Huh...

As I flew away a week ago today, I was struck by million different thoughts, but what was funny was that none of them were of any consequence. The night ahead with a good friend, a glass of red wine, some quiet time. None of these thoughts pertain to the endeavor ahead or the challenges to be faced. I can't approach these with anything but supreme confidence, not out of necessity or cockiness, but out of subconscious certainty. Maybe that sounds naive or even unemotional (at the very least cocky), but I guess I feel proud of my ability to adhere this perspective despite recognition of it. In a rare moment of chaotic clarity, I have decided to take my notorious "what's the worst that can happen?" philosophy and apply it to my more adventurous side. Until this moment, I have been on the positive side of resigned. Not to say that I am unfeeling, but once I decided to change my life and it's path, the rest was easy. No task too large or daunting enough; the hard part was taken care of. As much as somethings don't seem real, neither does Denver and - happily - I have little choice or opportunity to change my mind. This could be my modern Ellis Island. Instead of political asylum or escape from lack of food or oppression, I'm affording myself and escape from the doldrums and lack of color. It's not the Irish Potato Famine or genocide, but I'll take it.

I can see where I should be freaked out. I'm not. My foolishness apparent.

A good deal of family helped me pack and move nearly nineteen years of family memorabilia out of my childhood home in the last two days. Either I am more adaptable than I give myself credit for or I am too idealistic about how easy this move is going to be, but either way, I'm still ready (sore and exhausted, but ready). It took a much bigger uhaul to carry my things to storage (7 boxes, a bed, a chair and an ottoman) and my things that will be sold over the next few days (too much to even count - does anybody need a duvet or an old Britney Spears cd?).

But random "after two days of grueling manual labor" thought: is it totally egotistical to write a blog in the first place? I am actually a little bashful (albeit I am usually self-deprecating and am not showing a huge deviation from the norm) at the idea of someone besides my mother read what I am up to daily. Well, today, we drove, we worked hard and I sat in hot water in the hopes that my back doesn't feel like Tito Ortiz kicked my ass tomorrow.