It's Friday

It's Friday and everyone at the Bayfield, Colorado fire department, where I am the receptionist for the summer, is gone; it's just me and the IT guy. Having done everything I can to keep myself occupied up until a couple hours ago, I've begun going through some more of the photos from our road trip. If you don't keep up with these things then they just become overwhelming. I've gone through all the photos I took when we went to the Auburn-Deusenberg-Cord Museum and the Ford Museum. Oh my goodness, and I've just merely scratched the surface.

I Got A Job!

I finally got a job!  I started today at Specs Eyecare, a small eyewear boutique in Durham, NC.  I got a huge crash course in optometry today and after 8 hours of trying to understand spherical and cylindrical lens measurements and prescription notations my brain is total mush.  However, after I get it all down I think I'll really like working there.  And damn, it feels nice to have a job again and not worry about our dwindling bank account for a minute...cuz now it's increasing once again.  Yay incoming gas money!
Photo via SALT. Optics

Our Date In Denver

It’s been a while since Conner and I have had a proper date. The last hurrah was the night before we left Austin and we went to our favorite restaurant, Justine’s; reasonable prices for delicious French food and an amazing atmosphere. That was over three months ago. I love dates. I don’t care if I spend every minute of the day with Conner, I still need a date every once in a while. There’s an unspoken “date etiquette” that occurs where both parties make an effort at being charming and engaging, and to reignite the ‘come hither’ flame once again. Dates are essential.

So he and I ventured into downtown Denver for a proper date. Denver is a relatively new city and therefore, rather shiny and clean without much history. I love history so all I can say about Denver is that it’s nice; easy to drive around, easy to navigate, easy to find a cheap place for a drink. The main pedestrian area is the 16th Street Mall; several blocks long with street musicians, shops, and restaurants. A lot of it feels like a strip mall with chain after chain, but there are pianos dotted along the center of the walkway that makes it feel more charming.

As we were looking for a place to eat we ran into this guy, who’s shtick was to serenade me and if I liked it then Conner was to give him some money. He even gave Conner some tips on how to make the shtick work just in case we needed some more gas money along the way and Conner was feeling up to a cappella singing. So Darien proceeded to sing me a song about showering together, lathering up and down, etc, etc. He had a nice voice, but nonetheless it was a little embarrassing.

To top the evening off we strolled back down the road and watched some punk kids playing excellent jazz music.

And saw a spray paint art demonstration. Why is it that from Austin to Denver, spray paint art is all the same? There’s always a boom box playing electronic music and the theme is always celestial paintings.

We ended up not going, but there’s a vodka bar off of Writer’s Square called, The Red Square. They infuse their own vodka with flavors like ginger, beet, and red pepper. Apparently it’s pretty great, but to end your night there, not begin there because you’ll be on your face before you really even get started. The one Jena told us to try was the garlic infused vodka—“when you burp it tastes like a whole meal. Dude, it’s awesome.”

Wake Surfing On Navajo Lake

In the last week we’ve had more time to experience the finer things in Arboles life instead of just busting ass on Breathless—like boating.  Quick history lesson about the Navajo Lake:

For years four small towns—Tiffany, Allison, Rosa, and Arboles—lay in the basin of the Pine River Valley.  Then the government decided to damn up the pre-existing lake and flood the valley to store more water for irrigation purposes..  All of the little towns had to relocate to the bluffs above the lake and archaeologists went to work to excavate all the old Indian ruins and grave sites.  So now the lake is over 38 miles long and all the little towns are in new locations.

We went out on Andy and Lauren’s boat to try our hand at wake surfing.  It’s kind of like wakeboarding, in that you get up out of the water the same way, but then when you are up on the board you surf the wake close to the boat.  It’s tricky enough so that when you finally get it you feel like a bit of a bad-ass, but easy enough that you can get it in a day.  We spent all day out on that boat listening to the only two cds that would work in the stereo—Willie Nelson and Macy Grey.  And of course, a couple days later I’m still totally sore.

Yesterday I stole away to have a girl’s boating trip with Laura Walton and her niece while the boys went to do some recording with their old band 6 Cents.  They should have some audio soon and I’ll post it up.  On the boat Laura, Keely, and I did some tubing and some fishing.  I learned that as an adult it’s best not to sit butt down in the tube like a little kid.  While they’re slinging you all around the water and your butt is just stuck right down there, it’s the most thorough non-professional enema ever.  Word to the wise: lay on top of the tube, stomach down.  Haha, cleansing aside, it was a blast!  Especially when it was topped off with dinner and steamy stories from Laura’s party days…being an extra in a film with Poison’s Brett Michaels and Wayne Newton and getting rescued from Brett’s advances by cheeseburgers in Wayne’s trailer…

Map via Rizuto's  
Photo via American Southwest

Stress Test

About a year ago my mom handed me Julie and Julia with a quick, "I thought this might help you, you know, figure a couple things out about your life."  In much the same way she handed me Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert when I went home this past week.

It's no secret that I want to get married.  And more specifically I want to marry Conner.  So when mom handed me Committed it was her way of saying, "Baby, I thought this might help you figure a couple things out about you know, your future life."  The book is both about a woman coming to grips with getting married a second time--even when the first totally bit her in the ass--as well as a history lesson about western-style marriage.

Through that book I learned about the Holmes-Rahe stress scale.  Two psychiatrists back in the 70's surveyed 5,000 patients and came up with a list of stresses and attributed a point value to each event.  If a patient scores 300 or more than whoa buddy, you're at serious risk for illness.
1. Death of a spouse=100
2. Divorce=73
3. Imprisonment= 63
7. Marriage= 50
10. Retirement= 45
12. Pregnancy= 40
41. Vacation= 13
42. Christmas= 12
43. Minor violation of law= 11

How interesting is that?  The three of us would probably rank pretty high on that scale at the moment but hey, maybe we get a little deduction for encountering all this stress on account of something we all love.
The full list can be found on Wikipedia.
Photograph via Green Wedding Shoes

Thoughts On Flying

There was a time when my divorced parents began earning more capital than ever before.  This was also around the time that they became exhausted of driving me back and forth across the state to see my father once a month.  So they sent 8 year old me on a plane from Asheville to Raleigh with an "Unaccompanied Minor" badge around my neck and off I went to visit my dad for the weekend.  Up in the air, in between both towns was the best, was the best as I belonged to no one and it was just me and the clouds.  There was added bonus of peanuts, ginger ale, and pretty ladies asking what adventures I had planned for the summer that made flying an absolute pleasure.

Now that 911 happened, it's not that much fun at all.  In fact, most people seem to just go ahead and furrow their brows as they pass through the security gates ready for delayed flights, noisy babies, and peanuts for which you now have to pay.  But the people watching is still excellent, and there is still the exciting prospect of new glossy magazines, and if you have the money you can grab a burger and a beer while you wait for your flight which has already been delayed three times. 

The number one thing that inevitably goes through my head when I fly is of a Wired magazine cover I saw several years ago.  It showed a very dashing photo of Brad Pitt wearing a BlueTooth earpiece with the headline, “If Brad Pitt can’t make this look sexy then who can?”  (It's in the small print.)  As I watch all the paunch-bellied businessmen clutching their briefcase and rushing to their gate, while seemingly talking to themselves with their earpieces, I really want to show them this magazine cover.  Sometimes people just never grow out of their awkward phase.

Stupid Avis

Oh man, the journey back to Arboles, CO was miserable.  It was like a small comedy of errors.  First with the missed flight and to end with my first experience with renting a car.  The cheapest flight we could find arrived in Albuquerque, which according to Google Maps was 4.5 hours away.  I felt really bad making the boys drive 9 hours just to come fetch me so I rented a car.  I had gone on Priceline and reserved the cheapest car for a total of $35 which seemed preposterous to everyone else in the house because usually their way more expensive.  Anyway, long story short, I hate renting cars.

I got hoodwinked!  I showed the agent my reservation and then he upgraded me without my knowledge, convinced me to prepay for gas, and then made highly disapproving faces when I declined all insurance.  When I returned the car in Durango the other agent pointed out the upgrade.  All of the Avis customer service people suck.  Both people I talked to simply said I should have known it was a bigger car before I left the lot.  Ugh!  Yeah, I should of but never having rented a car before I didn't know what to keep an eye out for.  And word to this wise--avoid the pre-paid gas tank.  Even if you only use a 1/2 tank they still charge you for it.  Not worth it.  Stupid Avis....avoid Avis I say!

Here ends my diatribe.

Making It Back

Today's the day!  The day I actually catch a plane back to Colorado. 

Mom came in asking me to check the status my flight yesterday.  I looked it up and with nasty Crest Whitestrips all in my mouth and asked her, "Wait. What does that say?  Can you read that date?" 
"It says 6/15-June 15th'
"Yeah, and what date is it today?!"
Which is the exact moment that I knew I had royally messed up and that the amount of teasing I would be soon getting from my family would probably be worse than plopping down more money for a new ticket.

I called Priceline.  I called United Air.  I called Priceline again, all the while trying to sound as pitiful as humanly possible.  But no, no such luck with the pity department because I had "Named My Own Price" for a ticket, it was non-negotiable if I fucked something up.  My parents are moving to New Mexico next Tuesday and we talked about me hitching a ride in their U-Haul caravan...this is driving across the country with a Dalmatian, a parrot, and two adults who "passionately discuss" (ie. argue) about everything under the sun.  I was all for it since it would probably be the cheapest option, I love my parents, and I figured I might as well get used to being in a car.  But my step-father was super sweet and got me a new one-way ticket back to Colorado...going home always turns me back into the spacey teenager I once was.

Thanks Mom and Ely for taking care of me...
Gordon Osmundson Photograph

Today I'm An Idiot

I'm an idiot and I missed my flight back to Colorado.  I thought I was flying back today, Thursday, but nope, my flight was Tuesday and I just didn't realize it.  I called Priceline, where I had booked my name-your-own price ticket, and they wouldn't budge from their no-refund policy and United Air wouldn't help fix my blunder either.  So today I'm an idiot.

Flying Home

I'm flying back home to North Carolina today to stay for the next two weeks.  My brilliant younger sister Molly is graduating from high school and because I miss most of her big life events, it was mandatory that I attend this one.

I'm flying out of Durango, to Denver, to Chicago, and finally to Charlotte at midnight.  Since Charlotte's still two hours away from home, Mom is coming in the morning to drive my butt back to Asheville.  She wanted me to get a hotel room for the night, but I'm stubborn and would rather spend what money I saved for this trip from my tax refund on say, a hair cut instead of a hotel room.  So I'll be spending the night in the airport--an excellent way to save money on accommodations only if you're a glutton for the most uncomfortable sleep you've ever experienced or again, you're just plain stubborn.

The promise of a night's stay in the airport makes the inevitable flight delays much more tolerable because I'm not chomping at the bit to have already arrived somewhere else; I'm perfectly content to hang out in the Durango terminal reading my sexy vampire book as I would be in Charlotte doing the same thing for the next 12 hours.  The only thing against being stuck in the tiny Durango airport for another 3 hours is that they don't have any magazines for purchase.  That's one of the few remaining joys of airplane travel=the plethora of glossy magazines.  The little old lady in charge of the gift shop filled with blankets, stained glass, mugs, and fake deer antlers said that they simply don't deliver magazines anymore.  Makes me want to pull some sort of Bear Grease stunt on the magazine delivery truck.

Matching Silver

In the midst of Melody showing me family photos she showed me a large leather-bound collection of her and Denny’s wedding photos. Both of their siblings eloped which cause their parents to require a grand event for Denny and Melody’s nuptials.

 Check out those Buddy Holly glasses. Pure love.

One of the things that caught my eye was Mamma Finn because of her amazing hairdo. Apparently in accordance with the traditional 25-anniversary symbol of silver, Pappa Finn got her a silver Cadillac convertible. Being a lady of immense style, she promptly went to the beauty salon and got her hair dyed silver to match her new automobile. She also bought a silver mink stole to complete the picture. For the rest of her life she had a silver beehive that she wrapped in toilet paper every night to keep it in tact while she slept.

I really wish I could have met this woman.

Children

Conner and Dan would probably faint if they knew I was writing this down for all to read although they’ll probably never read this anyhow.  So here goes.  At my fervent requests their mom, Melody, has been showing me old family photos.

The boys are hands-down the cutest little kids ever.  Seeing them makes me want to have kids because damn, why let those gorgeous genes go to waste?  I mean, just look at ‘em!

 Speaking of children, I’ve noticed that people grow up fast around these parts.  So many of our friends back in Austin aren’t married and don’t even have kids on the brain.  Most of us are trying to figure out what to do with our lives and find a way to have both happy-hour and health insurance at the same time.  For heaven’s sake, only one of my friends have even gotten married and she only had a small, family-only kind of ceremony.  But here in southern Colorado I’ve met those who’ve been married and divorced by 25, divorced with two kids by 27, and married with kids and owning their own home.

Despite my desire to not let the Finn genes go to waste, the thought of Conner and I having kids within the next 10 years seems completely implausible.  We just have too many plans already that don’t involve children.

I should probably not go too overboard with show-and-tell so that it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass once we swing through North Carolina to see my family and all the awkward pictures start flying about.

Naked Women On Walls

The shop that we’ve been working in, this is their wall…

I hear it’s shrunken in size recently because one of their more straight-laced clients came through the shop and was shocked by the Tahitian Beauty calendars hanging up (ie. naked women in the water; one warm beauty for each of the cold and snowy months up here in Colorado).  One of the owners came in the next day and had the boys remove all their collected Beauties.  The funny thing is that the calendars were sent to the shop by another client who lives in Aspen but who is originally from Tahiti.  He goes back once a year and brings home a calendar for the boys to add to their wall…well, he used to at least. 

Amongst what remains of the wall there’s a newspaper clipping from when C and D won their second Battle Of The Bands with their old band, 6 Cents.  They look so young!

Running Out

Nick Mogden and Conner

I never expected this undertaking to be easy.  I expected that it would throw me into lots of situations where I was outside of my comfort zone, force us to all be creative and resourceful, and I looked forward to spend lots of frustrating hours trying to figure out how to edit footage for short online videos.

It's almost the end of May and despite our best efforts we're still not done with the car and we've nearly run out of all the money we saved up before leaving Austin.  And we still haven't even gotten on the road.  How depressing is that?

I heard the boys bemoaning our states of affairs late Saturday night after I had already gone to bed.  The next day we were all the biggest sad saps ever.  So now we're brainstorming ways to make money to keep this thing going because come hell or high water we've damn well finishing this project despite the obstacles...even if we have to push the damn car across the country because we don't have enough gas money.

If anyone has ideas on how to make gas money as we go...please do holler.

Punctured Lungs

The other day I had a dream that I fell and cracked a rib that punctured a lung.  The ambulance came and I kept waving them away saying, “No!  I don’t have insurance!”  Apparently I’m a little paranoid about not having insurance.

Surface injuries I’m not worried about on account of C & D because of an incident that happened Christmas 2006.  They were living outside of Austin with the other two members of their now defunct band, Liquid Revolution.  They had begun partying on Christmas Eve and promptly drank through all their booze that night.  Already pretty toasted Dan and their guitarist, Gavin, decided to run to the gas station for more beer before it closed for Xmas day.  With Dan riding his BMX bike, and Gavin on his skateboard, they filled their backpacks up to the brim.  For some reason, on the ride back Dan ended crashing his bike and instead of falling on his back and crushing all the beer cans, he flipped over and fell flat on his chin.  He split his chin pretty good and Conner ended up sewing him up with 10 lbs fishing line and big old needle they had at the house.  Surprisingly enough for a wasted pseudo-surgeon, Conner sewed Dan up damn well and it didn’t leave a bad scar at all. 

This is precisely why I’m not worried about cutting myself.  It’s the broken bones and punctured lungs that I lose sleep over.

The Art Of Taking Off

As we were gearing up in Austin for the trip, we seemed to get two reactions about this endeavor.  The most common response was, “Wow, that sounds awesome!  Good luck with that.  Wish I could go traveling like that…”  I really wanted to say, “Well, let me tell you how: You decide on a date.  Start saving and don’t make plans that extend past that date so there are no excuses for backing out.  Oh, and watch SurfWise and read Vagabonding, those will help too.”

I think that not making long-term plans was the hardest thing for me.  Whenever I would get stressed out that we weren’t saving enough money, I would look in the employment ads.  That was just a waste of time though because I didn’t want to apply for some kick-ass job that would be an excuse for flaking out on the trip.  I also told everyone I knew about this thing in an attempt to make sure I followed through; one of the things I absolutely hate to do is explain why I flaked out on something…the more people I tell, I figure, the more pressure I put on myself to follow through.

The least frequent response—usually given by well-meaning family members—would be, “Why are you doing that?  What about your careers?  Why just put everything on hold while you go gallivanting around?”  But right now seems like the best time to do this sort of thing since none of us had any real responsibilities, nor anything that we couldn’t easily reclaim in a year. 

It seems like there are several people doing some epic adventure at the moment.  The other day Dan and I went into Durango for some errands and we ran into this behemoth of a vehicle at the gas station.  The guy said that he and his wife were driving around the world in this huge thing.  They started in Michigan and we’re driving south to the tip of South America to take a ferry across to South Africa; the ferry ride alone would take them several weeks.  They are keeping up a blog called EcoRoamer.

Kurt from EcoRoamer

Another friend of a friend, Charlie Faye, is traveling across the US for a year doing a music project in which she’s creating a new band in 10 different cities.  I don’t believe she has a blog in order to keep up with her, but she is planning to record an entire album out of her travels.

Apparently, now is the time to travel… 

Brew Time

C and D’s older brother Josh, who has to be one of the nicest and most patient people ever, has been totally re-hauling the ’54 to get it road worthy ever since the Finn family was able to dig it out of the Colorado snow. Josh has taken the whole frame apart and painted it, put in a new drive shaft, and even took the engine and the gas tank from a ’97 Suburban and stuck in the ’54 so we won’t have to fill it up that often.

 Conner and Josh

At one point or another the whole family has worked for the San Juan Timberwrights carpentry shop making timber frame houses.  Luckily the owners, Tammy & Mike, are super cool and have let us all use their shop to work on the car.  We came up this month to help finish it and then get on the road to Taos.  I’ll eventually help reupholster the interior but in the meantime I just crash in on bro-time a lot and hang out. 

Speaking of bro-time: evidently the San Juan Timberwrights is a large part of the Arboles community and every day at 4:30pm the shop shuts down and they all have “brew-time”.  Men come out of the woodwork to have a cold beer from the Durango Ska brewery and shoot the shit for a minute.  It seems such a romantic aspect of small town life to me since we never did that back home, and it happens every day like clockwork.

L to R: Brian, Jesse, Josh, Dan, Denny, and Conner

The beer comes out of a “kegerator”—a freaking brilliant idea!  They modified an old fridge to accommodate a keg and they attached a tap to the side for easy access refills.  Beer mugs are kept iced in the freezer and every month they all chip in and get a new keg.  Brilliant, I do say.

First Stop: Arboles, CO

After a 20-hour drive completed in 2 days, we’ve arrived in Arboles, Colorado-population 289: 157 males/132 females, a population density 55 people per sq mile, and no registered sex offenders.

I’ve experienced culture shock before but it’s always been in some foreign country where I don’t speak the language.  It’s never happened in the States before but in the first couple days I felt it in full force. 

Conner and Dan had described where they’re from a hundred times but honestly, I thought they were just being dramatic.  Arboles is very small and very spread out.  There are no stoplights, the closest grocery store is 20 miles away, and there is one convenience store and one bar in town; the bar used to be their old house that was renovated into the new business.  Serious culture shock.

Not to mention being thrown into living with Conner, my boyfriend’s parents.  They’re absolutely wonderful and totally sweet—they even lent us their bedroom to sleep in while we’re here which I still feel both immensely grateful and rather bad about—but during the period while I’m getting comfortable with everyone, it’s all a little intimidating.  

Feeling Anxious

We leave Austin in 2 days.  I seem to have had a minor freak-out session in increments of 2.  At 2 months I worried about where we were going to shower and do laundry.  At 2 weeks I stressed about how we were going to make money and survive on the road for an entire year without killing each other.  Now it's down to 2 days and I'm concerned about being bored.

I usually have multiple jobs, several projects, and lots of social time going on at once.  The hectic lifestyle energizes me instead of feeling overwhelming; being still is something I have to consciously work on.  When Conner and I met up in Greece this past summer after Kat and I had gone on a two month cycling trip through Europe, he was perfectly content to relax all day at the beach.  This was Greece with some of the best beaches ever!  I tried really hard to do the same but I kept getting antsy and requiring that we scale the rocky coastline like goats or hiking up the service road to the top of the island to find--absolutely nothing.  But it was the pure physical activity of it all that kept my sanity in check...which is why we're all bringing our bicycles and I'm bringing running shoes. 

SXSW 2010!

It's only the second day of the official SXSW music fest and we've already lost one of our party to the croup and the rest of us are struggling along trying to rally the troops each night.  Although, in all honesty, we did start last Sunday at the annual Austin Kite Fest in Zilker Park.