I’m applying for a job in Vail, Colorado, one that will require me to write, post photos, interact with guests, lead cruiser bike rides, hike and be all sorts of ambassador-ish and social. But, there’s a catch: I need your help.
There are very few countries that inspire ancestral pride like Ireland on March 17 (and, if it that does not fall on a weekend, for the days leading up to March 17). Originally a religious holiday to honor St. Patrick, who introduced Christianity to Ireland in the fifth century, St. Patrick’s Day has evolved into a celebration for all things Irish with images of shamrocks, leprechauns and the “wearing of the green” to celebrate the Emerald Isle. You’ll hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t claim at least a bit of Irish on this day and, in the spirit of this friendly country, no one will actually double check your claim.
A friend who lives in Connecticut called me last week. Apparently the polar vortex and all of the crazy weather that has been affecting the country got to be a bit too much for her.
“I need a beach–somewhere warm, not too far from an airport. I need to get out of here,” she said.
She’s not the only one who has been feeling this way. From tweets to Facebook posts to conversations that I’ve had with friends living from Colorado to Atlanta to New Hampshire, everyone’s a bit over the cold and ready for the beach.
The starting point for my almost-a-month in Colombia, Cartagena is a bustling tourist destination that welcomes guests from around South America and the rest of the world. I spent a total of almost six days in this colonial city– here are some of the highlights. Eat Cartagena is on Caribbean coast of Colombia and, …
I recently made a trip down to Denver International Airport, a 2.5 hour drive, for a 10-minute appointment. Then I drove 2.5 hours back.
Yes. A 10-minute appointment.
But, I didn’t complain because that five hours and 10 minutes will save me an infinite amount of time–and frustration–in the future. At least, that’s the plan.
I attended the Great American Beer Festival (GABF) two weekends ago in Denver. Now that I have (somewhat) recovered, I feel like I can honestly and succinctly write about it. It was amazing. Succinct enough for you? All joking aside, I have to admit that I went into the GABF with a few preconceived notions that …
I don’t remember exactly what year it was, but I think I was in fifth grade. I do remember being incredibly excited to be going to a concert. My first real concert.
My parents were taking my sister and me to see Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton in Columbia, SC.