My Month in Colorado -- Grand Junction, Colorado

I spent a month in Colorado. A month that went by so slowly and so damn fast. A month in which I spent time reconnecting with this sister --

Jaime is currently finishing up her degree in biology. And is amazing. 

And reconnecting with this sister (who just finished making a baby). 

The baby's name is Julian Jarvis. But I think he looks like a turtle (I'm really great mom material, aren't I?), so I call him Krush. From Finding Nemo. 

Because I'm hilarious. And also, because babies do look like turtles.

The month was slow in that it was spent trying to find a place to live in Montreal. And it's rather difficult to find a place to live in a city when a) you aren't in the city, b) you're only going to be there for a short three months, and c) you haven't got any references from previous landlords to offer up as proof that you're not a destructive creeper. 

I felt extra deflated one day and posted this on facebook: 

When you're desperately trying to settle down and stop being a hobo, but realize you have none of the things needed for de-hobofication.
References from current/previous landlords: Umm... I have 128 couchsurfing references and you can check my expired workaway profile...
Proof of income: I CAN PAINT WATERCOLOR POSTCARDS AND SOMETIMES I GIVE MASSAGES AND STUFF

Proof of employment: I used to volunteer in Guatemala this one time.
Bank statements: Do you want to be that depressed?
...
I'm beginning to think that I'll always be a hobo...


Some of the responses I received to my ad on craigslist included the following:

Hi, i am seeking female live in elder care and housekeeping full time for one family member(wife) she is 45 and we live in Jersey city, NJ

Also i am seeking a discreet girlfriend for me, to have fun I am interested in building a long term relationship if things work out between us

I am 45 man from Jersey city, NJ

 

I also received a message from a fellow who asked me if I'd like to model as a mermaid in the "wild" for 500 dollars a day. Cash, paid up front.

It's a strange thing when you post an ad looking for a place to live, and you get asked to be a mermaid instead. 

Was my ad not clear enough? Are there suggestions of "I WOULD LIKE TO BE PHOTOGRAPHED AS A HALF FISH WOMAN WITH AN UNWIELDY LARGE BOSOM" found between the lines of, "looking for a room in Montreal, 450 dollars a month"? 

 Other things that made Colorado crawl by, was figuring out the paperwork I needed for the visa I'm applying for in Switzerland.

I. Hate. Paperwork. OH MY GOODNESS. It's just so cold and unforgiving. And so straightforward and strict, but without any of the straightforward answers I need to my seemingly easy questions. Like, am I allowed to visit Switzerland on a tourist visa while my other visa is processing? 

WHY IS IT SO HARD? 

... 

I have feelings about all this. 

Things that made Colorado fly by was the week of Thai massage I taught to seven intelligent, enthusiastic, compassionate ladies.

 I was finally starting to feel confident and excited, as I'd managed to find a place to live (not with New Jersey guy, as tempting as his offer was) and all my paperwork was gathered and approved by my contact at the Swiss Consulate, when I went to the dentist for a cleaning and discovered I needed a root canal.

Fuck. That's fun. 

After my bad news (which wasn't... err... received well), my mother dropped me off at Cathy and John's house, and John then proceeded to drive me to Dinosaur. To spend the night at my friend Janet's house before we set off for our rafting trip down the Green River the next day. 

 

The Green and the Gates of Lodore.

Which sounds straight out of Lord of the Rings. Holy bananas. Any bighorn sheep we might see are probably just dwarfs and wizards in disguise.

We got on the river at one thirty the first day. Which was not, err, the anticipated time of departure (twenty five people and nine rafts plus several kayaks, do not, timely put outs, make).

Janet did the rowing --

-- and I did the sitting. Which was probably very important and the raft couldn't have gone down the river without me. It was at least as important as rowing (but maybe not as badass. Which I admit with reluctance).

I tried not to think about my rotten tooth, but it was hard.

I tried not to think about moving to Montreal, but it was hard.

I tried not to be lonely on the river, missing Massi and our daily Skype conversations, but it was hard.

But it was so good for me. So good to disconnect. So good to give myself four days wherein there was literally nothing I could do to solve my seemingly insurmountable pile of problems. Four days wherein I could just be with good people and try to enjoy my final moments in Colorado.

The nights were chilly. The mornings cold. The days hot.

The rapids fucking scary (but Janet steered us safely through them all. Like a champ. After telling me all the ways in which I could be thoroughly drowned if I happened to fall out of the boat. Which was comforting).

The scenery was unreal.

On day three, I began to notice my smell. Like, really notice it.

Ugh. I hate being nasty, I grimaced at the ripe odor emanating from my unpleasant armpits.

That's what happens after three days on the river. 

Oh well. At least we're all in the same boat. 

Heh... heh...

Sitting on a raft for four to six hours a day is hard work. Primarily because the cooler on which I sat for four to six hours a day was quite hard (and there was an awful lot of watching Janet work).

When we arrived at the campsites, sometimes we just set up our tents and hung around camp, and sometimes we ventured into the surrounding canyons for short hikes.

I am the sexiest, most beguiling of all the river rafters. I'm pretty much a siren. Don't be jealous.

In this photo, Dave is a close second to the sexiest siren on the river. Doesn't quite make it, though.

After hours of rowing against the wind (and, err, sitting against the wind), we reached the take out point on our final day. And although I was desperate to help, there wasn't much this newbie could do. So Janet, out of the goodness of her heart, let me roll straps.

Which was definitely just a way to keep me busy, because (I found out after I'd rolled them all quite neatly) most had to be unrolled again to use to keep the raft tied down to the trailer.

Altogether, I was an incredibly helpful, useful rafting companion. And I offer my services of a) the unnecessary rolling of straps, and b) four to six hours of sitting upon hard coolers per day (no rowing included) to any rafting group who might be one incredibly useful companion short.