And in the end…there is love.

Dear Colorado,
Listen, I understood when I moved here, that your state is a cold one. Lots of snow. A long winter. Whatever. But listen, I will fight you for September. September is supposed be that month when summer slowly eases into fall. But this weekend, I experienced changing leaves and dropping temperatures. My apartment complex even put up the fall flags. But it’s too early! You held onto winter until May. Let me have September. At least until September 23, when fall officially begins.

Still wearing shorts in Colorado

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Dear Weird Man on the Hiking Trail,
Listen, you dirty, disgusting man. Don’t EVER talk to me while I’m walking again. Don’t trick me with your friendliness, then say gross things to me. Then, don’t act surprised when I express my disgust. I will NOT let you ruin my favorite place to walk. I will simply mace you in your stinkin’ face if you ever talk to me again.

Your Mace-Carrying Enemy

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My friend at the Ethiopian restaurant,
Rarely do I eat so much food that I can’t identify, but yet, love. There’s something freeing about no utensils or plates. About scooping up bites of yumminess with bread. Of letting food sit in my mouth as I try to identify it. Of eating something so spicy that it literally makes me cough. But going back for more because it’s that good. Food so good that I’m actually doing a little dance in my seat as I eat it.

Your injera-filled friend