God bless America! My home sweet home. It's so good to be here. The sunset was beautiful yesterday morning as I landed in Newark for a quick layover on my way to Denver. On top of that, customs was kind enough to let me right through with no hassle and no waiting.
I made it to Denver without any incident and my sister, Marissa, actually remembered to pick me up at the airport. And on time too. Put that in the record books.
For those of you who aren't down with the Colorado terminology, these are not mountains. They are the Flatirons. I guess they're supposed to look like old school irons on their side. I don't see it. It must be all that hippie stuff they smoke out here.
Straight from the airport we headed down to Pearl Street right in the heart of Boulder. It's a super cool outdoor mall full of people, shops, food, and performances. I was starving and while it was morning in Denver it was late afternoon on my internal clock that was 3 hours ahead and had been awake since the wee hours of the morning.
On our way to lunch we came across this street performer; a crazy contortionist from the Caribbean island of St. Christopher.
He shamlessly yelled at passer-byers to, "Stop and watch so I have a crowd and look professional!"
He then proceeded to bend himself in half and dive into a 14 inch diameter tube. Think about how small that makes his waist.
He slid the tube over his entire body and then announced, "I am back, I am better, and I am sober!"
Then he twisted himself up like a pretzel and wedged himself into a 22 inch box. But before he did that he informed us not to call 911 in the event of him getting stuck because he doesn't have insurance.
Marissa and I would have hung around to witness more of the spectacle but my blood sugar was plummeting by the minute.
Did no one get the memo that we were in a hurry to find lunch so we could get back to Marissa's apartment and start cleaning and packing? Why must this man be so entertaining on his ladder with no hands? Seriously, I couldn't watch. I had visions of broken necks and ambulances.
Eventually we made it back to the chaos that my sister calls an apartment. Several hours of dismantling and unclogging but the vacuum was finally back in business and the cleaning commenced.
I don't know where on Earth she scrounged up a grocery cart but we used the hell out of it. It's carried trash to the dumpster...
It served as a ladder so I could reach to spackle the curtain rod holes. At $5 per hole I figured it was worth the risk...there were a lot of holes. About 2 per object hung -- someone needs to learn proper measuring techniques.
And the trusty, albeit ghetto, cart carried clothes to the car. Yes, those are clothes in the trash bags. Not to be confused with garbage. Straight K.L.A.S.S around here.
Marissa was not all that impressed with the amount of work that had to be done. Manual labor and cleaning just isn't her thing.
But we did have fun making shadow puppets when we were supposed to be packing the car. That is our shadow version of gangsta life.
Although she hired a moving company to haul the furniture off to the East Coast, there is still a ginormous amount of her crap that needs to get in the car. The solution? A Roof Bag -- Simple, durable, rubber, and reasonably priced ($125 new). The perfect roof top carrier. Thank the Lord is was easy to attach and pack because someone decided to act like a 10 year old and climb inside it and fool around.
Alas, all is well and everything is packed. We're heading to Iowa tomorrow for the first leg of the trip...stay tuned!
Saturday workout: Does sitting on an airplane count?
Sunday workout: Cardio - 45 minutes, Weights - biceps and shoulders