@ Red Lobster w/ Family:
So this blog is to stand as a promise to myself to move to California and to somewhat document my life and experience in during this time frame, becuase at this point in my life it seems completly unreal and like it will never happen and that I will be stuck here in Denver for the rest of my life.
It's not that I hate the thought of living here for the rest of my life, had a chosen a different profession, a different life, I would absolutly love to stay here. It's beautiful here! So beautiful!! I adore this city. I adore the mountains. The sunsets, the altitude, the weather (well mostly), the people, my family, and so many other things. And I really, really love this city. I love going down to the 16th Street Mall and the Denver Pavillions and walking in the crisp, cool air. It's unlike any other air in the entire country. I love seeing the lights of the city. And the amazing skyline. They always look incredible as you are driving down I-25. Going to Coors Field, and the Pepsi Center, and of course, Mile High Staduim (I'm a true Colorado, that is in no way Invesco Field!).
When the DNC was in town this summer, I felt such an overwhelming pride for my city. The Pepsi Center and Mile High looked amazing, 16th looked amazing. And in the end, Obama was elected. I can't help but think that Denver had to be apart of it.
At the moment, I am out with my family celebrating my uncle's birthday. This is something I will truly miss. Don't get me wrong, my family has their...annoying moments, but I truly do love them and I've actually enjoyed dinner tonight. Even if it is at Red Lobster and I absolutly HATE fish!
I worry about my Grandma, what with being 85. I worry about Dad since the stroke two years ago. I worry about everyone truthfully. This is the hardest thing about my leaving. It was my biggest fear while I was away at college as well, and that was only a quick 4 hour drive away from here.
I recieved three such calls while I was there. One for Dad's heartattack in 2004. One for Dad's stroke in 2005. And one for Grandma's stroke, which was also in 2005.
In truth, I know that those calls...are inevitable. Whether I am in California, or Denver, or where ever. So in the end...I just have to go.