I'm thinking of retitling this blog "Never A Dull Moment." That seems to be a fitting title for my life lately. I'm writing this in the Denver International Airport, where I'm waiting for the next 4 and a half hours for a stand-by flight. I missed my flight to San Francisco for my friend Anna's wedding. The wedding isn't until tomorrow, but I'm a bridesmaid and I was supposed to fly in early enough for the rehearsal dinner. Well, thanks to falling back asleep (for an HOUR) after my alarm, and leaving a lot of packing for the morning because I was going to get up early and do it, and underestimating travel time to the airport, and the parking lot being full and my inability to read signs (I bet I'm the only person who could get lost in an airport), I just missed my flight. I think I could have made it if I had run, but they wouldn't let me try at check-in. They put me on stand-by for this evening, which means, assumoing I can get on that flight (please!!), I'll be landing in the middle of the rehearsal dinner. It also means that instead of getting there in time to help Anna with last-minute details, I've become a stressful last-minute detail myself. I wouldn't mind if it were weather or something like that I couldn't help, but the fact that I did it to myself just makes me so mad. Well, now at least I get to ride the BART, something I've wanted to do ever since I read about in a book my mom had about a girl named Donna. Grrr.

Jogging

To anyone who still reads this, thanks. I haven't died or lost my computer, I just haven't had a lot that I've felt like posting lately. It's been a pretty rough transition to Denver for several reasons, and to be honest, I've had some dark moments. I still don't really want to post about that--I haven't even really processed it because I don't want to go back to those times, even in memory. Sometime I will, but not now. There's actually a ton of material about my job and the homies. My roommate's boyfriend came up with that name for the residents, because they live in a home, and I like it.

But anyway, I signed on to post about something funny that happened to me while I was out for a run today. There are some great trails down by the Platte River where you can see the mountains. Right now there are a ton of wildflowers and it's really beautiful. Anyway, I had done the loop to Prince Street, and I was almost back to the parking lot--I just had to cross the bridge. I started getting closer to the bridge and realized that the section of the path right before it was roped off with caution tape. There was a man and a woman with an awning/tent thing set up and they had boxes of something on the grass and on their table. It was really odd, and I didn't want to do the entire loop again, so I tried to sneak around behind the trees. The guy saw me and said, "Whoa! Excuse me, ma'am! We have this caution tape up so people won't come back here." I said, "Sorry, I just need to cross the bridge to get to my car," and he said, "Next time please go around. We don't anyone to get hurt--these are explosives." ??? First of all, why do they have explosives? Second, why work with them in a carnival booth on the bike trails by the Platte? Third, if you must, why not pick a place on the grass instead of roping off a very popular, heavily trafficked path? None of this makes any sense to me. And what kind of explosives could these be? Fireworks? Then why not say fireworks?

I will say one thing: as difficult as life in Denver has been, it has never, not for one second, been dull.