters programs. My older sister studied biology, however, and she is pursuing it even further. She’s already in a successful career with her own house and car. I have a feeling that owning a small business or editing won’t get me to the same point as quickly. Then again, I have no idea what lies ahead–in any category of life. Everyone seems to celebrate their 20’s as much as possible: drinking publicly, wearing youthful clothing, meeting various partners. To me, at least for now, my 20’s are unstable and confusing.

I don’t mean I’m unstable. I’ve never felt better in my life, actually. But I don’t know where I’ll be in sixth months, let alone in several years. The ground shifts constantly beneath my feet, and while I have decent balance, it’s starting to make me uncomfortable. It makes me dread the ground falling out beneath me.

A pretty personal example of this is my relationship. It’s great. We’re a strong couple, but we discussed long distance and won’t do it. Rob graduates in May, and by entering this program I know for a fact I’m staying where I am for at least one more year. Already, though, he is applying for jobs around the country, and he knows he plans to jump around before settling down in one place. It’s likely that I’ll spend several years saving money before opening my business, but I don’t know if I’ll be jumping around with him. I want to ask him to wait just a little longer for me to graduate, but I never want to hold him back.

So for selfish reasons, I pray he gets a job in Colorado. Because I love him more than words and want him to succeed with joy, though, I plan to urge him to do what is best for him, even if it means him moving to Texas or Illinois. So that’s one reason I consider my 20’s a time of instability. I have no control over my future in many aspects.

Rob and I did get a wonderful gift from my boss, and Sunday night we had dinner and rode through Old Town in a horse carriage. Here we are: