“A relationship, I think, is like a shark. You know? It has to constantly move forward or it dies.” -Alvy Singer, ‘Annie Hall’

I’ve always felt a connection with Woody Allen.  He’s always seemed like my soul mate: neurotic, pessimistic, sarcastic, cynical, self-conscious, analytical.

And Annie Hall has always been one of my most favorite “relationship” movies.  Y’all know I hate “chick flicks,” so I’m very skeptical of any “luurve story,” but Annie Hall has the message of hope without the sappy ending: relationships are absurd and irrational, but we still need to go through them. We need to believe they are not what they are.

The interest and I saw Beginners on Monday night, and it actually echoed a similar theme….

Do you believe in magic?

***

This whole new approach to looking on the bright side and praising myself, has kind of paid off.  At least, I feel better.   I wasn’t optimistic about finding a job, but I did it.  I wasn’t optimistic about the new relationship with the interest, but it’s working.

I won’t abandon my neuroticism, pessimism, sarcasm, cynicism, or analytical mind, but I will look forward with a realistic yet positive approach.

Getting the job (YES!) has helped.

Not worrying about unhappily moving back to OK has helped.

Surprisingly, this budding relationship with the new interest is moving forward fairly successfully, and I can’t help but wonder if the success of my Shark friends’ relationships is partially responsible for my newfound optimism about this interest.

Urban Dictionary does not have the proper definition, but a young woman who identifies herself as a “Shark” can only be described as the anti-girlfriend.  The girl who nary a boy wants to take home to mama and rarely has a mate. Sure, we’re perfectly normal, but we have a brain and a mouth and we use them.  Able to drink like a pro, cuss like a sailor, engage in an intellectual conversation, punch you in the face, and then make you breakfast.  We’re not traditionally pretty, and we’re somewhat elusive and threatening. chompchomp

2 of the Sharkiest girls I know recently snagged boyfriends.  This is monumental.  And it gives me hope  ~^~

***

Funny, that even though I consider myself to be a cynical realist, I still believe in fortuitous fate and the astrological forces… I mean, how interesting is it that my landlord never received my certified letter requesting my lease termination? How odd that an interest (who didn’t enter into my world with a glowing recommendation) indirectly influenced me to stick around CO for an extra month, and not only did that lead to my employment but also a sweet start to a relationship?

Said interest and the terrible-horrible-no good-very bad reference? Well, he’s really taking the steps to change his life for the better, as I mentioned here. It’s nice because the person “he used to be” would not jive with me. He’s even set to change his diet, and that’s made it possible for me to share my yummy, healthy foods with him.  For the first time since I’ve been in Denver, I made dinner for a boy who didn’t flee immediately following the table clearing. He told me that he wanted to forgo libations for a while and eat foods that didn’t come in a bag via drive-thru, but he was having a hard time following through with it.  Then, he got his Tarot cards read, somewhat hesitantly, and the freakin’ reader told him, among many other prophecies, that he should detox for the next 3-9 months.

Awesome.

***

My dad, who is the least cheesy/cliché/trite person I know, has been so encouraging and congratulatory towards me regarding my new job.  Directly after being given the job, I called him and he said, “I don’t mean to sound cheesy or offend you in any way, but this has got to do wonders for your self-worth!  You must really feel at home now, like you belong.”

Ha!  It made me think he had read this post!

“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together…” Marcus Aurelius

Whit

“I don’t care about clever, I don’t care about funny. I want loads of clothes and fuck loads of diamonds.” -Lily Allen, “The Fear”

I just found a perfect piece of modern satire, and I can’t wait to use it in my class! That’s right, I have a class to teach!

I got a long-term substitute teaching job for 12 grade/AP English 3 miles from my APT in Denver!!!  It will end in October, but it’s a major step in the right direction.

“The Fear” discusses a theme that I’ve been talking about and dealing with for the last few years since I’ve given up TV.   We’re so much more afraid when we’re told “Be Afraid” by pundits.  We’re so much more dissatisfied when we’re constantly bombarded with “beautiful” people.  We’re much more inclined to “want” when we see things flash before our eyes in primetime. Everyone is “famous” and everyone is online and hooked in.  It’s confusing….

And kids are the much bigger target.

I want to be rich and I want lots of money
I don’t care about clever I don’t care about funny
I want loads of clothes and fuck loads of diamonds
I heard people die while they are trying to find them

And I’ll take my clothes off and it will be shameless
Cause everyone knows that’s how you get famous
I’ll look at the sun and I’ll look in the mirror
I’m on the right track yeah I’m on to a winner

I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear?
‘Cause I’m being taken over by the fear

Life’s about film stars and less about mothers
It’s all about fast cars and cussing each other
But it doesn’t matter cause I’m packing plastic
and that’s what makes my life so fucking fantastic

And I am a weapon of massive consumption
And its not my fault it’s how I’m programmed to function
I’ll look at the sun and I’ll look in the mirror
I’m on the right track yeah we’re on to a winner

I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear?
‘Cause I’m being taken over by the fear

Forget about guns and forget ammunition
Cause I’m killing them all on my own little mission
Now I’m not a saint but I’m not a sinner
Now everything’s cool as long as I’m gettin thinner

I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear?
‘Cause I’m being taken over by the fear

 

Whit

“I should just be my own best friend not fuck myself in the head with stupid men.” -Amy Winehouse, “Tears Dry on Their Own”

This song has been an anthem for a while, but I think I’m gonna take it to heart for realzies now, Amy.

Truly beautiful.  Truly talented.

Enough said…..

Whit

“First off, I’m not a scientist, and I make no apology for that.” -Christopher Shays

Do you know anyone who is 100 years old or has lived to be 100?

My great-grandmother (and the only relative I ever really felt a connection with) lived to be 100 years old, and she died very close to her 101st birthday.  She was a truly interesting woman who cooked the best fried chicken (that no one has ever been able to duplicate), who always had Coke in glass bottles and taught us to leave the cap on, poke a hole in the top, and insert a straw for spill-proof fun, who helped me start my stamp collection by giving me letters my great-grandfather had written to her during WWII, who was a little bit psychic and helped me find my intuition, who had the most beautiful furniture and blankets, who had (creepy) baby dolls from 1910, who had an exquisite garden that she maintained late into life, who had a deep love for all stray cats, who had a hilarious Christmas tradition of wrapping cash in as many envelopes as your age and making you carefully open each one, who made the Cuckoo Clock go off for me every time I left her house, who everyone called Mom….

I miss you Mom, and I hate that your children and grandchildren forgot about you and didn’t even have the decency to notify the Great-grandkids when they sold your home, your belongings, our memories, and threw you in a nursing home.  I’m sorry I was too young to put it all together and realize what happened before it was too late. I’m sorry that there was no funeral.  I’m sorry I didn’t get that Cuckoo Clock that you wanted me to have.

I found this picture while searching for images to celebrate my 100th post, and it made me think of you………..

not Mom

Post #100!!!!!!!!!!!

We’ve officially made it half-way through 2011!  Have YOU survived?  I’m just barely hanging on…….

I really wanted this post to be a fuckingFIREWORKSfantasia, but as you well know, my emotions are all over the place at the mome…

So, we’ll start with the good:

I’ve written 100 posts.  That is an accomplishment of which I’m very proud.

I’ve finally forgiven and made peace with George W. Bush, thanks to Oprah. I’ve ordered his book Decision Points, and I’m really excited to read it.

I’m approaching my 1 year anniversary in Denver…

My friend of 22 years, Rachel, finally got a teaching job!

Okay? Now the look back at the last 6 months….

Remember my GOALS?

Behold! My 2011 GOOOOAALLS = or failures!!!

.Continue last year’s goals of consuming more turmeric (resorted to pill form as it was too difficult to cook with it every day) and using the microwave less.

-No clue when I last cooked with turmeric (since there’s none? in the house), but I think I’ve been pretty good at only using the microwave once a day (if even that much). And I’ve been taking Zinc supplements instead of turmeric.

.Heal with herbs for hormones!
I need to finally (over a year late!) start taking herbs to balance my hormones.

-I have been taking Chaste Tree (herb) for my for my hormonally imbalanced skin, and I’ll have to continue using it for another year, but I don’t know how much longer I can put up with my acne-ridden face.  Many days, I have been so close to making an appointment at Planned Parenthood to get back on the pill.  I don’t know… The next (yet more expensive) option is to get regular facials…

.Limit “zone-out-time!”
Reading my many leather-bound books, studying comedians, reading news and blogs, watching DVDs, and FaceSpacing are gonna widen my ass!

-I’ve been terrible at monitoring this!  The newly repaired computer is hindering this goal.

.Conquer creative cardio!
I cannot afford a gym membership right now.

-I have actually been pretty good at this, for the most part.  Being unemployed (again) allows me the time (when I choose to take advantage of it) to exercise.  I got a bike in April, and I’ve been walking a lot every day.

.Get the hell back on stage!
It’s ridiculous. There are so many more opportunities to perform here than in OKC. I just need to get back in the routine.

-I’m so over this…. It kinda lingers in my mind, but I’m still pretty much over performing stand-up.

.Smoking’s bad, mmmmkaay??
I’ve been smoking about a pack of cigarettes a week.

-Still there doin’ that, but I’ve got a new plan to read The Easy Way to Stop Smoking and quit by the time I’m 30.

.Get yo’ computer fixed, girl!
This goal is simple.

-And I made it happen.  ACHIEVEMENT!!!

.Stick with the “Skinny Chick” program!
Terrible title. Perfect plan.

-Nope.  I’ve kinda been all over the place, but I still need to want to must maintain at 135ish.  I’m 5 lbs over that again!

.Don’t be afraid of the library!
Yes, the girl who loves books hates libraries.

-Nope.  Still haven’t gone.  Still too a-scared…

Sure, I’ve still got 5 months to work on accomplishing these goals………

We’ll see what happens….

Like I said here, I’m considering it an accomplishment to just get out of bed every morning…..

All I can do is try……

Whit

“Let’s talk about sex…” -Salt N Pepa

Honesty World

Sometimes we must take a trip to Honesty World. It’s not everyone’s favorite destination, but I’ve found that the more honest I am with myself and my writing, the more clarity I can achieve.  Plus, it’s just fun to spark some topics that you readers can ponder and provide me with feedback.  Gert, I’m looking at you

I had sex on a rooftop last Thursday night.

Yep.  Overlooking Colfax, under the slightly full moon, on a roof, I had sex.

I haven’t had sex outdoors (out of a tent) in the open in over 10 years.

It was pretty great.

Yes, the sex was good, but the experience was quite magical.  I was so proud of myself for abandoning my inhibitions and just going for it.

Even days later when I found out that the interest’s neighbors saw the whole thing, I really didn’t care.

BIG!  HUGE! for me….

***

I lost my virginity at 13.  Not a lot of people know that.

I stayed the night at my friend Tori’s house.  She lived in the country, but two brothers lived (the equivalent of) next door. One brother was my age, the other was 4 years older.  I liked the boy who was my age, and Tori dated his best friend.  I was hoping that those boys would be next door that night.  Well, turns out that the 13 year old boys were staying at Tori’s boyfriend’s house, and the older brother was having a friend over.  Tori and I snuck out, went next door, and she began to get friendly with the friend.

We were watching Candyman, and Tori and Ian were, uh, distracting Brad and I from the movie.

We went to the bathroom (yeah…), and because I think we thought it was our “duty,” we began to get friendly.  I knew what I was doing, and while it was my first time, I was still ready.  Brad, however, may not have been.

As quickly as it began, it ended with “I have a girlfriend.”

No blood.  No love.  Nothing to show for it.

I did not have sex again for over a year.

Then, it was still sporadic.

I didn’t have sex with an actual boyfriend until I was 19.  Everyone in between was a fling.

I’m lucky that I’ve never gotten pregnant or contracted any serious STDs.

I’m unlucky, however, for experiencing an active sex life before I turned 20.

Everything since that episode on the Bowles’ bathroom floor has determined my sexual state of mind to this day.

I try to have standards and be a lady.  And my lifestyle is definitely not one of a whore.  I’ve known much sluttier ladies who have had less sex than me.  It’s all in the attitude.  It’s the Virgo in me, perhaps, that causes me to have the outward appearance of a prude and the bedroom stylings of a prostitute.

I love sex.

I’ve gone 4 entire years without it, inconsecutively.  Those 12+ months without sex made me a stronger person.  Fa reelz.

I don’t just jump into bed with anyone.  I do it when I want to.  I don’t when I don’t.

The problem is, and this is what I’d like feedback on, when I’m in a “relationship” that is sexually active, I can’t get enough.

Either he can’t keep up or doesn’t want to.

Not counting the current situation with the new interest, I’ve had 5 relationships since I was 20 that were sexually active, and only one of those boys could or wanted to keep up with me.

Young or old.  Drunk or not.  My sexual appetite seems to be much stronger than most men’s.

Part of this may be due to the fact that I know what an orgasm feels like, so if I don’t get one, I want one.  Some guys still just don’t get that.

Part of this may be due to the fact that men are done once they’re finished and women can keep going.

I don’t really know.

I’ve asked my guy friends, and of course they’re “stunned!” But that’s just a typical guy; they all think they’re “sex machines.”

I’ve asked my girl friends, and some of them are just as shocked as the guys, “You!  You want to have more sex that him?!” or “He doesn’t want to have sex with you!?”

So, is it just me?!

What the hell?

Please, enlighten me………………….

Whit

“Worry is the interest paid by those who borrow trouble.” -George Washington

These… These are currently a few of my favorite things…

Fake (phake) Pho = Ramen + Frozen shrimp

Who Nu Cookies

Lemons

Sitting around my APT completely naked

Focussing on my strengths

Laughing at shit that’s awesome and not caring

Making fun of the shit that’s ridiculous and not caring

Girls that “get” me and love it

Boys that “get” me and are afraid of it

***

These… These are few things currently on my mind…

I don’t accomplish a lot of goals

I’m lazy, but a lot of people don’t think so

I’ve literally written more this year than any other since 2006

The relationship with my sisterfriend is still fucked, and neither of us is trying to fix it

When I sell this furniture (pleaseJAHsoon), I’m going to feel a sense of weightlessness

I want my career back

I want health insurance

I want clear skin

***

I feel like Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York.  (Yes, I just watched some interviews with her.)  “How do I find self-worth?” she asked.

Yes.  How?

This whole year of not teaching and not doing much of anything has added a ton to this loaded question, “What am I contributing to my life and the world?”

***

This blog has really helped me to sort out some of this junk that is cluttering my mind, but I’m still in a rut.

I know we’re supposed to say and think, “Everything happens for a reason… This wasn’t meant to be… That just wasn’t the right job… He just wasn’t the right guy…” but the more that things don’t work out in our favor, the more difficult it is to stay positive.

***

So, I’ve decided to accomplish a goal every day and to be satisfied with myself, proud of myself for accomplishing something.  (The negative self-talk/self-hate has ruled my life for almost 29 years; and look where that’s gotten me.)

If I clean the kitchen, GOAL ACCOMPLISHED!

If I make the bed, GOAL ACCOMPLISHED!

If I ride my bike, GOAL ACCOMPLISHED!

If I workout, GOAL ACCOMPLISHED!

If I take a shower, GOAL ACCOMPLISHED!

If I bathe Beatrice, GOAL ACCOMPLISHED!

I know it sounds silly, and these “goals” aren’t necessarily milestones, but I need to focus on being my own cheerleader.  I need to be proud of what I actually do.  I’ve spent too much of my life not giving myself any credit for anything because “Of course you cleaned the kitchen/worked out/bathed Beatrice/graduated college/became a teacher, that’s a normal activity.”

No one is going to say, “Hey!  Great Job!”

But that doesn’t mean I can’t say it and feel it.

***

That’s why I began this post with some “favorite things.” I need to take joy in the things that I love.  The things that bring me comfort and happiness, the things that are private, the things that for no reason other than “I just like it” satisfy me and are the things that I must focus on.

Well, that and obtaining a job…

***

I’ve been told since I can remember, “You worry too much.”  True.  I do.  I’ve been afraid that if I stop worrying, no one else will.  I now, however, have really tried to focus all of that worry on myself.  This is the reason I’ve stopped watching TV and stopped becoming emotionally involved in politics.  I’ve stripped a lot of that useless worry from my life, and I plan to keep getting better at this.

“Give me the strength to change the things I can. The courage to accept the things that I cannot. And the wisdom to know the difference…”

SERENITY NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Whit

“Pessimism leads to weakness, optimism to power.” -William James

I’m a pessimist. But can you blame me?  Not a whole lot has worked out in my favor throughout my life, especially in the “relationship” department.

I’m afraid that if I am optimistic about a budding relationship, I will be more hurt when it ends.

I’ve been wrestling with that since yesterday’s post.

I do not think, however, that my interpretation of this new interest is entirely bad; he’s *what* I’m looking for (*meaning he’s not unattainable/in a relationship/live miles away; he is nice/attractive/smart/fun*).

But I do think that it’s silly to trust that this thing will become something.  At least, it’s silly to plan on it becoming something.

Problem is, I was planning on surrendering, kicking and screaming, retreating home to mooch off of a parent.  I was planning on being unhappy but comfortable and able to save money.  I was planning on becoming a hermit and working towards moving back here or somewhere that had a job for me.

The new interest does not know of this plan nor do I think it’s appropriate to discuss the notion of the future this early in the “relationship.”

So, believe it or not, I took action elsewhere with a positive attitude.  I told myself, “Sometimes things DO work out in your favor!  Sometimes people surprise you!”

Why, just the other day, contrary to my belief that I’m the only bitch on Earth willing to say something when a jerk is offensive, My Girl reminded me of why she is just so very special.  She does say something.  She will react and protect.  It shouldn’t surprise me when she jumps to my aid, but you see, it is just so rare for anyone to do that for people anymore.

Also, all of my parents are completely on board with my ”to move or not to move” question.

And my landlord is being just an absolute sweetheart, “Just let me know when you need to leave, and it’ll be no problem.”

See!  Surprises wait around every corner.  I’m trying my damnedest to look on the bright side………… I’m trying to will happiness………..  I’m trying to get a fucking income………….

But I’m still trying to have fun…………

Today was a FREE day at the Denver Botanic Gardens.   So I rode my bike and hung out for a couple of hours.  Luckily I made it home before the rain (which is still dampening my spirits quite a bit).  I am also happy that I caught some awesome photos, and maybe those can keep these rainy day blues at bay.

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Whit

“I don’t wanna wonder whether you love me; I don’t wanna wonder whether you care. So, don’t try to woo me. Don’t try to fool me. Oh, I know all of your tricks. It’s the possibility of stayin’ in my corner.” -Zooey Deschanel, “Take it Back”

I spent the last 3 days with a boy who claims to be “decently smitten” with me.

Magic on Thursday night…

Sweet words and sweetness Friday night…

Pho and a million hot dogs and a Rockies game and a punk rock show on Saturday…

Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris (his suggestion) at an indie theater built in the 1930s, bike rides to 2 different coffee shops where we read books and discussed philosophy, followed by dinner at Vine St. Pub on Sunday….

Since we live across the street from each other, we did not (thankfully) spend every moment together, but we spent a good deal of quality time really getting to know each other and our city.

We have stuff to talk about.

We know some of the same people.

We’ve got a lot in common.

And we have chemistry….

Plenty of that!

Problem?

I was warned this would happen.

The gusband specifically said, “Don’t do it.”

Why?

“He falls in love too quickly.  He always has a girlfriend.”

So?

“So do you want that? You know people like that.”

I do want a relationship.  And it’s been a long time since someone liked me for more than just sex.

My Girl then added the bits about “the past.”

Don’t we all have one?

Indeed.  We do.

Difference?

This ain’t Oklahoma.

I came here for the lifestyle- healthy, active, proactive -as well as the environment, climate, and mind-set.  I came here to change.

And I think I have changed, to an extent. I want to be here so badly, and not at all because of the new interest.  You all know that.  This is truly where I think I belong… Let the Gods of Employment will it so!

This place just runs differently, and I like it.

That’s what he was looking for.  He moved here for a life-change, and from what I’ve witnessed, he’s taking all of the necessary steps to achieve that goal.

The friends he has here are very different from the ones back home. Hell, they can’t shut up about how much they want me in his life.  He has told me that I’ve been a good influence on him so far, and I’m having a bit of fun with the fact that he’s been a bad influence on me.

Something is good here:

He’s not unattainable.  He’s not in a relationship.  He doesn’t live miles away (literally I can see his window from mine).

He’s nice to me.  He’s attractive.  He’s smart.  He’s fun.

No one has kissed me in public (that wasn’t drunk) in a long time.  I feel wanted but also respected.

The only real anxiety-inducing facet of this “relationship” is that my phuckingphone obviously doesn’t want it to work out.  I never get his texts, and it caused me to think I was being stood up Friday night when I missed the textS (multiple) telling me he was running late.

Oh, and there’s that little part about me leaving Denver, maybe?

It’s just the possibility…………………that’s killin’ me ……………………………………………………………………………………….

Whit

“Help me if you can! I’m feeling down…” -The Beatles, “HELP!”

Won’t you please, please help me?

I’m not necessarily down, but  I’m freaking out a bit.

HELP!

The new interest and I are really hitting it off……. I don’t even know what to think about that…

I've never been with a guy who has a lot of tattoos...... It's like being with living-art.

He’s just damn amazing me.  I thought maybe this was just a fling, and maybe it is, but last night we had kind of a special moment or two, and we’ve made plans for the next 3 nights….

HELP!

I haven’t told him that I’m leaving in 15 days.  I have told him that I’m trying to get a job in NOLA.

HELP!

I still haven’t heard from NOLA.

HELP!

I just realized that I haven’t received the return receipt from my certified letter to my landlord regarding my lease termination…..

HELP!

Any words of encouragement/advice/HELP! are much appreciated!

I’m really fucking confused…………………………………………….

Whit

“There is not one female comic who was beautiful as a little girl.” -Joan Rivers

Joan Rivers, for all of her current flaws, truly paved the way for female comedians.  She was beautiful and honest.

I love the quote above because I find it to be very accurate.  From my own experience, the majority of comedians I know personally, read about, and/or admire all have self-esteem issues.

I love Rivers’ style from the 60s: beautiful, elegant, brash, eccentric, daring.

I have performance anxiety, and while I enjoy attention and the whatnot that goes into a performance, sit me in a dark room with coffee and cigarettes, let someone perform my words, and I find it to be just a hell of a lot more fun.

Apparently, when I finally read Bossypants, I’m going to have an epiphany…

Ready for that!

Sometimes somethings show up at the most perfect moments… Sometimes somethings seem perfect at the most inconvenient moments… Sometimes things are just outright odd….

I found these awesome stencils on my walk Monday morning...

It should have prepared me for my evening with two of the funniest ladies on Earth!

Leah Kayajanian stopped into Denver around 2pm on Monday afternoon, the last stop on her way to a life of fame and fortune in Hollywood.

We took our dogs to Cheeseman Park, got free Slurpees from 7/11, and I took her into her first dispensary.

Then we came back to the APT to freshen up and get ready to go to an open-mic in Fort Collins with Kristin Rand.  It was my first time to Fort Collins, and it was very beautiful, but we had to speed through a scary thunderstorm to get there on time.  Leah had vertigo, and Kristin and I just smoked a lot to calm ourselves.

We ended up arriving with plenty of time to enjoy Old Town, where we ate a cheap slice of NYstyle pizza while KRand got us excited about “REAL LIFE COOKIES” that we had to get across the street.

“Real life cookies? As opposed to fake cookies?” I asked.

“Real LIFE cookies! One awesome cookie with a hugeass scoop of ice cream and another awesomeass cookies on top!”

Oh.  Hell.  Yes.

I don’t even have to tell you they were fantastic.

The girls tried to talk me into doing a set, and I had to explain that I’m just done with performing.  Of course, that got me ridiculed all night!

Leah dominated the FoCo open-mic and was the only comic to get a spot at a showcase scheduled for later that evening.  KRand and I wanted to show Leah the Denver-scene, so Leah gracefully declined her title, and we drove back down to Denver for open-mic at the Lion’s Lair, which is conveniently located across the street from my APT.

Of course, she dominated, and after a bit of mingling, we said our goodbyes to KRand and walked home.  I pulled out the sofabed, and we quickly said our “goodnights.”

In the morning, I found a note and a bouncy ball.  See, Leah has a thing for bouncy balls, and she’s been dropping them all over the country on her trip to LaLaland.  She dropped one in Cheeseman, Fort Collins, and at my APT.  The note was sweet and encouraging, but the bouncy ball sent me a stronger message: bounce on….

Whit