On the acquisition of "things"

It's been 8 months since I last wrote something. My how things have changed!

The old proverb "a rolling stone gathers no moss" has particular poignancy here. Over the last few years I've written about -- what I can now call in retrospect -- incidents of incredible growth and soul searching...plus a lot of moving around. Literally.

Now I can proudly say that the journey that I set out on is complete. Well, more in the sense that now I plan to stay put in one place for a bit, so that concept of "home" is a little more concrete. That journey hasn't actually ended though. It's just begun!

This time there are a few more things that were acquired along the way.

The first? Well, one obvious item of note would be a partner in crime. For life. Some would call it a fiancé but the pretentiousness of that word doesn't quite apply to Bret nor to me (if you know us, you'd agree). It's not because of the implied "transitional-term-for-a-committed-relationship-that's-now-to-become-a-life-sentence" sort of thing. No way! It's the fact that nothing comes close to describing this beautiful journey that started out solo and happened to wind up with that needle in a haystack of a person who somehow, unexpectedly, appreciates all the good, bad and ugly of who I am, no questions asked. It's sooooo good. And I had no idea it'd be this fun.

Who couldn't love this spazoid?

Another thing acquired? A job. A dream job, actually. There really are such things. Yes, it really does take hard work and patience and knowing the right people at the right time. I did it and I'm so thankful for all of the muck and uncertainty in between because it made it all worth it. To quote a previous rambling from a few years past, "It's not the destination but the journey... right?"

What else has been acquired? Things. Like, I mean, actual, physical, paid-for things. For so long I've been a big proponent of purging one's life of clothes, knick-knacks, books, furniture, leases, anything that's representative of the things that tie you down. A lot of people in their 20s would agree with that, I think. But now that a job and partner and place to call home are more defined (hello, 30s!), all of a sudden I find that these "things" aren't actually all that bad. They're just a function of where you are in life. They don't have to define who you are. And they can easily be cast off for the next impromptu brewery road trip from the back of a truck someday. Maybe next time there'll be kids and a camper in tow. :) 

One thing that's worth bitching about is something I didn't mean to acquire as of late: an emergency room bill to the tune of $1,200+ after dropping Bret's lizard cage on my knee. It happened the night we arrived from Portland to move Bret into our new home in Cheyenne. Seven measly stitches spelled multiple bills that I'm still paying off, even under the umbrella of supposed health insurance. Go figure. 

Screw you, Cigna! Your insurance plans don't cover shit!

And finally...I'm so proud to say I've acquired much-needed reconnections with the ones who matter in life. The friends and family who -- like the quote I used when starting this blog -- make up the bricks and build the shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go. I'll admit that the transition to Cheyenne has been a bit lonely (more so before Bret quit his job and moved out here to be with me). But leading up to it all I had the chance to reconnect with good friends who mean the world to me. One goes as far back as high school. I've also had the chance to spend good quality time with my dear family. Not to mention chances to see close friends from college and others from the days in California who also escaped the San Francisco nonsense. 

These are people who've made every ounce of the journey worth it. I'm so thankful to continue to have them surround me with love and laughter. Without them, life wouldn't be nearly as sweet! 

This girl and I go all the way back to Student Council our freshman year of high school.

Who would've thought that Rotary would connect us in San Francisco and ultimately wind us up in the Buckhorn Bar in Laramie, WY?

My sister from another mother who happens to speak some Mexican.

The reason why I am here in this world.

There are no words for how much this woman means to me. You are my soulmate, Liz!

My brother, in his element.

The love of my life.

Let's just say working with this guy has made it all...interesting.

The first (and only) food blog post

When the "f"unemployed mind searches for things with which to amuse itself, I'll admit: cooking and baking have become an obsession as of late. There's something supremely satisfying about figuring out budget friendly recipes that don't get repetitive.

My proudest concoction? Homemade chicken stock from leftover rotisserie chicken bones and winter vegetables. I've used it for chicken noodle soup as well as a base for a delicious chicken and dumpling recipe. It keeps for up to a week in the refrigerator and 6 months in the freezer. Luckily my domestic counterpart has been a willing royal food tester of sorts because he'll eat pretty much anything. The compliments are abound in this household even if it isn't Food Network worthy!

That said, I've made it a point to try cooking and eating in the style specific to the region for each place I've called home. I won't list all of my explorations because many of them haven't turned out to be blog-worthy. The following are a couple of highlights from the last 10-ish years. The take home? Diets are for noobs!

Wyoming

If you are under the impression that the square state is a winter-laden wasteland not worth exploring (thanks to what you see while driving through on I-80), believe you me that when harvest comes, the bounty is plentiful! We have a consistent record of harvesting a crapload of chokecherries, rhubarb, and apples from the family ranch and transforming them into this:

Not to mention, where else can you walk 5 minutes down the river to catch this (I'm referring to the fish, not the handsome Californian cowboy in the raincoat-turned-inside out):

And turn it into this?

I LOVE THIS WILD AND WONDERFUL STATE!

Santa Barbara, CA

I didn't really capture cooking photos during my two year stint in Santa Barbara. There was plenty of seafood and bar grub while I was there, but I'd have to say that this was my most favorite culinary moment during grad school. Who can so no to 31 tacos and bean burritos from Taco Bell for their 31st birthday?

San Francisco, CA

Again, not many photos of my culinary endeavors during the six years that I lived here, save for drunken bar photos and a few moments from birthday parties thanks to Facebook archives. This gem is from my 20-something'th birthday when I hosted a shrimp boil to celebrate Mardis Gras season. Not really San Francisco-themed but the giant gold horse and life sized Barbie head are as close as it gets to capturing the SF weirdness.

Vancouver, WA

If you EVER want to enjoy oysters the right way, you should move to the Pacific Northwest. I can't say enough good things about the seafood out here! The coast is extremely accessible even from janky ol' Vancouver and it's very easy to find fresh seafood within an hour or two by car.

Bret and I spent our anniversary weekend at Umpqua Lighthouse State Park which is a little over halfway down the coast of Oregon. Lord almighty did we enjoy what we found at Clausen Oysters, just north of Coos Bay. We scouted a spot on the most expansive beach I've ever seen and barbecued the s&#% outta two dozen oysters. Best memory of our move to the Northwest to-date!

Epilogue:

By now you probably realize that this post is very hypocritical of me to write. I absolutely can't stand food-centric social media anything. Be it food pictures, cocktail close-ups, restaurant check-ins, food blog entries,* recipe shares...they're all a pet peeve of mine.

This mostly stems from the fact that you can't physically imbibe in digital culinary crafts so what's the point? It's all one big "F you" to the senses. Plus each post contributes to a growing case of FOMO that this girl is seriously trying to get over now that I'm home alone most days and subject to a major budget. Either way, I promise that this will be the only time I write about food. At least for the time being.

*One exception: my friend's food-turned-adventure-and-travel blog does a good job of keeping FOMO at bay. It even gave me a great idea for this year's Christmas presents to friends and family!

When life gives you lemons, put a bird on 'em

It’s been quite a while since my adventures of post-graduate "f'"unemployment were last captured in this blog. I had grand visions of updating it with news about a [hypothetical] new home, [hypothetical] new job, [hypothetical] new [insert some other 30-something life milestone], etc. etc. The plan was that I’d be settling into measurable adulthood with the above said accomplishments wrapped up all nice and neat in a box with a little bow on top.

If anything ever actually goes exactly as you've planned, you should know that you’re deluding yourself and life really is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans. Screw you John Lennon for being so à propos. I had a feeling it'd go like this.

Case in point: shortly after my sweet Charlie passed away, Bret’s best friend and our favorite road trip buddy Katie also left this world. We cried. We grieved. I said “bye for now” to my dear family in Colorado and we hit the road again, this time en route to Portland where Bret very deservedly landed his dream job.

Actually, we haven't quite made it to Portlandia yet. For now we are housed just across the Columbia River in Vancouver, Washington, which is Portland's lesser known, lesser refined, but just as methed out red headed stepchild of a neighboring city. There are days that I see its merits and others that motivate me to get my own damn job so we can get the hell outta here.

Apparently the Bible belt extends much farther West than I thought.

As I scout for work I spend a good portion of the lonely weekday hours reflecting on how I got here. Notwithstanding, I have returned to the original starting point of this blog: where is this place called “home," what makes it that, and what do I envision mine becoming? As of late it feels more like a two person igloo on an iceberg adrift in the Sea of Time-to-Grow-Up, which is not to be confused with the Ocean of You've-Self-Actualized-Now-Get-That-Job-Already somewhere along the coast of the Kingdom of Suck-It-Up-You-Ninny.

The prospects of reaching that part of the questionably constructed life map are daunting. I really, really miss my family. I really, really miss the ranch. I really, really don't look forward to going back to work. My heart is still in the Rockies and our dream is to one day return to them. But in the meantime I'm going to try my best at making a home out of where I am now. I guess you could say I'm choosing to put a bird on it.

So far so good. Lately the humble abode has been full of baked goods thanks to an awesome kitchen-themed Christmas present from my main squeeze. We've also furnished it with a wide array of Craigslist furniture and decorations from Goodwill stores far and wide. Most of all we've added two new fixtures consisting of two very darling puppies that we adopted from a crackhead at a convenience store in the middle of nowhere.

Yes, it was impulsive and yes, I have regretted it from time to time. But they've done a good job at filling the little hole in my heart that has been in major need of some healing. Amid the frustration and occasional disciplinary measures, I thank them for being here with us. It's nice to feel something akin to a family.

Meet Mattie and Trixie, or better known as "Spaghetti Legs" and "Satan's Meatball," or just plainly the "Spaghetti Dinner." I'm happy to provide them a much needed home.

Bath time rarely goes unopposed by the little numnuts.