Territory Days

Territory Days is an annual weekend event in Colorado Springs. It's a street fair of sorts that includes beer gardens, food, local vendors and concerts. Every summer the streets of Old Colorado City, the oldest part of Colorado Springs, shut down for a weekend to play host to the event. I have no idea what we are celebrating, but it servers as a pretty decent excuse for the locals to enjoy nice weather, good food, and of course, beer.

This year my friend Jessi asked me to go with her to the Thompson Square concert. They were this weekend's headline band. Plus, who doesn't love an outdoor concert on a gorgeous, Sunday afternoon with a giant bag of kettle corn?

Before the concert we checked out the vendors. We had to stop for some home brewed root beer...

While we listed to this guy...

And when I looked up I realized I was sitting right on the stoop of this place...

Typical day in the life of a Coloradan.

Screwed

In March I bought a house. Having a house is terrifying and exciting all at the same time. Although my house was technically move-in-ready, I knew there would be a lot of work involved in transforming it into my home. Turns out it isn't as easy as they make it look on HGTV. But hey, you'll never know if you don't try

One of the first big projects was by bedroom. For some reason the previous owner thought it was a great idea to mount a TV on the wall of the master bedroom. That sounds great, if I was living in a hospital room with a 10 inch TV screen. Seeing as how I'm not, this thing had to go.

Note: The hole in the wall was not there when I started, keep reading to find out how that got there.

I thought this whole thing would be pretty simple, but after I realized the 3 inch screws were stripped, life got more interesting. My first brilliant idea was to ask the experts, so it was off to Lowe's where they sold me this magic drill bit that was supposed to remove screws with a stripped head. That didn't do a darn thing. Strike 1 and a waste of $7.

A friend suggested I screw a drill bit about the same size as the screw straight into the head until the whole screw broke and fell out of the hole. The only thing that broke was my drill bit. Strike 2 and I still need to buy a new bit.

After that my crushed pride got the best of me. Desperation set in and suddenly a saw was in my hand and I was hacking a hole into the wall. If I couldn't get the screws out, I was going to cut out the whole darn thing. Turns out, they drilled that sucker straight into the studs and there was not cutting it out, but I did have a nice hole in my wall to show for my 3rd strike.

The next few nights were rough. Every night as I laid in bed, staring at the wall mount and I knew it was laughing at me, mocking me for my failure. But I would not let this thing beat me. I just laid there in disdain as I plotted my next move.

If I couldn't cut the mount out of the wall, I was willing to settle for cutting the screws in half to restore at least some of my dignity. A friend at work offered me his rotary tool. These screws were going to die a painful death and I was going to love every moment of it. I started in as soon as I got home. The sparks were literally flying. After breaking four blades and my room smelled like the 4th of July came a few months early, I was too scared to keep going. I decided to take a few minutes to open a window and of course tweet about strike #4, what every young American does when they are feeling vulnerable, profound, or confused out of their mind. This was turing into 5 year-old t-ball, just keep swinging until you finally hit something. The good news is that some people get my tweets texted straight to their phone, so it was only a matter of seconds before I had a text from a concerned friend. He told me to stop right away before I killed myself or burned my house down. I was instructed to put the power tools down, watch something on Netflix, and call it a night.

Enter my friend, and hero of the hour, Michael. It was time to bring in the big guns. Michael, his 18 volt drill, and saw came over the next afternoon. I wished him good luck and he made his way back to the bedroom. I went back there a few minutes later to find him pulling out the final screw. He pulled them out with his drill like it was nothing. Michael swore to me that it wasn't my fault and that I just didn't have the right tool. At that point I was so thrilled I didn't even care. I wanted to hang the mount on the wall as a source of pride and accomplishment, like a diploma or a deer head. But then again, the point of this all out war was to get the stupid thing off the wall so it seemed a little silly to put it back up there. Maybe I will hang it in the garage.

The mount was off the wall, but there was still the issue of the hole. Thanks to a little spacial, a giant wall patch, and a few instructional videos on YouTube, I was back in business. After a coat of new (not yellow) paint, it looked like nothing ever happened. The war was won. Bob Vila, you better watch yourself.

What can you do but laugh?

Yesterday was just a rough day of work and I was called on to send several important communication pieces to a lot of people throughout the organization without a lot of time to really craft my thoughts. By 5:00 my brain was fried, but one final email had to be sent. I was nervous about the state of my brain so I asked a co-worker to read over it before I hit the send button of no return.

Next time I'll have someone else proof my important emails. Can you catch the mistake in the excerpt? I bet you can...along with every NavPress employee, Student Life employee, and my boss who received it.What can you do? Sometimes you just have to laugh it off. Remember that one time I referred to our department's "incontinence" in an email sent to half our employees? Yeah, good times.

To add to the comedy of my morning, I received the following phone call
Ring, ring ring...
Me: This is Danielle.
Guy: Is this a real human being?
Me: Umm....yes it is. Can I help you with something?
Guy: Yeah, I have some questions about my services.
Me: Umm...I think you have the wrong number. This is The Navigators, a nonprofit in Colorado Springs. Who are you trying to reach?
Guy: Waste Management. Do you know what that is?
Me: Yes sir I do. I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong number.
Guy: Well, I don't know how the hell I got you, but now that I have you I'm going to tell you my problem anyway... continues to talk about the waste management company sending him "pornographic paraphernalia"...I just don't know what to do. What do you think? Should I call the police?
Me: I don't really know what to tell you. I'm sorry I can't help you.
Guy: Well, that's ok. I feel better about it.
Me: Have a great day.
Click.

What can you do? Sometimes you just have to laugh it off. Just another day...

Does that make me pretentious?

I've been in Colorado Springs for a year and a half now and although my life is shaping up quite nicely, there is still one big thing missing...a gym membership. Today I became the newest member of LifeTime Fitness. Although it wasn't nearly as difficult as finding a church, joining a gym was an interesting journey.

So why now? Well, I notice a considerable difference in my overall outlook and mood when I'm working out compared to when I spend my evenings reading, playing on the Internet, or watching Netflix. Also, I was roped into competing in a race this fall and if I'm going to meet my goal of not dyeing then I need to start conditioning.

I am normally pretty thrifty (which is the nice way of saying cheap) and I'm extremely careful about my money. However, there are certain things in life I am willing to break the bank for and a gym membership is one of them. After a few weeks of cost vs. benefit analysis I narrowed my search to two viable options, Villa Sport and LifeTime Fitness.

First up was LifeTime Fitness. They just finished building the new facility about two months ago and when I went for a tour it took almost 40 minutes just to find a parking spot. When I walked in the door, the full spa, cafe and lounge area wowed me right away. A young girl who looked about my age took me to a little office area to talk about my expectations and needs. The preliminary questions led me to explain to her that I am from Florida. When I told her I went to Texas Tech she stared at me like a five year old who just found out there is no Santa Clause. After a few awkward minutes she started to verbalize her confusion:

Gym Consultant: I'm really surprised, you just seem to nice.

Me: Ok, why does that surprise you?

Gym Consultant: Well, you said you went to Tech and I didn't know nice people went to Tech. I have been told that everyone who goes there is mean.

Me: Well, I think there are a lot of nice people who go to Tech. Where did you go to college?

Gym Consultant: I went to A&M and we don't like you very much.

Me: Well, we don't like you much either.

The poor girl stayed in shock for the next 30 minutes as she gave me a tour of the gym. Every five minutes she would stop, shake her head, and mutter something about how nice I was. However, the tour led us to the indoor tennis courts, rock wall, endless list of classes, indoor/outdoor pools and Jacuzzis, water slide, and locker rooms that are more like self-serve spas.

After the tour it was off to Villa. Quite a few families at church rave about Villa and if LifeTime was this great, I couldn't imagine what was in store at the gym a few miles down the road. Villa wasn't nearly as busy, but it was nice and the people seemed friendly enough. A lady took me on a tour and they had all the same impressive amenities as LifeTime. However, it just seemed older and a little more pretentious. They took the opportunity to bash LifeTime at every turn, and to be fair, the sweet girl at LifeTime did her fair share of bashing, but it wasn't nearly as intense. The Villa consultant also spent a considerable amount of time bragging about their full liquor license and swim-up bar. Umm...excuse me? Please don't act like that is normal. When I asked about their options for classes the lady told me the best time to come is in the middle of the day. I told her that would create a problem considering I WORK in the middle of the day. Come on folks, I can't come in the middle of the day. How do you think I can afford your $75/month membership?

I got home and decided to ask my roommate about her gym. She is a loyal member of the YMCA and goes to classes there at least twice a week.

Me: So I'm thinking about joining either LifeTime or Villa, what do you think?

Roommate: Doesn't it bother you that you can get Botox at the same place you are working out?

Me: Umm, not really. Should it?

Roommate: I love the Y and I really believe in their mission.

Me: I guess I've never really considered the mission of my gym. I think I believe in amenities.

I figured that was not the time to tell my roommate about the liquor license and swim-up bar. Little did she know that not only can I get Botox, but I can sit in the pool and have a margarita afterward.

However, I have to admit, the idea that this whole thing was totally pretentious and crazy had crossed my mind about a thousand times so I started the Villa vs. LifeTime debate at work via Yammer, our internal communication tool.

Me: Villa vs. LifeTime....thoughts?

Guy I Work With: I heard the Villa at Lifetime is a great place to have a wedding in Westminister, CA.

The next day our boss told me he heard I was getting married.

Needless to say, after many hours of thought and consideration, a decision was made. The fact that LifeTime is brand new, open 24/7, has the rock wall, and more options in classes were the factors that pushed it over the edge.

Currently, joining LifeTime instead of Villa put me in the same category as Judas with my church family. However, I'm hoping that one day they will see me as more of a Paul, a missionary to LifeTime...

If you had one day to live, who would you spend it with?

According to some 89 year old crazy man in California, today is supposed to be my last day on earth. Naturally I wanted to spend it with one of the sweetest guys I know. Meet my friend Noah.

Noah's Birthday was this week and I promised him a special Birthday date, just me and him. I surprised him with a trip to the zoo.

The weather was perfect and luckily most people found more exciting places to spend their last day on earth so there was barely anyone there.

As soon as we got there we made a b-line to the giraffes. Noah wasn't too keen on feeding them, probably because their tongues looked like this...

After a few minutes, I convinced Noah to feed the baby giraffe...
but after feeding him one cracker, he was ready to move on to a new exhibit.

Noah was much more comfortable posing in front of this giraffe.

The mountain lions were asleep, but Noah was sure to show me what they look like in attack mode.

Noah begged me to let him ride the carousel. I have a hard time telling that sweet face "no," and seeing as how this was his special Birthday date, he got whatever he wanted.

The grizzly bears were one of my favorites. You have to climb up into the mountain to see them, but it was well worth it.
You get to walk right up to the glass and watch the grizzlies fish for their lunch. The whole time I was secretly hoping he wouldn't get a fish. All the kids seemed so excited, but I bet that excitement would fade really quickly if they actually watched this giant bear catch, mutilate and eat one of those little fish. Luckily, the bear got sidetracked with a toy and the fish lived to see another day.Noah was more excited about the fish then he was the bear. He told me that if he was inside the cage he would jump in the water, catch the fish, and throw them into a bucket so the bear could not get them. He also said he wanted a pet hippopotamus so that he could train it to fight bad guys.

Next up were the tigers. We managed to time it almost perfectly so that we got to see the "Tiger Show." I'm seriously considering writing the zoo a letter because I would not consider a 20 something girl throwing raw meet into his cage a "show," but at least the tiger got close enough for me to get this picture.
Noah was way more interested in becoming a tiger then he was in the tiger feeding. Honestly, I can't say I blame him.

Noah may have been intimidated by giraffes, but he was all about feeding the birds. He was so sweet and patient with them. We would have stayed in there feeding birds all day if I could stand it. About 45 minutes into feeding them I finally told Noah we needed to, "Give other kids the chance to feed them." I remember my parents saying that to me when I was a kid. I used to think it was to teach me the importance of sharing, but now I'm starting to wonder if they too were just bored with our latest obsession.

Right after pulling Noah away from the birds, we went to see the wallabies. As we were looking at them, an older lady came up to me and mentioned there was a baby one further down the path that Noah could pet. She was right. Just a few feet away the sweetest old man was holding a baby wallaby wrapped in a blanket in his lap. The man pulled Noah right up on the bench next to him so that he could pet it.

Next it was time for a little snack. Mmmm, chocolate!

Our final stop for the day was the reptile house. I was praying all day that Noah would forget about the need to see the snakes, but he just kept asking.

To say that I am scared of snakes is the understatement of the year. I am deathly terrified. In fact, just looking at this picture makes my heart think we are running a marathon. On my family vacations any snake exhibit is totally off limits. At theme parks my Dad is the one who holds everyone's stuff while we ride the roller coasters, and at zoo's, I am the one who gets a snack and stands outside the snake house until everyone is done. One time my parents forced me to go inside and I started hyperventilating. My mom had to practically carry me out, eyes closed with tears running down my face. I would love to tell you I was five, but I think I was closer to thirteen.

As Noah and I walked up one of the million hills at the zoo to the snake house I kept tying to convince myself that there was nothing to be afraid of. The snakes are in cages, I am totally safe, and Noah really wanted to see them. As we approached the house of doom, I slowly opened the door as Noah jumped in front of me and pushed right through. I took three steps inside and noticed Noah was no longer at my side. As my eyes darted around the room I found him huddled with another boy around an older woman. Then to my terror I realized the woman was holding a live snake, HOLDING it...meaning it was not in a cage. I froze. The lady sat Noah down next to her in a great position assuming I would want a picture of him petting the snake. It was all I could do to hold the camera steady enough to get a few shots. After a few minutes Noah skipped off and asked me to go with him to see the other snakes. I would have loved to, but those cages were all sitting behind the lady holding the spawn of satan. I just couldn't make my feet walk toward it, so I told Noah the room was really crowded and that he should just go and look. He persisted, but there was no way he could win this one. I stood by the door frozen in fear, hoping he didn't notice, until he was ready to go.

When we were walking down the hill Noah asked me why I didn't pet the snake. I told him snakes are not my favorite, but he insisted the lady told him it was a nice snake. I resisted the urge to tell him the woman was a dirty liar and all snakes are miserable creatures that smell your fear from a mile away. I didn't want to be responsible for instilling terror in this sweet boy. Noah told me that he hoped next time I would pet the snake and that he hoped when I did pet a snake he could be there to see it. I think he is going to be waiting a long time...

This is how we spent most of the day. Noah holding my hand and pointing out every little detail of his day. He was never at a loss for conversation topics.

I could not have imaged or planned a better day in a more beautiful place. Happy Birthday Noah! Thank you for a great date. I love you.