The Myth & The Majesty

A year ago at Christmas, Mia Sorella and Jay announced that they were engaged . Plans immediately started to figure out when the wedding would actually be -- and possibly more importantly, where. After a fair bit of discussion, they decided to go with a traditional Korean wedding first, followed by an American wedding (or at least a reception) when they got moved to the States. We started budgeting and planning for a spring trip to Korea ... and then Jay suggested they just get on with it and at some point in the summer Mia Sorella emailed and asked, "What about a Christmas trip to Korea?" So it was that I found myself in Denver a couple days before Christmas and on a plane on Christmas morning. We were all flying at the same time, Shorty and I on one plane and the 'rents on another. We landed first, had a rather joyful reunion with Janette and Jay, and after some desperately needed chicken and beer grabbed Mom and Dad and headed home. With that, w

I know, I know. I should try to stay on topic. Korea. All that. But I was sorting through some of the pictures on my computer and I came across this. Which sent me down a blogging rabbit trail. You see, this picture says a lot more than it seems. First, it tells me that yes, I have lost weight since moving here. It also shows me the people that I previously only identified as "My Brother's Friends" but now consider pretty much my friends as well. And apparently my Summer Shadow started that gig earlier than I realized. (Finally! I have a blog name for her!) But it shows something else, something I already knew to be true. Something I once thought might be shifting but ... well, it isn't. I really, really prefer my personal bubble to remain intact. It's true. At nearly thirty years old, I'm still too socially awkward for hugging. And while I know the people in this photo particularly well (I mean, one of them is my brother, for crying out loud

Alright. So... A month ago I ran off to a foreign country for my sister's wedding. And then I did something weird and never mentioned it again on here. No reason. I intend to write. It just hasn't happened yet. But I haven't decided exactly how I want to do that, so this evening I'm going to give you a few ideas of what my week in Korea was like. If I do this right, you'll see all of these pictures again, hopefully in context. Or at least a little more so. Because this was my family, it seemed to mostly revolve around food. And coffee. We're a bunch of addicts. There was, of course, some sightseeing. And ... other stuff. But most importantly, there was a wedding.  I really want to do this thing justice, though, so that's all you're getting for now. Stay tuned.

As a lifelong awkward person ... yes. Read this.

Yesterday, I got to witness something ... unique. A year and a half ago, I posted a little bit about the pine beetle infestation going on out here in the Hills. In the time since then, I've seen nothing but spread -- more hills taken, more trees wiped off the face of the earth, more and more cleanup necessary. For several years now, it has been as constant a source of conversation and vexation as the weather. And it has been interesting to see the steps taken, from professional control companies to tree thinning, from the battles over what can be done in the national forest areas to the arguments made by private landowners. It has been equally interesting to see the region's population pull together on this one. While we can recognize the cycle, no one wants to see their Hills wiped out by a dang bug. As such, yesterday there was ... a funeral. It had been a year in the making. A group of residents had gathered to form the Bark Beetle Blues with the aim to "c

I live in a neighborhood like any other. Alright, fine. That's not entirely accurate. But as I gave the perspective on time a few months back, I thought maybe I could give a perspective on place when it comes to life at a camp. So. My neighborhood is fairly normal, especially if you look at it from a small town perspective. I live in a cul-de-sac with two other households. Like most suburban neighborhoods, it's usually fairly quiet. We can keep an eye on each other's pets when someone goes out of town. I can borrow a cup of sugar from my next door neighbor, too. I've got the corner grocery store that doesn't have everything but can get me through the week. The post office isn't open all hours but it gets the job done. There's even a gas station ... if I've got an emergency, and a mechanic if something basic goes wrong with my car. There's even a park, complete with a playground and places for me to go for a walk. And of course, let's not

Do you believe in ghosts? It's a simple enough question. Do you? Do you think that some people, for one reason or another, linger here after death? Leave behind an energy that cannot be fully explained? I ask this because until fairly recently, I would have rolled my eyes at such a question. But living in the Hills has certain risks, and one of those is a direct challenge to such skepticism. The Black Hills are considered a sacred place by the local Lakota tribes, alive with an energy not found everywhere. Maybe it started centuries ago; maybe it has more to do with the violent history surrounding the European settlement here. When white folks first found their way into the Hills, they were first fought off and later (through various treaties) banned from the area. It wasn't until the discovery of gold (we're in the 1870s or so by now) that the area was flooded with would-be settlers looking for riches. Towns sprang up, places with no law and no legal existence (r

Yes, it's that time of year again. A time to reflect on the year that has passed and look forward to the year ahead. A time to regroup, if necessary. Yep. In my newly found zest for this time of year (or maybe because it's cold and rainy outside I figured I should work on things inside instead), I've managed to finish my 101 Things/1001 Days list. And ... I've got my work cut out for me. It could be summarized as a collection of lesses and mores. Less junk food. Because I, like millions of Americans, like the fried and sugary things in life. Less junk drink. Because I, like millions of Americans, like the carbonated and sugary things in life. (Hmm. A trend.) Less wasted time. Specifically, less time spent cursing the Internet and telling it to grow up and move out of its mother's basement, stop feeding off ridiculous cat videos, and give up its nasty habit of drinking the bitterness of the self-righteous anger of an entire generation unable to use p

I just ended a bona fide 40-hour day, having woken up in Seoul (on the morning of the 31st) and now finding myself on my brother's couch in Denver. After a year of ... well, not much (which in this case isn't so bad), it seemed only appropriate to give it a wacky ending. And so with a strange cocktail of caffeine and jet lag, I'd like to wish you all a happy 2014. May it prove to be everything you hope for and more.