Settled

Things have been crazy lately. But also, somehow, not at all.

Here's the thing: I finished working full time at the restaurant two weekends ago. I picked up shifts here and there to clean as they were getting ready to close last week, but I was pretty much done. That's about 50 hours a week, gone.

Anyway, basically I'm in a transition phase right now. Trying to find other work somewhere else, going to several interviews a week, applying for a couple new jobs a day. It seems like my job prospects shift each new day with one phone call, one set of email exchanges, one rejection, one application. I've applied to upwards of... 50 jobs in the past month? And heard back from maybe about 10? And denied one offer, didn't get one offer, and still waiting on the others. Some, more promising than others. All with the purpose of making enough to move out.

I wrote at the beginning of the summer about purging my life and packing it up, ready to go. And this entire summer, I've been waiting for an opportunity to go. To move out of my parent's house, to have my life figured out, and to unpack and settle somewhere more permanent.

As it turns out, my parent's house has been my living place for the past five months. I never thought I'd still be here, and this whole waiting to leave thing is getting really exhausting. Having my life packed up and ready to go, like I was a guest in their house waiting to go to my real home, dragged on too long.

No matter how much longer I'l be here, I just need to settle. I need to unpack and to accept that this is my home now, even if that may change in a matter of weeks. I need to really be where I am (don't mind my cliches).

This attitude of packing all my belongings into the closet inadvertently gave me the mindset that I didn't belong, that this room wasn't really mine, that I was restless for a space that was really mine, later on. Maybe it's this instinctual fall nesting thing? Is that real? Apparently.

Anyway. I've unpacked. I've settled.

Still waiting for an opportunity to leave though. But now it will feel like moving from one home to another, instead of leaving vacation that dragged on to long. For this week at least. One day at at time.

Posing your life vs. Living your life

[[some thoughts while scrolling through Instagram this morning]]

How long did it take you to pose that photo? Did you just buy that coffee to get that picture? Do you even like coffee if you really think about it? 

How many people did you ask about your caption before you posted it? Are you really that witty all on your own? 

Did you really know that quote or did you google "inspirational quotes" for that caption? What does that even have to do with your picture? 

What are you even trying to say about yourself? Is it even true? 

[[seriously though]]

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Now that I'm back on Instagram, I've been trying really hard to avoid posing my life. I've been trying to post photos that are minimally edited, that actually happened the way they look, and where the caption actually tells the truth. It's hard to do. And I'm realizing how much easier it is to make my life look perfect.

Yesterday, if I were to pose my life on Instagram, I would have taken this picture:

Photo from above of my feet (although I would have to go put on my cute wool socks for the right effect) in bed with my cozy blankets (but I would have gone to get the cuter ones, I had my ugly tie blanket) with a book (even though I was definitely watching Friends on Netflix and for sure not reading) and my hand holding a coffee cup (although I forgot about my coffee and it was cold). Instagram caption:

"Enjoying a book and coffee on this rainy afternoon #cozy #blessed"

Real life caption:

"Nobody bother me today I woke up at 10:45 and put off all my projects to watch Netflix in my ugliest pajamas then I ate too much chocolate and felt bloated until bedtime"

Today's posed photo would look something like this:

Again, and aerial photo of this table, my Mac computer and my latte-art coffee. Instagram caption:

"Finally getting things done, latte in hand at my favorite coffee shop #productive"

Real life caption:

"I ordered this latte but I don't really like it, because the milk is making me feel gross and it's way too sugary, and why did I order a drink with milk it in when I'm lactose intolerant?? Also I am not being productive, I'm on Facebook and Pinterest and took a break from that to stand on this chair to take this stupid picture, and I'm about ready to leave. Coffee shops might be overrated??"

In an attempt at honesty, I'm going to post #RealTalk Instagram captions here more often. So. Something to look forward to.

Thanks for reading.

Anatomy of a road trip

This one time I went on a 2 week camping trip with my friend Kel. We drank coffee and hiked mountains and laughed over camp-stove meals and took hammock naps and pretended we aren't adults. It was some kind of therapy.

I posted about our itinerary previously, which had all but changed after the first day. The updated itinerary looked like this:

Minneapolis, MN --> Black Hills and Mount Rushmore, SD --> Beartooth Pass, MT/WY --> Yellowstone National Park, WY --> Bozeman, MT --> Missoula, MT --> Flathead Lake, MT --> Glacier National Park, MT --> Seattle, WA --> Olympic National Park, WA --> Seattle, again --> Billings, MT (for a night) --> home.

Here's the part where I list all my favorite things we did on the trip:

Favorite hike: Grinnell Glacier, Glacier National Park
About 11.5 miles total, out and back. The views were incredible the whole way, like straight out of National Geographic. The greeeeeen trees were just patiently waiting on the mountain side to be admired, and admired they were. There were little trickles of water on the trail from the mountain, and the GLACIER AT THE TOP holy cow. It was the most blue thing I've ever seen in my life. There was a lake down below nestled between the trees and mountains and that scene it just about killed me.

Favorite campsite: Shoshone National Forest, Beartooth Loop
We were lucky enough to score a free place to sleep right by a mountain and lake in Shoshone National Forest, with no one around and BONUS even a fire pit and picnic table right there. Our tent fit right in this little baby clearing right by the shore of this unreal lake. Our neighbors were the mountains, the fresh smell of pine and the sound of the waves gently hitting the rocks.

Favorite camp meal: JAMBALAYA
We had packed this jambalaya that was unmatched. I don't even know what brand, which is entirely unhelpful. But after a killer hike day and the best hammock nap of my life, it tasted like plain gold.

Favorite park: Olympic National Park, WA
Okay, this one is really a toss-up. I loved Glacier equally as much, but I thought it only fair that I used Glacier already for a favorite hike. This place also had hikes and campsites that were very close seconds. Deer Park campsite was straight up on-top-of-a-mountain, in-the-clouds kind of camping, and our longest hike the next day was the best views I've ever experienced. It snowed on us during out hike (bonus), and got below freezing overnight on the top of that mountain. But hey, no cold no awesome views amiright???

Favorite wildlife spotting: That one time I saw a mountain lion in the wild/a neighborhood
YES. It's true. We saw a real life mountain lion, in a town near where we were camping. Needless to say I slept not at all that night.

Favorite thing ever: My road trip partner. For making life an adventure.

Surprised by Beauty

Hello from a coffee shop in Bozeman, MT.  So far this rough and tumble crew of the two of us couldn't be loving life more than right now. This is how we have a good time: 

. Arrive at one place we planned on seeing. Stay for about 17 minutes, decide it's boring and we can take a few more hours in the car. Abandon campsite and, onward. 

. Speed past Mount Rushmore in the car a few times to adequately see it, rather than pay $11 to park and look longer. 

. Pull over at a lake to make dinner. Camp stove for the win.

. Hammock along a lake with a killer mountain view, try to read but can't stop staring at nature.

. Buy a bottle of wine and talk about feelings loudly, because there's nobody to hear us but the birds and the bears. 

. Wake up one morning and decide, let's go to Yellowstone.

. Deal with the sore and stiff back, because sleeping on the ground is worth the nature we get to see. 

. Feel accomplished because we managed 3 nights in a row with below freezing temperatures. 

. Get really excited each night to sleep in the sleeping bag because ITS SO FLUFFY.

. Stop at every flippin' information center in each park. Are the campgrounds closed? Is this a good one? Where are the best hikes? Are you sure??

. Snag the very last campsite in Yellowstone FOR THE WIN. 

. Chat with old ladies in the campground bathroom. Will the bears smell my lotion? Well, you'll know in the middle of the night if you hear screams. 

. Attend the campfire circle at the campground, where Ranger Bill told us about pikas and wolverines. 

. Hike that straight-uphill trail to Lava Lake outside of Bozeman. Cry internally the whole time, its hard. 

. Cry for real when we reach the top, because that view just made us forget the whole hike. 

. Loudly declare that I'm peeing in this lake, dangit, despite the fisherman lingering nearby staring. 

. Say hello to some guys on horses going up the trail. What? We have to walk this sucker on our own.

. Arrive at an AirBnB in Bozeman, expecting rip-roarin' fun. Maybe a game night? Beer? 

. Shower for the first time in 4 days, dress up fancy (jeans and a tshirt), go out to dinner in Bozeman. 

. Have our AirBnB host tell us that yes, you really do need bear spray if you're going on a long hike this time of year. You idiots. 

. Wander around Bozeman, pretending to be locals. Wonder if we should move here? But first, we need ice cream. 

. Be surprised by beauty. 

. Come to a coffee shop the next morning to write the whole thing down.  

Itinerary

On Saturday, I left for a two and a half weeks of road tripping and camping. Here is our itinerary:

Minneapolis --> Badlands, South Dakota --> Beartooth Highway and Campground, Montana --> Bozeman, Montana --> Flathead Lake, Montana --> Glacier National Park, Montana --> Lake Coeur D'Alene, Idaho --> Seattle, Washington --> San Juan Islands, Washington --> somehow we'll drive back ..??

We've booked a couple AirBNBs, reserved some campgrounds, and have a rough outline of where we're going. But there are some days in there that we decided to "just wing it," or "see how we feel when we get there," or say "if we want to stay longer, we can. If not, we can leave."

This flexibility. My whole life so far hasn't allowed for this kind of flexibility. School, break, school, work, school.. etc. This is the first September in 16 years where I haven't had to be anywhere specific at any time.

But there's a trade-off. Here's my itinerary for when I return:

Live with my parents? Work at the same restaurant? Maybe freelance write a little? Eventually go to Europe? --> . . .

For this portion, I don't have a plan. Not in the slightest. There is flexibility, but within no boundaries. When people ask, "So.. what's the PLAN??" The only thing I can say for sure is: "I have no clue." Which, as it turns out, is a really good way to kill a conversation. It's kinda fun.

I feel like this should be freaking me out a little more? But somehow it's not. For now, I'm off to enjoy my first adventure within the boundaries of having no plan. Don't even try to bother me with what comes next, I'm not thinking nearly that far ahead.

This is summer.

Freezing cold 6 a.m. runs around lakes, before the melting heat starts.

Juggling phone calls and emails, all trying to contact me to be in a story.

Kayaking from Calhoun to Isles to Cedar Lake and back again.

Getting restless in the office and walking down the alley to the coffee shop to work.

Biking eight miles into Downtown, and changing for work in the office bathroom while wiping sweat from.. everywhere.

Working all day at two different jobs, only to go home and do some freelance work.

Having a few days off (finally) and using them all up driving far distances to be in weddings or relax at cabins.

Working on my summer Chaco tan, and getting instead a nice shorts tan.

Not having the money, or the time, to go shopping for clothes, despite needing some upgrades.

Putting off hobbies like reading or painting, because, who has time?

Writing, constantly. Stories for the magazines, blogging, freelancing online. Always writing.

Making to-do lists, losing them, and forgetting everything.

Using my bike as my car; from Northeast to Uptown to Downtown and everywhere in between. Seriously considering biking distances vastly too far, just to avoid using gas.

Saving every penny from waitressing in a big mug, counting down the days and the dollars until my next adventure.

Writing it all down here.

On hammocking in the city

Today I had the most wonderful day.

I woke up bright and early, which normally wouldn't have me super jazzed, but it's actually pretty nice to be up and at em before most of the world.

I got ready this morning at my friend's apartment (where I slept the night before) and took the bus into the city. The entire time I just kept thinking to myself we're ADULTS, dangit. We are on the bus and there are other people here and look there's a tall building! And here's our stop! Okay, meet you when work's over. Like a true grown up.

I had a meeting with my editor today where we talked about grown-up things, like freelance writing and potential job openings and would you like to keep working here the rest of this year? To which the answer was, sadly, no unless you pay me more than nothing. I mean. I went to college.

After my long and grueling day of work ended at noon, I went for a run along the river, across the Stone Arch bridge and along St. Anthony main, which, as it turns out, is really cute. How many commas can I fit into one sentence?

I then promptly decided that I love city life. It was always a wavering thought, but now it has been solidified. I love living and working in the midst of crowds of people bustling, trains, busses, tall buildings, construction workers eating sandwiches on the curb, people biking and running and brunching, or simply soaking it all in like me. I love the busyness of it all. It makes me feel like I'm a part of something, the living breathing city has an energy to it, and I contribute to that energy.

By now this blog post has gone on long enough without a mention whatsoever of the title. Which, you would suppose, would be the subject of the post. But here it comes!

Within my extreme heart-swelling happiness of belonging to a living breathing city, I realized I was pooped from my run and wanted to take a nap. Well. Where ever can I take a nap in the middle of the city?

So I have this thing called a hammock, from ENO (found here) that I adore. Best gift I've ever received. I strung up my hammock right along the river, downtown next to the Guthrie. There were tons of people around. Lots of noise and chatter, you know. But I was in a completely different world once I slipped inside that thing.

Despite dogs barking, construction drills and the bustle of city life that I love, it all seems to go away once you're in a hammock. You sink in and the sides go up around you and its like you're down in a quiet countryside all of a sudden. Nothing gets in or out. No noise, no obligations, no noisy city people.

My obsession with city life has often left me burnt out, in need of rest. I forget to take breaks, to slow down and take a nap for the love of God. Rest is an integral part of life, necessary to get anything done and be productive, and completely worth it. Rest is incredibly spiritual too, rejuvenating and refilling us in more ways that one.

The majority of American culture is anti-rest. Obviously we all know this. Fill every day with stuff, do things always, make something, complete something, or else you're worthless.

This is why I love that hammocking is breaking onto the scene among people my age. Its a very counter-cultural cultural movement, this hammocking thing. It's telling you to stop, take a nap, hang out, get nothing done, learn nothing except what the birds and water sound like.

This non-activity is so necessary. Take a break. Take a nap. Lose track of time. Learn what the birds and the wind and other people sound like. Learn what your own breathing sounds like. Learn what your thoughts are without crowding them with other things.

That's what I learned today on my most wonderful day. You'll find me taking naps in hammocks in the middle of cities wherever I go, from now on.