So long, farewell

Whew, we made it. As the last few hours of 2005 fly by, I can almost hear the collective sigh of relief. Another holiday season is behind us. No more cookies to bake, houses to clean, presents to buy. 2006 is around the corner - a clean slate.

Now is the time to sit back and reflect on a year gone by. We can smile and cherish those special moments - the trips we took, the time spent with friends, the holidays with family. And we can wave at our troubles in the rear-view mirror as we head into a new year. Because we believe, of course, that 2006 will be different. This year, we'll keep those resolutions we made. We'll have time to do all those things we missed out on in 2005. We won't get sucked into the old routine.

I am always amazed at the tendency of humans to celebrate this completely human-developed phenomenon as though it IS a time of new beginnings. It is no wonder we have such trouble keeping our resolutions - there is no tangible difference between today and tomorrow. I think it is the lack of physical change that makes it so difficult to follow through with all those good intentions we call New Year's Resolutions.

But yet, I think the New Year's celebration is an extremely important one for people. It allows us the chance to make a new beginning - to move on from a blemished past and look ahead to a future full of hope, promise, and opportunity. It is like collective mulligan for the human race. And there is a real psychological significance to that.

So, what are MY resolutions? What am I going to pledge to change for 2006? That, my friends, will be fodder for another entry.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Allison and I hitting the cross country trails. 

Enjoying winter in snowy Colorado 

Missing Cali

I've had a rough week here in Colorado. Sometimes I go through these periods where I miss California in a big way. I miss 'home', and the sense of belonging that comes with it.

The irony of this homesickness for California is not lost on me. When I interviewed with Carollo as a 1st year grad student at Illinois, I remember specifically telling my potential employer that I just couldn't see myself living in California. Their office in Seattle sounded great, Portland too. But California? My brother always referred to it as the land of fruits and nuts. I have to admit, I tended to agree. I was too normal to move to a place like San Fran.

For whatever reason, by my 2nd year of grad school, I was willing to at least give CA a try. Carollo flew me out to the bay area for an interview. I remember driving my rental car from the Oakland airport across the bay bridge and actually crying at the sight of San Francisco, the glistening bay, and the green hills of Marin. What a dramatic change from the cornfields of Illinois. It was beautiful.

And so I spent three years living among the 'California crazies' - navigating my way through the tie-dyed t-shirts of Berkeley and watching in wonder as Arnold was elected Governor. I continued to laugh at California's over-the-top liberal ways, but I began to find myself surrounded by community - at work, at church, in every activity I was involved in. California, the land of fruits and nuts, was my home.

During my father's 50th birthday a few years ago, he took the time to reflect on his life, and he wrote down "lessons" he had learned from each of his family members. From me, he said, he learned that experiences are the key to life, and people are the key to experiences. I am amazed at how often I come back to that - it is a simple concept, yet it is at the core of who I am. And it reminds me that it doesn't matter where I live - whether in Granola California or Conservative Colorado, it is the people I surround myself with that matter. They, more than anything else, define home for me. And that is an exciting thought. It means that, even if I don't love everything about Colorado, I can still belong here. Sigh, there is hope for me yet.

Twixters

I was talking with some friends last weekend about a Time magazine article I read months ago on "Twixters," their term for people who are no longer adolescents, but not yet adults. The article talked about a whole new life stage that is emerging, due to the fact that people are staying in school longer, marrying later, and jumping from job to job. According to the article, the median age for a woman to marry 30 years ago was 21. 21!!! Today it is somewhere between 25 and 30 (whew, I still have a few years).

We talked alittle bit about what defines adulthood, and why so many of us believe it is a life stage we have yet to really enter. While getting married and starting a family may be one of society's definitions, we also decided that "adults" were people who were financially independant and able to make responsible decisions for themselves.

I reflected on this awhile and wondered why I don't feel like an adult, despite meeting several of the definitions of adulthood that we came up with. Part of me is starting to think that there is another key aspect to adulthood which few of my friends and I qualify for. And that is, having a well-defined future. A year ago today, I would never have guessed that I would be moving to CO this past summer. I was actually mulling over an opportunity to move to Portland.

Friends pass in and out of my life, as people move from place to place every few years. Many people in their 20's cringe at the thought of signing a year-long lease. Who knows what will happen in so much time? Let's face it, most of my friends can't even commit on Wednesday to plans for Saturday night. After all, something better might come along. And for those of us single folk, life can be turned upside down at any moment by meeting that 'special someone' who shifts our priorities away from ourselves. It's not just hard to predict where I'll be a year from now, it's downright impossible.

From my vantage point in the throes of 'emerging adulthood,' it seems that adults have less change in their lives, and fewer unknowns. They live in the same place longer, keep the same friends, the same jobs, and are surrounded by the same family members. And there is something comforting in that. Adulthood isn't a bad thing. I just don't think I'm there yet.

Bad Timing

The weather report was on the radio this morning as my alarm went off. It was minus six degrees outside. Whew, another chilly one! I took a long hot shower, enjoyed a steaming bowl of oatmeal, and decided that I ought to dig out a hat to wear on my way into work, as I'm still getting over a cold.

I had to scrape ice off my windshield and wait several minutes for the defroster to kick in as condensate from my breath was freezing to the inside of the windshield, making it impossible to see. Finally, I was on my way.

About half-way between home and work, I start to notice that my car is rattling in a most worrying fashion. Before I know it, my front tire completely blows, and I slow to the shoulder as the sidewalls give out and the tire bounces into the snow, steam furiously rising from it.

Thanks to this whole incident, I have learned a few lessons:

1) Don't count on AAA (after being on hold for 10 minutes, they promise me they'll be there in an hour and a half).
2) The feminist movement has really worked. Not a soul stopped to help the young girl changing a tire all by herself on the side of the road.
3) It's amazing how quickly a person can change a tire when working fast is the only way to keep from going completely numb.
4) Hats are invaluable.

And finally, I am thankful for cell phones and fatherly figures from work who will come and tighten the lug nuts for you. ;)

Two things

1) I saw a wheat grass juicer in the grocery store tonight. Wheat grass juicer? Have you ever felt inclined to DRINK grass? I have officially placed Boulder back in the 'liberal' category.

2) Jeanne has called me out. Here in Colorado, whenever I am asked where I used to live, I say Berkeley, CA. I love Berkeley - it's a multi-cultural town town full of character, where the small independent businesses rule. And it is where most of my friends lived. But, alas, it is not actually where I lived. I lived in Walnut Creek, 15 miles east of Berkeley and a world apart. Walnut Creek (fondly referred to as The WC or The Creek) is an affluent, white, shopping mecca, with the likes of Restoration Hardware and Tiffany's (neither of which, I can assure you, ever saw one Becky dollar). I lived in the Creek because my office was conveniently 4 miles down the road. And even though I will continue to call Berkeley my home, the WC was where I actually laid my head to rest. Ironic, in a way, because Boulder is like Berkeley meets Walnut Creek - it's liberal and independent, but its also affluent and whitey white-town. So, is it the best or the worst of both worlds? Talk amongst yourselves.

Inclement Weather

I'm moving back to California. Seriously, the high tomorrow in Boulder is 7 degrees. That's the high. The low is negative six. Not the windchill, but the air temperature. That's approximately 76 degrees below room temperature. Brrr.

At this point, I have to say I'm feeling alittle deceived regarding Boulder winters. I was told, oh yes, it will snow in Boulder, but it always melts the next day. I love snow. It snowed today. But something tells me it isn't going to be melting tomorrow.

In other news, yesterday was windy. There were recorded wind speeds of 88 miles per hour in the area. A roof blew off someone's house in Boulder. Two people in my office were KNOCKED TO THE GROUND in the parking lot trying to get into the building in the morning. Both of them lost their lunch. It blew away. Just like that. A coworker turned to help one of the women who fell, and in turning his head, his sunglasses blew right off his face. They were 30 feet in the air before he could do anything about them. They are probably in Kansas by now. I literally thought for a minute that I wasn't going to make it from my car to the building. Kinda makes you want to walk around with rocks in your pockets just so you don't blow away.

My parents were concerned about earthquakes in California. All I got was one or two rumblings in my three years there. In the past two days, I've battled hurricane force winds, icy, snowy roads, and temperatures that would make your face freeze solid in approximately 43 seconds. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

My flying nephew in the sweater his Aunt knit for him 

New Stuff

I did it. I bought a new road bike. And not just ANY bike, but a really sweet 2005 Lemond Zurich. Steel frame, with a carbon fiber fork, seat stays, and top tube. Shimano ultegra components. Bontrager Race X-lite wheels. This baby is souped up. :) But my favorite part? It has a triple crank. I went for a short ride today to test it out (despite the 32 degree weather and snow on the ground) and my knees were singing for joy.

I headed straight for the nearest climb (not hard to find around here). With the chilly temps, I was the only one on the road. Even with the triple, climbing is hard work, and I was toasty warm before I knew it. And I was thinking, why am I the only one out riding on this fine Colorado day? But then the road started to get slushy and I had to turn around and head downhill. WOOO HOOO. That was COLD!!! NO WONDER I was the only one on the road. I am only now beginning to regain sensation in my fingers and toes. But that's okay - after all, I own a sweet bike. :)