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About Me

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Denver, CO, United States
Adventurer, wanderer, explorer extraordinaire. I love travel, yoga, photography, and cooking. I often pretend like I'm crafty, have a black rescue cat. This is the chronicling of my life from recent college grad with a degree in my pocket (with honors, thank you very much) and no immediate job prospects on the horizon--That little tidbit could be due to the fact that my boyfriend and I recently decided one day over cereal, "Hey! You know what would be a good idea? How about we uproot our stable lives, quit our jobs and move to Denver?!" And so we did. Just like that. We left the comfort of our 1100sq ft home and all our friends, ceremoniously quit our jobs and hit the road. One U-Haul, two cars, and one storage unit later, here we are! Livin' the dream in a cousin's basement and trolling the interwebs for employment in search for a better life in the Mile High City--To present day where we are living the dream in West Wash Park and planning our wedding after 3 wonderful and eventful years, in the 303.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

St. Patrick's Day Shenanigans

We decided to start our first St. Patrick's Day in Denver off in style, and nothing is as grand as a spot atop the Jameson float in the big parade! What better way to celebrate my heritage than to holler drunkenly from atop the beauty of a flatbed Ford while brandishing an abnormally large bottle of my country's finest libidinal export? We started off the morning at the ass crack of dawn like true champions, running on wee hours of sleep. It was all very exciting at the beginning-I standing there with the early morning wind in my hair, clad in my finest greenery, on the prow of the platform being serenaded by bagpipes as visions of rolling green hills and Riverdancers pranced in my head. Flash forward an hour and a half later. After being lectured extensively about the proper protocol for handing your enraptured crowd candy (under NO circumstances is throwing or tossing allowed, lest your aim mislead you and leave a child with a black eye and a dented box of Nerds) we set off to seek our glory! Needless to say, drinking copious amounts of cheap green beer while you are carted down Blake St. in front of hundreds of adoring onlookers, there comes a need for certain...facilities...that can be rather hard to come by. I watched at stop light after stop light as the lines for Port-a-Potty's rolled out before me, strategically assessing their location and the merits of explaining that I deserved to cut to the front of the line because, really people, I have a float to be on! However, such was not to be. This resulted in me hurriedly ejecting myself from the float at the next nearest available red light and paying the $10 cover charge to run, nay, sprint faster than the speed of a Leprechaun, into the restrooms at the Celtic Tavern. So consumed was I with my mission, that I shoved the crumpled up $10 into the lass's green solo cup clad beverage by the register, not stopping to apologize. Why hadn't I jumped ship and gotten on the Dubliner's Cheese float?! At lest they had the sense to have their own Port-a-Potty on board, adding a very functional touch to their farm scene tableau. While my expectations of "the Largest St. Patrick's Day parade West of the Mississippi" were somewhat dashed -I had imagined Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade but with more green and gold- there were, and this is the technical term, a "Fuckton" of people (not all of whom I suspect were actually Irish). It was an eventful way to ring in our first heritage holiday in our new hometown! We came, we saw, we...had corned beef and car bombs and it is a day that I'm sure I, nor my near ruptured bladder and sore liver, will soon forget.