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Yes, I disappeared again. It was a heck of a few months sorting out what turned out to be a nightmarish move from Austin back to Denver. While I miss my Austin life and friends dearly, it’s great to be back in the “Sunshine State.” I’ll bring you up to speed on a few things, good and bad, and then we’ll just move forward like nothing ever happened.

Bad: Goodbye lakes

Great: Hello Mountains

Bad: Stepping into my future home to realize it was unlivable and my management company hadn’t taken care of it the last four years. (Real Property Management of Colorado)

Great: Waging a negative PR campaign against the bastards and realizing there is a market out there for “Revenge PR.”

Bad: Not having a home to move into when I arrived in Denver.

Great: Having the greatest friends in the world who gave me their basement and their brewery (ah, to wake up to the smell of hops each morning) to stay in while I repaired my home.

Bad: Leaving behind my chauffeur ants in Austin.

Great/ bad: Moving into my Denver home to realize I have squirrels and flies I can train to take their place. (For the flies, I have learned that spraying them with professional strength Mr. Clean bathroom cleaner, then grabbing them with a napkin is way better than smooshing their guts on your window. Plus, it cleans the window. Bonus.)

My new trainees

Bad: Leaving behind my Austin porch family.

Great: Gaining the horseshoe hoodlums (a group of daily drunks that put in a horseshoe pit between the sidewalk and the street. Each day they open the side door of their mini-van to provide music for the game of skill.) in my front yard and the homeless people who sleep in my backyard. At least they take my garbage out for me and dispose of their malt liquor bottles in the appropriate containers.

Bad: Leaving behind my Titos adoring friends in Austin.

The Tito's Sunday Funday Crew

Good: Rejoining my beer loving friends in Denver.

Bad: Leaving behind the live music capital of the world.

Great: Coming to find Denver now has a happening music scene.

Bad: Sabotaged yet another relationship.

Great: Got stellar advice from the greatest sister in the world: “You deserve someone that says ‘I cannot believe this amazing woman is available to me. I’m going to do whatever I can to make her mine before someone else does!’” Word, Michelle. Word.

Bad: Worst. Movers. In. The. World. I’ll spare the extended details for now, but the first thing they said when arriving at my place is, “Where do the homeless people hang out looking for work in Austin? We need a few more guys to move your stuff.” (Jet Van Lines)

Great: Another use case for “Revenge PR.”

Bad: Dad getting kicked out of the Brown’s game because a flask fell out of his sleeve during security check.

Great: Dad getting back into the game using another gate…flask and liquid inside intact! Brownies Win!

Cheering on the Browns!

Bad: My furnace blows a ¼ inch layer of dirt throughout my house daily.

Great: Perfect timing for my Dyson Christmas gift from my parents.

Bad: Gaining 10 lbs during the chaos of the last few months.

Great: Winter Clothes.

I’m sure there are many more I will recall over time, but for now I’d like to see if I can top the great year that 2010 turned out to be by focusing on crushing it in 2011! Happy New Year everyone!

Oh, and one more thing… I found a bird in my house. How ironic, given my lifetime love/hate relationship with the creatures. I was dozing off on my couch when something flew into the room. It was a red breasted robin, standing in the middle of my floor and staring at me with its beady eye. I opened my front door and pleaded with it to leave, but it just kept walking around. It sat on my couch for a bit, then headed over to my desk and checked on my work. I’m of course FREAKING out but he is just looking at me as if to say, “Do I really have to go?” Eventually he just sighed and gave in, slowly swaggering out my front door to the porch (Yes, I do believe birds can swagger). For a short second, I almost felt like asking him to come back in and hang out, then I wigged myself out about how the hell it got there and what other animals I was co-habitating with and headed over to sleep on Brie’s couch.

I’m still living in fear of waking up in the apartment of Ace Ventura, but alas, what would my life (and this blog) be if it weren’t for the drama!

Yes, I’ve been slacking. Partially due to the great Mac meltdown of 2010 that occured the day I got into Denver last week and partially because the technology fail forced me to remember that unplugging and being fully absorbed in the moment without one hand feverishly plugging away at the iphone or keyboard is sometimes really nice.

Unfortunately, for those of you anxiously awaiting an update on the great wedding dating experiment, I got nothin. I got into town and quickly realized that catching up with and hanging out with old friends is something I’ll take any day over playing dating roulette with the single folks at a wedding.

What I did confirm in the last week is that baseball games and amusement parks are prime breeding grounds for dousche beacons. Where do these folks come from??

We took in an afternoon baseball game at Coors Field on Sunday. The plan was to grab lunch and a few beers, hit the game, then find some trouble for the evening. …and that is what we did, but there were a few curve balls along the way. First, we went to a favorite downtown Denver drinking establishment, the Falling Rock Tap House. I kept pointing to beers I was going to order and Erik kept cautioning me against them because of their high alcohol content. After all, it would be a long day (I opted not to brag about my marathon drinking abilities, as I have learned that this doesn’t necessarily impress people…and I also learned that back at high altitudes, my abilities are severely comprimised). Ultimately Brie and I let a friend from the bar choose our beers and ironically he brought us the beer on tap with the highest alcohol content. That set us off at a good clip.

Ruphie Beer

At the game we took our places in the coveted seats along the third-base line and settled in for some beer and baseball fun…along with people watching. On 4th of July there are always some extra special outfits.

I will be the first to admit… there were probably some people that were “people watching” us too. Afterall, we are pretty freaking cool… that and Andy likes to yell things like, “Win this one for America, Helton!” (He was the first one out of the gate that day, if you know what I mean).

Happy Fourth

After the 7th inning stretch, everyone starts to get a little antsy. It’s when they stop serving beer, so you just hope for a quick two innings to maintain the happy feeling. Little did we know that this game would go on as many innings sans beer as with the tasty beveridge. We had the cute kids in front of us to entertain us for about 10 minutes, but the game ended up being the longest game in the history of Coors field. Yes, we are talking about sitting in a baseball stadium for 5 hours and 24 minutes. I can drive from Austin to Houston and back in that amount of time. Thank God we started with the Ruphie beer, so we were able to ride it out longer than usual. Brie and I finally bailed at the 14th inning to drink Jameson while the guys saw the last inning through. I’m pretty sure our departure is what finally pushed the Rockies to put up a W in the 15th.

The kid we briefly adopted in the 10th inning

 I could go into detail on all the other Denver adventures, but in the interest of being brief and with a somewhat “what happens off the grid, stays off the grid” aire, I’ll just say they included:

  • me agreeing to be shot in the air by a sling shot while strapped inside a giant metal hamster ball
  • impromtu homemade toga making contest
  • a gorilla suit
  • three unfinished games of yahtzee
  • a pedicure that might last until my next birthday
  • watching two rich Asian dudes suck down a magnum of sake and 3 big bottles of champagne
  • several fantastic meals (I didn’t even know I liked brussel sprouts)
  • and so as not to disappoint you with a whole week without incident, I did stick my head into an operating ceiling fan (not under the influence). Only a tiny cut resulted. Could have been worse. Could have lost a head or been swooped up with the nastiest of hair tangles.

Not too shabby for a trip that started out with me missing a plane (don’t ask me how I feel about the Southwest boarding process) and running through Pheonix with 7 bloody toes.

The Hamster Ball

 Am now back in soggy Austin, playing the new records I brought back from Twist and Shout and unsuccessfully attempting to complete the Mac data recovery process (and my own data recovery process).

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