Two-Month Update (aka: State of the kcterrilynn Address)

I'm here...I'm alive...no need to send out a search party...wait, seriously, who'm I kidding, saying no to a party? As long as there are cocktails, I guess a search party is okay. I'll bring the ice.

• Don't believe the crap about horrible Denver winters. One day, 10 inches of snow and a snow day for grown-ups, next day, sunshine and no snow in sight.
• Park in downtown Denver at your own risk. If the parking Nazi's catch the shadow of your car on the dividing line between two parallel parking spaces it'll cost you $20. Just ask me about it and I'll be glad to tell you. Using various bad words. Words that make my mother give me the 'look.' (Sorry, Mere, but it fuckin' pissed me off!)
• (This one's for you, Chris) Of my own free will, I've started drinking Coors Light. On tap. I don't know if it's because I'm poor or if there's some subliminal thing going on, but it's true.
• I've also started drinking PBR (but not PBR in a can). I know. You don't need to say it. I blame Matt. He puts a lime in it and calls it a PBRona. And it's not horrible.
• In KC I didn't make my bed for weeks (months...okay, years) at a time, but since I moved, I'm making the damn thing every morning. What the hell is that about? (It's true, Mom, don't think I can't see you shaking your head.)
• Slowly but surely I'm finding my way around. I know which highways lead me to downtown (work), Arvada (home), Golden (drinking), or Boulder (shopping). You know, the important things in life.
• I now recoginze my car with Colorado plates and no longer pass by it in parking lots. Hell, I even cussed out a driver from Missouri last week for cutting me off. (Not that that's any different from living in KC...Kansas drivers cussed out Missouri drivers all the time. And vice versa.)
• I've never seen so many hot, scruffy, Harley riding men in all my life. Nor have I seen so many hot, bald, Harley riding men in all my life. Not to mention all the hot, long-haired, hippie, tree loving, granola men and the hot, clean-cut, college preppy types. Damn, there are good-looking men everywhere! Seriously, all you ladies should come to Denver. Plenty o' eye-candy. Or I could be oxygen starved into thinking all the guys are hot.
• After months of enjoying smoke-free clubs, I spent last Friday night at the only bar in Denver where you can smoke inside...a strip club called PT's. (It was Matt's birthday and his call on where we celebrated.)
• A first: I wore a do-rag in public. And looked damn good, if I do say so myself.

All in all, things are going okay. And kcterrilynn is alright. Sad sometimes, happy sometimes, drunk sometimes. It's just like home.