Finding Southwestern beauty in layovers..

This is nice--crazy, dizzying, and...bohemian- but right all the same.

First post from Denver, in a Starbucks, thanks to Marissa..

Denver.

It's right, despite showing me consecutive rainy days. Looking back at the summer, and the experiences and people that have been placed in my life- Denver is perfect.

Not in the "I'm running away from my problems and think that ANY new setting would be great", but in the "I'm running into people, places, and organizations that have similar outlooks/passions as I do". (Excuse the long sentences in quotes, I think I'm cool and feel the need to phrase things in "bunny ears")

The flight I took to Denver had a 45 minute layover (I have difficulty typing that word without laughing internally) in Phoenix, which was too short a time to actually see my family. It was strange to be in a place I know so well, and not have the "freedom" to explore the way I'm used to.

I found myself holding on to each and every familiar Arizona landscape, Papago Park--cacti--even enjoying the pink and turquoise, feathers on any available surface with leather- southwestern "motifs" which riddle much of the Sky Harbor giftshops..

I've despised the southwestern "art" since I was a small child--yet I found myself okay viewing the tacky makeshift abomination attempting to be Latin and Native American art.

It was weird, and not an experience I'd like to again have. I hope thiat was a little entertaining or you clicked on that cute little X to the right of this screen, and saved us both a headache..

Now? I'm listening to Christmas music because I'm of the rare breed that actually enjoys the lame music and can almost smell fireplaces and mexican hot chocolate in the air...

I'll have stories soon--so beware.