Colorado: King Soopers

 This is a King Soopers:

It's the King Soopers in Denver on University and Hampden, to be precise. And what is a King Soopers? It is a grocery store born and bred in Colorado and a great place to buy all the essentials. Here is what I bought on the trip to the King Soopers you see in the picture: potato chips, Pringles, chocolate bars, Kind bars, toilet paper, and paper towels.

My roommate, Meredith, had the fabulous idea that I should visit a local grocery store wherever I go on my travels in order to experience life like a local. That is why I'm posting about King Soopers although, to be honest, I don't typically shop there anymore. My feeling is, if you're going to do something in every state, it's important to start off on the right foot and continue obsessing till the very end.

The King Soopers in our neighborhood, unlike the one pictured above, is sketchy. There's always a security guard standing watch at the door, which sends a clear message that many shoppers there are untrustworthy. One time we were browsing for Christmas trees in front of the store and a guy who was clearly on drugs struck up a conversation--and I don't mean to slight people on drugs, but the issue is, you never know exactly what they will do. I paid for the Christmas tree, Meredith used her super strength to hoist in on my car, and we beat a hasty retreat.

We used to live right next to the King Soopers in question, so in the interest of walking to get groceries (a pastime I enjoy when I can manage it) I would go there. Now that we live a mile away, I drive the extra block to Safeway, which for some reason is less sketchy even though it's just on the opposite side of Krameria St. Or I go to Trader Joe's because it has GREAT snacks, although I never buy sponges or dish soap there.

All that said, if you are in Denver and looking to experience life as a local, I would recommend King Soopers.

Everybody's Dog Is Mine!

Less than two weeks till I depart on my adventure! One of the ways I'm finding places to stay is by searching a housesitting site for where I want to go--and I'm finding some great gigs. The best part is, I've wanted a dog for a long time, and this way I get to hang out with other people's dogs for a couple weeks at a time and sort of pretend they're mine!

Yard Sale

 A yard sale is a roller coaster of emotions and probably should not be undertaken by anyone insecure. Fortunately, I had the gumption to undertake such a project on Saturday, so regardless of your level of security you can understand what it's like.

First of all, you lay out all the possessions you want to sell in your yard, lovingly, because after all they are yours. You recall all the times you used them and start to rethink whether you should let them go. You arrange them in a way that you think will show how many cool items you have to sell, because you are such a cool and unique person.

Then you wait for people to come. This is like throwing a party when you don't have friends. Will anyone come? Some people drive by in their cars, slow down, and then drive away. You give them a friendly wave as if it doesn't matter to you at all whether anyone comes and buys your beautiful things.

People arrive. They ask, "How much for this?" because you are the laziest person in the world and didn't put price tags on everything. You justify this to yourself and others by saying that this way people will for sure leave with anything that strikes their fancy. And in fact, you notice that getting items into people's hands is the best way to sell them--once someone touches something, they are very likely to purchase it. This is an interesting psychological tidbit to save for later, in case it may be useful to you in the future.

Two women roll up in a Lexus SUV. You immediately question whether they could want anything you have to offer, because not only their car but also their plastic surgery indicates their socioeconomic status to be above yours. One of the ladies rummages through your jewelry and eventually picks out a real silver bracelet and ring. You say, "Five dollars?" The lady purses her lips at you, so you revert to your "name your price" policy. "Three dollars," she says with finality.

You sit in your yard. For a long time. Fortunately, first thing in the morning you had put up a canopy tent to protect you (and all the stuff) from the blistering sun. This doesn't protect you from the blistering boredom and your allergies to grass pollen; you're sitting close to the grass. You eat two thirds of a can of sour cream and onion Pringles.

Finally, the yard sale comes to an end, by which I mean you reach the worst part of the whole day: in the hot sun you have to put away everything that didn't sell, which is most things. You hoist the furniture back into your home with disappointment--you didn't even sell the furniture items. You box and bag up all the other items and place them in their new home, the back of your car. Lastly you take down the canopy tent and attempt to cram it back into its case, which could be a post in itself.

So there you go, 5 hours and $50 later, you've had a yard sale. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Heart

 Today I state my belief: there is plenty of love for me! I do not need to seek love, I already have it, have his Heart. This world, and my own little, beautiful life, was created by a Heart that loves us deeply and we continue in this love. I don't fear losing love, nor do I fear it increasing, even if it means I must decrease.

Glorified Homelessness

 Yesterday I went for an afternoon walk in my Denver neighborhood, as I often do, as I will soon do in places other than Denver. On my street I saw a man with a beard, a pack, and a bedroll attached to the bottom--an urban camper. This wasn't the first time I had seen him, but it struck me: I'm about to be more like him than I am like my "normal" or current self, living in a snug little garden level apartment.

Or am I? I'm going to be staying indoors, at places with kitchens, bathrooms, and beds. I'm going to spend a significant amount of money on lodging. I'll be very comfortable; bougie, one might say.

But the feeling of not having a home, the feeling of wandering, walking, not staying in one place for too long. That's what I'll have in common with this man. The feeling of traveling, of visiting, of not quite assimilating. The feeling of packing all your possessions into a form convenient for moving along. And not having a home base.

Concerning Hobbits

 Last night was my best friend's birthday party, and true to form, we had a theme and the theme was awesome: Hobbits! Like in The Lord of the Rings, there were heaps of food, families and children running around, games, presents, fireworks--pretty much anything one could want. Best of all, one of the hosts made a papier-mâché hobbit hole door!

Really, it's impossible to think of leaving Denver when surrounded by such wonderful friends and experiencing the comfort and merriment you can only have at parties where you know people so well that you can wander and converse freely. I told them my plans but the plans were like a thought bubble, not something substantial or tangible like the charcuterie board I assembled.

In the middle of the party, Pauline gave a speech, mirroring Bilbo's speech but without the disappearance. We cheered and booed appropriately. I suppose I'm the one who's disappearing. That feels a bit strange--but maybe it will be "there and back again."

Colorado: The Incline

Today I went with my friend Kelly to hike the Manitou Incline. The defining feature of the Incline is its 2,768 stairs and I'm inclined to say that's a few too many stairs. In fact, as a hike, this one rates poorly compared to almost any other hike I've done in Colorado. I knew this going in, and having lived nine years in this state, I consider myself as having held out as long as possible before joining in this much-hyped form of group fitness. It was time.

As a matter of fact, it is a local custom to hike the Incline, and like many local customs can seem barbaric to an outsider. To Coloradans, it is a rite of passage. At the top we met a group of women whose very purpose was to help other women train for and complete the Incline. Judging by the Saturday turnout, even with limited capacity, it seemed a lot of people are inclined to do this hike.

Naturally, I wanted to get to the top, and with my friend Kelly's expert guidance (she has hiked the Incline multiple times) I achieved the goal. It didn't matter that you couldn't see snow-capped mountains from the top, or that because of the limited shade, the sun shone on me continuously as I climbed, drying my sweat and masking how dehydrated I gradually became: I made it. By climbing all these stairs, it can't be doubted that I got more fit. In Colorado, we relish climbing sunny sets of stairs for fitness purposes.

In closing, the hike down on the Barr Trail was rather nice and included more of the views to which I have grown accustomed and rather inclined. I was grateful for the extra insulated water bottle I had stashed in the car as I finished both of my 1L Nalgenes (one filled with Nuun-infested water) on the hike. I'd recommend the Incline to anyone, five out five stars.

Spiritual Preparation

 I reached for a new spiritual reading selection and found myself gravitating towards Sober Intoxication of the Spirit. Not only does the book align nicely with the feast and season of Pentecost, but also I really like the title. It encapsulates how I've been feeling lately: a little woozy, inebriated, yet happy!

To be clear, the book isn't promoting drunkenness and neither am I (in fact, I'm thinking about fasting from alcohol during my nomadic travels), but the idea of being led by the Spirit of God is that you don't quite know what's going on but you're all right with that. And in my spiritual preparation for setting out, that's what I'd like to cultivate. I'm all right with the uncertainty. I'm secure in the fact that God is with me.

I've always been struck by the verse, "[D]o not be anxious beforehand what you are to say; but say whatever is given you in that hour, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit" (Mark 13:11b). I'm always thinking ahead of time what I should do or say, it's like a reflex. What would it look like to let go of that kind of preparation and instead let the Holy Spirit do something amazing through me?

States of Mind

 I have a friend, let's call her Angela. Her name is actually Angela. In any case, we got to talking and she revealed that she, like me, has been to most of the fifty states of the United States. Our totals were pretty close: she's been to 43, I've been to 41.

I think it's worth mentioning that she considers herself as having been to Iowa, but she apparently just passed through Iowa. That's not how I count. Not that I'm judging, but I've definitely been to a place of business in every state I've been to, and I don't count the airport either. I've been to the Minneapolis Airport but for the sake of an accurate and fair count I do not include Minnesota among the states I have visited. I just thought that was worth saying. 

She also mentioned something sketchy about swimming in the waters in Maine, which I won't let myself be concerned about right now.

So Angela and I joked about who would get to 50 states first, at least we seemed to be joking. I wasn't joking. She mentioned that we should go to Hawaii together to get our last state. Yeah, that's not going to happen.

Here are the states I haven't been to yet:

1. Hawaii
2. Alaska
3. North Dakota
4. South Dakota
5. Minnesota
6. Michigan
7. Vermont
8. Rhode Island
9. Maine

This is going to explain an adjustment I just made to the route to the first destination of my Grand Tour: Milwaukee. By way of South Dakota and Minnesota. I love the USA and I am going to beat Angela to 50 states, and that's important for you to know as I set out on a potentially life-changing journey. 

PS If you are ever driving through Iowa, it's worth stopping at the Outlets in Williamsburg, IA for a relaxing shopping experience: