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sunburntgypsy · 6 years

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Missoula

It’s 3 AM on Thursday. I haven’t slept enough, or at all. But there’s this energy inside of me, it’s a mix of anxiety and excitement. I’ve been back from backpacking for a while, and I’ve been working pretty hard for the last few weeks. But, there’s been this restlessness, this itch to get away, from my friends, from my family, from the responsibilities. But get away where? I need newness, somewhere that’s different, somewhere outside my comfort zone. So, I pull out the map and start looking at cities east of Seattle, with the goal being to find the next big city (or town) and start traveling my way east. I see Missoula, MT. OK, I don’t know much. Let’s do it. And that’s why I haven’t slept. It’s the rush of somewhere new, but at the same time, the anxiety of dealing with the unexpected, the unpredictable.

I won’t bore with the details of how I got here, but I’m here, in front of my hostel. Wait, one detail. The first person from Montana who I meet is Hundley. She’s 75 going on 28, coming back from a solo excursion from Mexico. She’s my co-passenger on our journey from Seattle to Missoula, and she loves me, advises me, and hugs me and wishes me good luck. She’s spunky, full of stories, and just radiates good vibes. I’m going to find her on Facebook and connect. People like her fill my life with contagious love, unconditional love, positive love.

This is my home for the next day or two, we’ll see. My latest obsession while traveling has been hostels. There’s just so much…life. It’s a constant flux of people going in and out, and with them, constant flux of different expressions, emotions, perspectives, food, culture, and life. Each hostel I’ve stayed in has been a good metaphor for its people, community, and culture. I’m hoping this one is the same.

I enter the place. Chris, the owner/manager/employee/guest welcomes me, with such an utmost smile and warmth. I needed that too, as anything but warmth would’ve frozen me right there in the Montana cold. He gives me a hug, a warm blanket, and shows me my bed, and gives me a rundown of the place. It looks like it’ll be only me staying that night, and Dennis, who’s been there for the last 6 weeks. He’s from the Netherlands, and he’s here to host the 41st International Wildlife Film Festival. He tells me that he hasn’t found a more stable place, and the people who have come and gone through this place have been interesting, fun, and in some cases, difficult to deal with. Great, the whole gamut. I’m already in!

It’s Friday morning now. Last night, Dennis and I talked about art, politics, sustainability, the rings on his fingers, and life over some Brazilian vegan food. At some point, we must have gone to sleep. I don’t know what I want to do today just yet, this place is so new. I try making coffee for the first time ever using this strange machine, and it doesn’t go well. Chris is up now, and he just laughs at my struggle. It’s his turn to show me the way, and now, we’re just chatting, over this locally sourced coffee that his friends grow right in town. Pretty soon, I realize that this whole hostel is a culmination of some very inspired, artistic, and enthusiastic people who are from this community. The logo of the hostel is based on a cross stitch that his friend made for him, the pictures on the wall, well, they’re just shot by an aspiring photographer who captures people on their bicycles. And the folks who pick you up from the airport are just dudes who owe Chris some beer money, and this is their way of paying him back. The whole thing is so smooth, yet so chaotic. There’s no process in place for any of the stuff, but the whole operation is smooth sailing. And Chris, always full of smile, and armed with topics ready to jumpstart any conversation, is there to guide people through this journey. I tell him about my dreams of having my own hostel one day, and he embraces me like a brother, as if I’m already part of this tribal group. Wow.

It’s time for me to go out and see some of this place. It’s gorgeous, a winter fantasy. I’m bundled up, hiding under two jackets, three shirts, two pairs of socks, and a leather boot, but none of that is enough. I need some food, fast.

This is Market on Front Street, a cafe/organic grocery/performance venue/reprieve from the cold. I get a cup of Americano and a Hot Hippie. Good food, good drink, good music, and good people. I’ve encountered 15 or so people since I’ve been here, and everyone, everyone has been so nice. It’s a different kind of nice. Like, that’s just how the people are; it’s not a face to put on when one goes out to deal with the world; that’s just how they are.

I ate too much. I have to head back to the hostel and get ready. I’m meeting up with an old friend tonight.

I’m back at the hostel. This is my last night here. I’m going to miss it. But, I’ll be back again, I know it.

I’m ready for my friend. She’s going to take me to ALL the bars in Missoula, which is a dangerous proposition. But, I play along.

She drives a van now. We go to Stockman’s. Everyone knows her, and she knows everyone. This is her favorite place, and it shows. I’m treated to this concoction, which is vodka mixed with basil and lots of sugar. This is just our first drink. Before I know it, we are at our fifth bar, on our seventh and/or ninth drink, catching up. She’s doing well now, with some boy troubles. I meet Dan, who drove eight hours to come to party in Missoula. Dan is 68, and his wife is back home, so he’s having fun.

I think it’s time to go back. She drives me back, and I run into Dennis, as we both stumble into our quaint temporary home together, both out of our minds, but never out of wit. We drunkenly, over some grilled cheese, decide to drive to Jackson Hole, WY at six in the morning. It’s three right now.

It’s 11 AM on Saturday. I wake up. Dennis is still sleeping, and snoring. Neither of us are going to Jackson Hole, WY today.

I can make coffee now. Chris wakes up, and I treat him to coffee that I made. It came out strong and bitter, just right. I pack up, hug Dennis and Chris, and head out. There are some new people coming in, and they’re already here. There’s a guy serenading his girl. He has a raw and soulful voice. I want to hike in the mountains today.

I’ve passed so many people to get here. Everyone seems ready for this. I’m not. I have my backpack, my camera, my clothes, and my vanity with me. I’m only wearing a pair of sneakers, some shorts over compression tights, and two jackets. I’m simple and I travel light, but this is impractical. But, I’m here, and I want to do this. I start walking up the M. It’s the iconic hilltop of Missoula, and I want to see how the valley looks from up there.

I don’t make it up. Quarter of a way through, the girl coming down tells me to try walking down, just for fun. I do, and fall on my ass. Going down is harder, more slippery, and full of treachery than going up. I look down from where I am. It’s nice, I really wish I could’ve gone higher. But, it’s OK.

I’ve made it to the base now. I didn’t fall any more, although I would’ve been OK with it.

I’m staying with Cat and Jed, a couple who I met through Couchsurfing, today. This is my first time Couchsurfing. I don’t know what to expect.

I’m here. I knock on the door. Jed opens the door. Kind eyes and a warm smile. He takes me in, shows me around their place, and gets me settled in. I’m lucky enough to get the private room.

I settle in, and head to the common room. There’s another Couchsurfer there, Verena and she’s from Austria. She’s been in the country for a few months, studying geography. She’s doing a talk at the campus soon, and then, she’ll head back. She’s an experienced Couchsurfer, and I’m not.

Jed and his band the Dodgy Mountain Men are playing at the Top Hat tonight, and we’re all invited. He calls their music Stompgrass. I don’t know what that is…yet.

Jed is rehearsing and doing the final run through as we all chat about where we come from, what we’re doing, where we’re going, etc. I try some of Verena’s roasted tomato chips from Trader Joe’s. They are really good. Jed gets a call from Kacie and her boyfriend. They Couchsurfed the night before, and they’re still in town. We all should go to the distillery, and so, we go.

We’re here, on the same street I was getting drunk last night. Jed parks on the street, and it’s OK. That’s what people do here, and everyone is OK with it. No stress.

Verena, Jed, and I meet Kacie and hers. They’re from Rapid City, SD. They’ve already had a couple of drinks. I sit across from Kacie, and Verena sits across from the guy. Jed separates us from them. We order our drinks. I get Nightburner, it’s fused with tobacco rinse. We start talking, getting comfortable with each other. There are lots of travel stories between the four of them, some good, some horrific, all being great stories to share. Kacie travelled through India, and her train was robbed, so the only guard on the train naturally decided to protect the one lone American girl, who’s the only person in that cabin. The boyfriend, while teaching English, had food poisoning and had to learn to squat poop in Central America. Verena, in Sri Lanka, had interesting experiences all around, traveling by bus, sometimes on train, always on the edge of death. Now, she’s traveling through the States on the Greyhound, and she tells us that it’s a very similar experience to her travels in Sri Lanka. And Jed, who met Cat through Couchsurfing, had a horrible time finding anywhere to stay in South America. And, I’m here, enjoying these wonderful humans and soaking in some parts of their lives.

It’s time for the show. Jed, Kacie, and the rest of the gang is already there. Verena and I, after getting some food, walk over. The music is already happening. Jed is on the stage, strumming along with his group. There’s Cat, cheering on her man. I go up and tell her that I’m here. She introduces me to Desi, her friend, who thinks I look like Nash, another guy who stayed with them through Couchsurfing, and who also must have come to one of Jed’s shows.

The Dodgy Mountain Men are so good. It’s Bluegrass with spunk. Everyone is dancing. Kacie shows me to dance and just groove to the music. I fail and everyone laughs; I do too. I’m feeling the music, the people, the drinks, the town, the love.

It’s close to 1 AM now. Verena wants to head back, and I accompany her. We talk about her life, her parents, Austria, the politics and the philosophy, her purpose, her wants and needs, and I share some of mine too. I tell her about some good music, and she tells me to listen to The Glitch Mob and IAMX. One day. She has tattoos from Harry Potter. She’s very interesting and easy to talk to. She tells me that in Austrian, Tramp Stamp translates to Butt Antlers. I like it.

We’re home. It’s cold, and we fall asleep. At some time, everyone else gets back. We realize that Kacie and her plus one don’t have a place to go to, so we decide that they’ll Couchsurf with us for one more night. I give the private room to them, they deserve it.

It’s 10 AM on Sunday. Everyone is still asleep. I miss them already. I miss this town already. But now, it’s time. Time to go somewhere else. I’ll be back.

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wordsofcleo · 4 years

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Best Friend The Hero (12/4/19)

There are some things I’m almost sure we don’t deserve in life, as human beings. Think about it. Dogs, cake, bubble baths, and best friends. Okay, maybe we do deserve those things and I’m just being hard on myself as per usual. But you get the idea.

I consider a best friend to be someone who would do nearly anything for you, strives for your happiness, and wants the very best for you. I consider it to be someone who is in your life for more than a temporary moment. A best friend is someone who sticks around no matter what happens or how bad times get. They are part of your journey in this thing called life.

I have two best friends. One is Cassie; we’ve been best friends for maybe seventeen years. Yes, we were small children who never parted. This post is about my other best friend, Ian, who also has a very sweet and unexpected twist about him.

I started working for Exxon some time in early 2017. Yes, I had a gas station job. Go me. Judge me all you want, but truth be told, it was literally the most amazing job I’ve ever had. I made almost all of my valued friendships there, my boss was superb and genuinely cared about her workers, and there was always laughter and fun. I never questioned myself or my worth in the workplace because I never had a reason to. I was safe. It was enjoyable. I always came to work with a smile on my face, and went home without worry in my mind. Some time after I’d been working there, I noticed a new face coming around. A new customer. I’d grown close to all of my customers, and got to know the occasional new-comers and/or tourists. But this guy was new, and soon enough he would become another regular. I realized that there was something different about him that I couldn’t quite place my finger on. He had long blonde hair, wore combat boots (that probably isn’t the correct term of boot, but what do I know about boots?), and almost always got the same thing when he stopped in. An Arizona tea. After studying what was so different about him for some time, I was able to place my finger on it. He always spoke with a genuine smile, asked how my day was going, and took the time from his day to seriously care. I was just another employee behind a counter, how special was I, really? With this customer, he made me feel special. He genuinely wanted to know things. Another thing that was different was the way that he always stood off to the side of the counter, if there were other customers in line, to proceed in conversation with me. For me, at first, I found it a bit strange. He was a talker, that was fine. However, most of the customers that lingered around for conversation were people that I’d known for a while being there. He was still new to me. Even then, I enjoyed his conversation and never hesitated. It went very naturally. When he found himself to the door, he would make sure I had eye contact with him before he said, “Alright, take care now.”

Honestly, Florida’s nice folk are very few and far between. This guy was very genuine and kind. That is a major thing that made him different. And I appreciated that about him.

One day, the guy came in and asked me if we were hiring. We were always hiring, because we had so many people land the job and leave soon enough. (Sucks for them, because it was an awesome place.) He’d asked if I had an application, but I didn’t, and directed him to the online application link. Again, he got his Arizona tea, stayed around for a while to chat, and he was back out into the world again. He came back a few times after that saying he’d has issues with the online application, and I told him he’d be better off speaking to the manager. So, assumably he did. My manager wasn’t from our area, so she didn’t know many people personally. I was born and raised there, and we had a cool relationship, so when she would get new applications, she would ask me if I knew of such and such.

“Do you know an Anthony?” She asked me one day. My mind immediately darted to my very first relationship in school; my first serious boyfriend. His name was Anthony. “Anthony who?!” And no, it was not the same Anthony. It was Ian. I didn’t learn until later that he went by both names. So, one day I came into work and the newly-reg customer that I’d found so intriguing was there with a name tag on the job. “Oh hey, you got the job!” I noticed that no one else was speaking to him much. I was already warmed up to him, and our conversations came very naturally. He was a cool dude.

The Exxon I worked was a tiny building, but it had two parts to it: Exxon (gas station) and Subway (for obviously - sub sandwiches). Ian had been hired onto Subway side. That would mean we worked in the same place, but he was just a counter space over from me.

At this point in time, my best friend Cassie had gone off to college and stayed busy. She would always visit me of course when she was down, but I stopped seeing her as much. That was okay because I was married at the time and busy with work and other things, but I still missed her terribly. She was my ride or die!

Almost immediately, Ian and I became great friends. I feel as though some people were hesitant of him because he was different. It could have been for the same reasons that I listed above with myself trying to figure him out, but who knows. He was an intriguing man. He was genuine. He was kind. He was a talker. You didn’t get a lot of that in Florida. Everyone is always rude, in a rush, and panties in a wad for the most part. I said for the most part; don’t hurt me, Floridians.

I learned that Ian moved to Florida from Alabama approximately four years from the time we met at work, which would explain why I didn’t know of him. Most people in our small community knew everyone simply because we all grew up together. Sally knew Bob, and Bob had a cousin named Trevor that had a brother named Thomas and Thomas ended up being Sally’s husband. Eventually, Sally and Thomas have kids that go to school with Bob and Trevor’s kids and so on and so forth. Okay, you get the idea. Small town mentality. I totally pulled that out of my ass.

That’s why I didn’t recognize Ian. He was from Alabama, and still fairly new to the block. They say it’s always important to have a work buddy. A best friend buddy. Well, Ian ended up being my best friend buddy. If he wasn’t working the same time I was, it wasn’t exactly the same. Sure, I had other work buddies, but he kind of ended up being my special work buddy. My best friend. To be fair, all of the coworkers laughed and had fun together, but we were all different in our own ways. Ian was not only fun to be around, we had more of a connection. The others were more “Hey, we work together, so let’s love each other, have fun, and go home. Come back again the next day.” With Ian, we could talk to one another outside of work, be there for one another, and really just be good friends both in and outside of the work place. His parents came into the store frequently to pick on him (they’re silly like that and I love it) and just say hello. They took me in immediately! Growing up with a crooked and crumbly family, it was nice to know that I’d be accepted in somewhere else. It just went to show that you don’t have to be blood related to have family. I made family where I worked. I was brought into people’s circles and families that I’d never expected. Ian’s family being the main prospect. They were silly, goofy, honest, genuine, true, and everything that family folk should be. Everything that I’d ever wanted to be part of. They made me feel loved and appreciated. They cared. “If you ever need anything, you know you can call me or come by the house,” his mother would always say. Heck, from the beginning this was the lingo that was used. I was just another girl at a job. But they made me feel like home. To this day, that is true.

About a year into working for Exxon, my pre-existing back injuries began to flare once more. I knew I had a bad back, but the pain had come and gone. I needed a job, and the one before Exxon simply wasn’t working out anymore, so I had to suck it up and find something. Exxon was great, I loved it, but the good ole Return Of The Shit Spine was taking over once more. Nevertheless, I attempted powering through my work duties despite how badly I was pained. I didn’t want to lose my job because I couldn’t complete tasks. Ian caught onto this, and naturally, he wanted to help. I wasn’t supposed to have help on my tasks at work, but it was offered, so I didn’t decline. Ian didn’t work on Exxon side; he worked on Subway side, but regardless of that, he made time and effort to help me with my tasks. Tasks like, lifting heavy trash, moving heavy crates of product, loading cases of beer onto a pulley so that I could transport them into the cooler to stock. I never asked for his help, but any time he saw me groaning in pain or about to lift something, there he was. Ready to help me, even when he wasn’t supposed to.

My spinal injuries got so serious to the point that I was losing the ability to stand for hours at a time at the register, I could no longer stock items, or do majority of my job duties. Many days, I had to leave work early because I could only handle so much of the pain. I have a high pain tolerance. That’s how you know it was out of control. I finally gave in, saw a doctor, got an x-ray and MRI completed. This is when I first learned that I had herniated and bulging discs in my spine, and that my spinal cord was narrowing and becoming compressed. No freaking wonder I hurt so bad. With that being said, I was placed on forced medical leave. The idea was to get fixed up and return to work, but that never happened. Why? Because I had no health insurance or money, and that simply wasn’t possible. My husband’s income alone was not enough for what I needed done to my spine.

When Ian started working with us at Exxon, my husband had not long come home from one of his long departed journeys. Yes, the ones where he left me out of the blue with no rhyme, reason, or explanation. This was something that I could share with Ian, having been good friends, and he was very understanding of my dedication to my husband as well as my fears. Ian was someone I could trust. I could always tell by the expression on his face that he was disappointed with my husband, but always danced around telling me so. I’m sure that he didn’t want to go there, and that’s okay. He wanted to respect my marriage, and I respect him for that. Things went well for a long time with my husband before they started declining rapidly again. Many nights when my husband and I got into arguments, I felt completely alone. I couldn’t just run up to my best friend Cassie and be with her, because she was off at college. She was busy and away, and that’s okay. Ian was always able to tell when something sounded “off” in our texts. I didn’t ever want to splurge off about the problems between my husband and I, but I also couldn’t hold it in forever. I was keeping it bottled inside, and that’s never good. So lucky for me, Ian would be my hero. There were so many nights that my husband totally disregarded the pain he’d caused me, and I’d sit in the bathroom (or my car) for hours, crying until I couldn’t anymore. I would get suicidal. I’d feel hopeless. I felt unloved. Ian would offer to meet up with me some place and talk, so I usually would. Some times it was 11 at night, other times it was three in the morning. Either way, he was always there for me, and he would stay and talk with me as long as I needed it. No matter the time, no matter if he had work the next morning. Ian was always there.

Shortly after leaving my job on medical leave, Hurricane Michael struck the Panhandle. We were ground zero. We got totally destroyed, and my precious job went with it. Of course, most everyone I knew was displaced for a long time, and that included Ian and his family.

Between the hurricane, losing my grandfather a month after, and all of the other chaos in between, Ian and I weren’t seeing each other as much. His family’s home got totally ruined, where mine and my grandparent’s got minimal damage. Because of that, we were able to come home sooner than Ian and his family. And once they did come home, they had to live out of travel trailers because their damage was so extensive. Even with being displaced like everyone else and far away from each other, our friendship remained. He was busy focusing on working in an unfamiliar territory and helping provide for his family, and I was dealing with the death of the man who raised me. It was hard times. Still, we remained best friends. We talked each other through it all. A lot of the talking we did were the hopeless nights I laid awake, questioning myself and my worth because of the emotionally abusive marriage I was in. Ian was my best friend, and he wanted to respect my marriage, but he hated to see me that way. On days that my husband wouldn’t even acknowledge me, Ian was keeping me sane through it. He cared. He wanted me to be happy and not miserable. He was always there. And I can say without a care in the world to admit here publicly that Ian helped save me from suicide more than once. He didn’t know it at the time, but he did. When my husband made me feel like the scum of the Earth, when I felt like there was no reason to live anymore, Ian is who saved my life. He talked me through the bad, nasty moments of my darkness and got me into my right head again. He was my hero. I can say with total seriousness that Ian helped save my life when no one else would/could.

My husband knew that Ian was my best friend, and he was fine with that. (He better had been. Just because I’m a woman does not mean I can’t have a male best friend). Despite being okay with my very valued friendship, my husband always made remarks about him. Whether it was his looks, the things he said; just any little thing that he could find to over exaggerate in a wrongful way and make him out to be a wonky person. My husband was a “secret bully” to my best friend. And the truth of it is; my husband was jealous of Ian. When he started catching on that Ian did more for me as a friend than he ever would as a husband, he grew somewhat jealous. The other truth is; that was not Ian’s fault, nor was he ever trying to out-do my husband. That’s just how Ian always was. Not just for me, mind you, but he was a helpful, caring person to everyone. That was his nature. The one thing that ticked me off with my husband and that situation was that even though he made constant negative remarks about the man, he eventually warmed up to him enough to start talking to him as his own friend. Not that I didn’t want that, but I felt as though he was being two faced. I knew how my husband could be. One moment he was one way; next he was another. So, one night my husband comes up with the random idea to have Ian over for a “guy’s night”. Yes, in our home (a tiny house). We had a double recliner as the only furniture set, and the bed upstairs in the loft (all open concept like a studio apartment). How can you go from making such hideous remarks about someone, and then invite them over for a guy’s night? Whatever. Of course, Ian was thrilled. I’m sure he wanted to have a friendship with both me and my husband. That would be nice for anyone, you’d think. So, Ian came over, we cooked dinner, they played video games (that mainly consisted of my husband hogging the controller and making Ian watch), and the guys took the recliners down stairs and I slept in the loft upstairs alone. I remember laying there thinking, “This is weird.”

That morning, I was barely awake but still laying in bed. I was listening closely to the guys moving around downstairs before I tried to get up. Then Ian said, “I can run to the store and get breakfast and we can cook for Sav.” And then I heard my husband decline him. “She will be asleep for a long time,” (lies) “so it’ll be fine.”

Yeah, that meant “No”. Ian kept offering, but the answer was still no. Of course Ian left after that, and I got up immediately. I confronted my husband. I couldn’t have the luxury of a nice breakfast from my husband and best friend? Sheesh. I thought it was a nice gesture! And yes, my husband didn’t know I’d heard all of that. But I did.

After that, Ian didn’t come over for “guy’s nights” anymore. Not that he didn’t want to, but my husband never invited him again. He went back on his “I’m not Ian’s biggest fan” streak or whatever. Still, Ian helped with things just the same. I could beg my husband for six months to do something that he’d promise he’d do, and he never did it. And if he did finally do it because I begged, it was done totally wrong and shortcuts made. With Ian, he never hesitated. He got it done right then, and the right way. He was a natural helper. Maybe my husband saw that as a threat, but it wasn’t one. It was my best friend being himself. And I admire him for that.

Back at our work place, our coworkers would always make jokes to me. “Sav, you should give Ian a chance!” Of course, I was married at the time, and that wasn’t right. Even with everything my husband was doing and had been doing to me. I wasn’t trying to slice things off with my husband just to be with someone else. Plus, he was my best friend, and that thought never even crossed my mind as an idea alone. Never. I valued him as my true friend, and nothing more. “Sav, you need to drop your husband forever because he’s a piece of garbage and go for Ian. Look at all he does for you! Look how good he treats you!”

These are things I heard on a nearly regular basis at work. I thought these people were crazy. I didn’t look at Ian that way. I looked at him as my best friend. And I was, at the time, fighting for my marriage by the thin hairs of its ass.

Ian had never been in a serious relationship. Long distance had been his thing a few times, but it didn’t work out. I remember wishing for him, as his bestie, that he would find an amazing woman some day. Someone that would treat him as wonderfully as he treated me, and others. A thought I had more times than not was, “Why does my best friend care more about me than my own husband?” It was a validated concern. To this day, that is something that is always heavy on my mind. Ian was always more of a good man to me than my own significant other. Ian was the person that I could call at any time of day or night for anything and he would be there. I once had a good friend in a bad relationship that needed out. She needed help moving furniture out with an additional police escort, and Ian overheard the conversation on the phone with her. He offered to use his vehicle to help load and transport her things. Along with him, he brought his entire family to help. I was blown away. That’s a real man.

My husband left me, again, for the fourth time recently on August 18, 2019. It was four times too many, and the last of times. It has been difficult, but I know I can’t be the puppet on the string anymore. I can’t suffer anymore. I can’t hurt anymore. My divorce papers have been filed, and I will be a future divorced woman from the man who emotionally and mentally ruined me for the last four years of my life. The beautiful thing about it? My best friend has been my hero. That’s literally it. Ian is my hero. He was from the beginning, and he still is. Now, don’t take me the wrong way. I don’t want it to sound like it’s been Ian’s job or responsibility to lift me up every time I face plant into shit. It’s not. It never has been. I made that clear to him not to ever feel obligated to pick me up when I’m down. Nevertheless, he always does. Because he cares and he loves me for who I am. And I love him for that. Once my husband did me wrong again this go around, Ian and I started hanging out more. We didn’t for the longest time because of everything going on between me and my husband. There was too much stress and fighting going on. Ian was always there for me, but we weren’t hanging out. We mostly talked over the phone. That changed, and picked back up again in the midst of my runaway spouse. He’s been there for me through it all. And with a shot in the dark, kind of, we became even closer than before. I didn’t think that was possible, but I was wrong. I could tell that Ian had a thing for me, and so I asked him about it. He was honest with me. He told me that he saw me more as a best friend only, but he always did have feelings there. The reason that I never knew of these feelings was because he wanted to respect me, my husband, and my marriage. He, as my best friend, saw that I wanted to fight for my marriage, and he wanted to respect that. So, I never knew about the feelings he had until recently. I appreciated the truth from him. There is no reason on this Earth that any woman should have ever denied Ian. He is a beautiful, caring soul. I never did understand how he wasn’t scooped up beforehand, but what do I know? Do women just love assholes? Maybe so. This go around, we mutually agreed that it was time to satisfy all of our coworkers’ playful suggestions over time about giving each other a chance. And so, we did. It’s been natural. It’s been great. It’s been everything and more. The thing is, I loved my best friend for who he was. I knew who he was, and I knew him well. And that makes me be even more appreciative of what we have now. He has always been genuine and loving, kind and caring, and that has not changed. This last time that my husband left, where people rooted me on in fighting previously, they assured me not to fight anymore. To let him go. People have told me this go around that they saw doors closing and new ones opening for me. And they were right. At first, I didn’t want to believe it. I thought that could never possibly be true. And it was. I never saw myself in any type of romantic relationship with my best friend. Here we are. He is real, emotionally available, trustworthy, promising, caring, protective, supportive, hilarious, fun, and everything else amazing that I can’t even list all in one sentence. He is a wonderful man, and an even better man at heart. I went from counting my days to live with emotional and mental turmoil to thinking I may have a chance at happiness in this life. Am I only a bit guarded? Yes. To be expected. Will I heal with time? Yes, absolutely. My best friend is my hero, and he is now my significant other. I couldn’t have asked for a better door to have opened.

#savnotion #best friend #romance #BFF #personal

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forwardtillthefinish · 6 years

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“Going to the mountains is going home”: Blue Ridge Half Marathon

I rarely do the same race twice but I loved this race so much last year that it was only right to come back again to tackle mountains.While I did not beat last years time, I really took this race all in, stayed positive and kept it moving more than last year. From packet pickup to the finish line party, I had a blast and I am pretty sure I am going to come back next year for round three of Americas’ Toughest Road Half Marathon.

This year, the race expo was significantly bigger than last year. I was interested to see how the race expo would be set up when I saw that it was going to be at the Patrick Henry. In my college days, we had a formal in the lobby of the Patrick Henry. I knew that the expo wouldn’t be like Pittsburgh, Richmond or Shamrock but was impressed to see how they were able to utilize multiple floors to have more presentation tables and a much larger swag selection. I got my traditional pint glass and even a hat...

When I asked one of the swag booth employees about the hats (and the lack of a quarter zip), rather than assume I was running a race of a lower distance, she asked me which race I was running. Immediately, my grouchiness soothed and I bought a hat I NEVER would have bought but now I’m in love.

We even got a cute gifs done at the booth before dropping stuff off at the hotel and heading to dinner. The hotel situation could have been horrible but Holiday Inn Express near the Civic Center saved the day when the former Cambria Suites did not have my reservation FROM JULY.

We went to Fork in the Alley for dinner. I knew they had something for everyone and also thought there was a Bubblecake next door. To my surprise when we pulled up, I saw that Viva la Cupcake had moved in next door. Sadly they were closed but saw that Bubblecake had moved to the Towers Shopping Center around the corner. Nothing like pizza, a beer and cupcakes to carb up for a serious race that was going to tax me hard core.

Kim and I got back to the hotel and I shortly took an Estrella PM to help me fall asleep. Between a pill and NPR, I was out before I could count to 10. It was my first time trying this brand of sleep aid but it worked wonders and did not leave me feeling dry and drowsy the next morning.

Race morning Kim and I got up, got dressed and took an Uber to the start. While the start was only a mile from the hotel, I really did not want to put extra mileage on my feet giving the climb we were going to take on. The race had around 2,000 runners so it was easy to get to Elmwood Park, the start, even with all the roads being closed. Getting dropped off at the back of the park was smart because there was a long line of porta potties, bag check and we ran into quite a few Richmond folks even before our meet up.

We got a good many of our Richmond friends and my college friends in a photo right before the start. Little did I know that the Patrick Henry was the perfect spot for a group photo because it put all of us right at the start line, got a chance to see everyone before the task before us and the ability to pop into the building for a last minute potty break. I saw the race director Molly before the cannon at the start. She not only remembered by name and took the couple minutes to talk to me. WHAT RACE HAVE YOU RUN WHERE THE RACE DIRECTOR CAN HAVE A LEISURELY CHAT MINUTES BEFORE THE RACE START?! If that doesn’t make you feel comfortable and taken care of, I don’t know what will.

Once we got outside, the race was starting and I looked for Jeremiah (J-Money aka Mr. Gigi aka the guy from Baltimore/MCM10k). I wasn’t sure of Jeremiah's goals for this race other than survival so I was hoping I could stick with him for a little bit of the race. We ended up climbing Mill Mountain together and we split off after reaching the Mill Mountain star which is the top of the first mountain. The first mountain is hard because it is a long steady climb. Luckily my memory served me well and I figured out the climb was longer than I remembered. Once you get to the top of the three mile climb, you are greeted by the Mill Mountain Star and nice soft gravel for a quarter of a mile. After that, I released J-Money to run how he wished and did not see him to the end.

Coming down Mill Mountain, I let the wind and gravity do the work. I also knew there was mimosas on the one of the switchbacks. While being passed by the first marathoner, I made friends with some folks that grew up in Roanoke but now live in Raleigh. I hung with them until I got a mimosa, which I stopped and savored. While I continuously got passed by speedy marathoners, almost all of them told me good job as I passed or threw up a thumbs up. One guy even patted me on the back as he passed. So friendly!

After Mill Mountain, there is a couple miles of flat-ish course along the greenway, passing the hospital and through a park/ soccer field. It is just long enough to stretch your legs, get a real run going, fuel up and get ready for the even steeper climb of Peakwood. As I started the ascent into Peakwood I hear “Nikkia!” and I look up and there is a sorority sister directing traffic. She was accompanied by a woman with two young girls. They had fruit and gummy bears This was one of the several unofficial SAG stops. I am not sure what is in the water in Roanoke, but these residents welcome and look forward to this race. While the streets aren’t lined with spectators, the spectators and volunteers that were out there give it all.

Lord have mercy Peakwood. I feel like Peakwood was harder this year. The funny part about Peakwood is that you think you made it to the top but then you turn a corner and there is EVEN MORE. There is a pretty cool pay off at the top of this mountain- Champagne and Fresh Cut Fruit. A very nice and friendly lady offered to refill my water bottle while I walked the cul de sac, drank my champagne and threw back a mini cup of strawberries. I met her on the other side, slid on my handheld and flew down Peakwood for the next 3 miles. Coming off of Peakwood, I saw a woman that seemed to be struggling to stay upright. I stopped and asked what was wrong. I’m First Aid trained and rather than assume someone else will take care of it, I would like to be sure before leaving someone. She said she was cramping. I offered her two SaltStick tabs because I always carry extra. She later found me on Instagram and thanked me for the help. I was happy to see she made it to the finish!

So I’ve climbed two mountains so the rest of the race must be flat right? Wrong. There is a pretty good climb around mile 10 and two long over passes between mile 11 and the finish. I affectionately call them insult to injury.

I came across another woman who was having some issues with her feet and shoes. The more she talked about how her feet hurt, I thought about my feet. Even with my sport shield soaked feet, compression socks and well fitted shoes, the climbing, shuffling, and gliding down the mountains made the sides of my feet raw. At this point, I knew the finish was not too far off and then I could land my feet in my new pair of oofos!

Coming into the finish shutte a nice spectator was cheering me on telling me how “ I was going to complete a half marathon today!”. I responded, yeah number 19! With that, I had what I needed to push to the finish. There was Molly and the coveted medal! I happily took it and ran to my friends in the finish.

While I did not beat my 2017 time, I felt better. I felt strong and like I had another couple miles in me. I will take that and count it as progress. I can’t wait to go back next year with an even larger group from Richmond and an even stronger respect and love for those great mountains that feel like home.

#blueridgemountains #blueridgemarathon #blue ridge marathon #halfmarathontraining #halfmarathon #irunmountains #nuunambassador #ambassador #roanoke #noke #roanokeva #millmountain #peakwood

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nashvillesingersblog · 6 years

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Jean-Baptiste Craipeau

Todd Wilson explores a cappella music in France with Youtube multitracking pioneer, singer, and musician Jean-Baptiste Craipeau

Todd Wilson had a chance to interview Jean-Baptiste Craipeau for our email newsletter. Todd is one of our founders and serves the Nashville Singers as Executive Director and Artistic Director.

You can subscribe to our newsletter by texting the word SINGERS to 42828

Published December 11, 2017

TW: When did you know you wanted to be a singer?

JBC: I've been fascinated by and exposed to vocal music since I was a kid. My dad has always been a choir director so all sort of vocal music was played in the house and I got the chance to sing solos as well which reinforced my love for vocals.

TW: Your arrangements sound like they were influenced by the work of some of my favorite a cappella groups, like Take 6, the Singers Unlimited, and the Hi-Los. Are there other a cappella arrangers or groups that have inspired you along the way?

JBC: These are my 3 favorite vocal groups but I may want to add The Real Group, The Kings Singers and Bobby McFerrin

TW: Outside of a cappella, what soloists or other bands/groups seem to find there way most often to your personal playlist?

JBC: I've had some intense periods of listening to several bands for the last 10 years including Jaco Pastorius, Queen, Earth Wind & Fire, Bill Evans and Snarky Puppy.

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TW: You have a plethora of multi-track a cappella videos on your Youtube channel. That's how I learned about you. Many of these videos have been featured in our newsletter over the years. As far as I can see, eight of them have over 100,00 views and THAT'S AMAZING! What about your Daft Punk cover of "Get Lucky" do you think caused it to attract so much attention - over a million views (so far)?

JBC: I had a pretty active period on YouTube some years ago where I built an audience. I tried different things and some of them worked better than others ! I can't explain why...

TW: Can you describe the popularity of a cappella music in France?

JBC: There is a scene in choral and classical singing in general, but the jazz or contemporary a cappella is not so popular. People barely know groups like PTX for example. They seem to always love a cappella music when they hear it though.

TW: In your response to my request for this interview, you mentioned being a fan of ACOUSTIX. I'm flattered. How did you discover barbershop harmony, and what about barbershop captured your interest in this American art form?

JBC: I started doing multitracks around 2005 and when I decided to put some clips online I found some guys doing split screen videos on YouTube ! I was amazed by the concept of showing each parts in squares. These guys were doing barbershop tags. I kinda fell in love with the sound of well balanced and tuned chords. I had never heard barbershop before, so I searched for quartets doing this and of course I quickly found Acoustix, which remains one of my favorites. The thing that I love the most about barbershop is the tuning challenge : the goal is to have all chords ring, which is the best school for a cappella lovers/singers. When a fifth rings and you hear overtones, it's a very exciting experience. Also some arrangements are pretty advanced for only 4 parts so I soon started transcribing songs to understand more this style which is very unique!

TW: Your a cappella group Accent is described as an online collaboration of musicians from several countries looking to bring you the best in a cappella and jazz. But I've also seen lots of videos of live performances, tags, promos, and jingles recorded all over the place. My three-part question about Accent is this: 1) What brought you together? 2) What are some of your aspirations as an ensemble? and 3) What can you tell us about Accent's new recording project "In This Together?"

JBC: As I said before I was doing multitracks videos, and most of the other guys were doing the same. We all met on YouTube sharing our passion for a cappella/jazz/barbershop music by sending arrangements, transcriptions, rare recordings etc. Very geeky stuff haha! I first "met" Simon Åkesson from Sweden on a forum about The Hi-Lo's. I discovered this group through Take 6 when they mentioned their influences. Simon amazed me by his knowledge and very refined vocal work! I'm talking about 2006 or something, he already had arranged a ton of stuff, composed a mass etc. So we get along pretty quickly having the same background in music (classical, jazz, rock lovers). He's the most talented person I know! It took a while til we decide to record a song together ! It actually started as a quartet with Andrew (Canada) Evan (USA) and my brother, then Danny joined (Canada) and then we thought it would be great to cover Gold Mine by Take 6 ! So I contacted Simon again and the London Based James ! Funny thing is I met James some years before at a Take 6 concert in London. He reached out to me and from that day we kept chatting and sharing stuff together.

Our influences as a group are quite obvious. We love The Hi-Lo's, The Singers Unlimited, Take 6, The Real Group. These groups are the main reason why we are together! We recorded a first CD in our own places but this second CD is special for us cause we recorded together in the same room, all standing in circle. The songs are all originals from group members or legends like Mervyn Warren or Siedah Garrett which we feel so lucky to have around us!

TW: You guys recently spent some time with Jacob Collier in the UK. Is there a new vocal or arranging collaboration in the works?

JBC: This was probably the most exciting moment in Accent so far! This guy is a genius, probably the most unbelievable musician of his generation ! The funny thing is that he contacted me when he started doing his one man band thing on YouTube. So I really saw him grow very fast and big ! Very inspiring. We don't have any collaboration in mind at the moment, but it's a great idea...Let's work on this !

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TW: When did complete your first vocal arrangement. Do you remember the name of the song?

JBC: I think it was Fly Me To The Moon that I wrote for 5 parts, later on I adapted it for 6 and now we sing it in Accent as part of our show.

TW: Can you describe the arranging process or what basic elements you feel every good arrangement should include?

JBC: I think it's important to have a unity in the song and to decide what do you want to keep from the original and what do you want to change...could be the tempo, the groove, the style, the chord progressions etc. There's so much you can do! You just have to take some decisions. Also the more I arrange the more I try to build a song. Starting somewhere and going to another place. Rather than harmonizing chord by chord or phrase by phrase. It's about creating some moments-tension/release.

TW: Do you arrange for your own multi-tracks or for Accent exclusively or do other groups ever commission you to create a custom chart?

JBC: Most of my work so far has been for my multitracks or for the groups I'm part of. But I'd love to work for some choirs or groups at some point.

TW: Do you ever encounter writer's block, times when your creative juices are not flowing adequately enough to get an arrangement started? If yes, how do you usually overcome that situation?

JBC: Oh yeah, it happens all the time haha! I think what helps me is to try to "zoom out" a bit. I try to sing the melody again and again, find a way to make it more simple and effective. It's okay to write complex chords but they have to work together too. A good tool for that is to check both vertical and horizontal approach to an arrangement. Adding some rests here and there, make sure singers have time to breathe etc. Simple tips but always good to keep that in mind!

TW: What is some advice you could share with aspiring arrangers?

JBC: Go transcribe all your favorite songs/arrangements! That's the best school! Start with easy pieces maybe only 3 parts, then SATB pieces then more closed voicings. I had the bad idea of starting to transcribe vocal music by Take 6! My ears weren't ready yet...so it was a bit frustrating. I don't want this to happen to anyone else !

TW: You've had a chance to work with some amazing performers over the years. What is some of the best advice you have been given by another singer/arranger/performer?

JBC: The best advice would be to listen closely, pay attention to details and do your homework so you are ready when you need to!

TW: What are your thoughts on the evolution of the music industry and songwriting over the course of your lifetime? Are you happy with this evolution?

JBC: I think the music industry evolved a lot with the digital music and internet in general. I personally love how it turns out : everyone can record their music with almost anything and it's easy to share it to the world. But it's somehow difficult to sell this music aside from touring! So the best is to build an audience that go to your show!

I kinda miss the old recordings that sounds very natural and live though. That's why I rarely listen to the radio because of these really compressed mix, that sound unnatural and unmusical in a way (No dynamics). My albums collection consists mostly of old CDs haha!

TW: Do you have a day job like so many of us, or do you make your living as a professional musician?

JBC: I'm lucky enough to live from music. I play in many bands of any kind, from classical vocal ensemble to acoustic folk trios, even some rock bands. I'm excited by any kind of music and I really think any opportunity helps me to become a better musician.

TW: What personal accomplishment are you most proud of outside of music?

JBC: Being the father of 2 kids! Alicia (2,5 yo) and Gabriel (1 month). It's just amazing!

TW: Do you have any hobbies outside of music?

JBC: I like sports in general, traveling and going to the beach during summer! Just wish I had more time for these things!

TW: What new and exciting projects do you have on the horizon?

JBC: Accent always come up with cool ideas to help us working with new people, new challenges etc. We really love collaborating with big bands or lead singers, so maybe we will go in that direction!

TW: How can our subscribers find out more about YOU and Accent while you're at it?

JBC: We are active on social media, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. You can follow us @AccentVocal! Feel free to drop a message!

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