mountaincountrycity girl.

I was born and raised in Kansas. Not on a farm, but in several different towns, ranging from the college town where I was born to the Kansas City suburb to the central-state county seat to the town of 3,000 where my dad grew up. Each has a distinctive vibe and offers a different view of a state most people associate with Dorothy, a church full of bigoted jerkwads that I refuse to even mention by name, and tornadoes. I was never much of a country girl, save for a few rides on horses here and there. Really, I've always been more of a city girl who knows how to camp. Though I do enjoy cowboy boots and I have been run over by a four-wheeler, so I have a little country girl cred.

When I was 4 years old, my grandparents took me to Colorado for a road trip. I vaguely remember being overwhelmed by the looming Rockies. It was several years before I went back, but I remained awed and drawn in by the mountains. I saw the ocean for the first time a few years later, and that image of an expanse of water as far as my eyes could see remained with me as well. When I was 12, I went to Chicago. I ate it up, loving the architecture and the buzz and the lakefront. It was so exciting and busy, and my pre-teen self said "self, you will live in this city some day." I knew I was made for Chicago, and vice versa.

I lived there for longer than I lived anywhere else: Eight years. People ask me where I'm from, and I tell them Chicago more than half the time. It's not that I don't love Kansas in its own way, but Chicago became such a part of my identity. It's MY city, and I am a part of it as well. If Chicago had mountains, or an ocean (the lake SO does not count), I can't imagine we would have left it.

My theory used to be that I was half city mouse and half country mouse, still appreciating a sweeping field of wheat and in love with the idea of having goats some day. About a month ago, I realized that I'm about two-thirds city mouse and one-third mountain mouse. That ratio can change from day to day, but I really do need those mountains in my life right now, even if Portland might be a little too friendly for me. I had better not lose my edge with all this niceness around me!

whirlwindy.

I'm wiped out. Why, you ask? Well, being in a crazy, three-day Indian wedding festival (I don't know how else to describe it), hanging out with my besties, flying halfway across the country and back, barely sleeping, and arriving to a very sick dog has taken all of my pep.

Did I mention the part about the sick dog? And that I haven't slept since Monday night because he was up, moving around and stretching, trying to get comfortable with a tummy ache? Also the fact that I picked him up from his boarding facility yesterday morning COVERED IN POOP, have given him two baths, and spent nearly $200 at the vet to get him some antibiotics. I'm a bit grouchy and exhausted.

Anyway, it was an awesome, fun, crazy, bittersweet, eye-opening-in-some-ways weekend. And, I got my first henna designs:

Should have taken a picture of it after it darkened, and now it's fading rapidly. Darn. It's pretty cool, but I've been self-conscious about it when outside of the wedding party. I got to wear a sari and a bindi, eat tons of food I've never tried before, and meet and see some awesome people. Plus, I got some:

Garrett Popcorn. Chicago mix. This stuff is the business. I remember the first time I had it. My mom was staying with me in Chicago, and I came home from work to find her on the couch, watching TV, gobbling popcorn and drinking champagne. (This explains so much about why I am who I am.) She said she had just been walking by a Garrett's store, saw the line, and thought she'd try it. The lady in front of her informed her she "got to get the mix." So with great trepidation she did, and we scarfed it like maniacs. Who knew that slightly soggy cheese popcorn and sweet, crunchy caramel corn could make such an awesome pair? 

These tiny bags were in our in-room gift bags, and oh my gosh, I've been rationing it. And not sharing. The hubs gets NONE.