travel

Why I’m No Longer Mad at Boulder, Colorado

October 7, 2020November 23, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

You can't go home again. That's what they say. Which is weird, because the truth is that you never really leave. Regardless of how many years or miles pass by, there's always a part of you trapped in that place. A splinter of home is forever lodged in your psyche.Home is a complicated thing. It isn't just a place. I'm not talking about those corny plaques that everyone's grandma has hanging in their kitchen that says something like, "Home isn't a place, it's a feeling." Or even worse, "Home is where the heart is." That's all too simple and trite. Especially if you've had many homes.One of those places wasn't my home at all. I never lived in Boulder, Colorado. And yet, I've long had a thorny relationship with the place.Curled up on the floor of my cramped bedroom in a little trailer park in Indiana, I drew one enormous picture after another of mountain scenes with my fat Crayola...

These Days, I’m Totally Cool With Being a Goat-Eating White Trash Princess Barbie

March 12, 2018November 23, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

If I were ranking each decade of my life, my 40s would have the top score. It's a comfortable place of knowing myself better than ever before, and full-blown adulthood is an achievement that brings rewards previously unimagined. It's a strange time of contradictions where I give fewer shits, but care more deeply. I still feel outrage and anger, but find that it isn't channeled the same way, and is focused on different targets. I'm wiser, but am still learning and pay attention to the lessons with greater awareness. I'm better equipped to know which battles to fight, and which to let go. And why.In 2003, the couple living next door began calling me "Barbie" soon after we met. I'm like a Barbie doll, they say. I shake my head, and tell them they're wrong. I love hanging out with these two women. We open the doors of our apartments and sit on the steps, the three of us drinking...

Here’s a Story About How to Stop Eating Bullshit

March 1, 2017March 1, 2017 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Passports are amazing. In 1998, when I received my first passport, it was as though I had a golden ticket that could take me anywhere. I flipped through the pages, dreaming of all the stamps that would one day fill this little blue-covered book. I was an insecure twenty-something who graduated from high school two years late and had just been fired from my low-paying factory job. People like me didn't travel. People like me only visited far away places in books and movie screens. That's what I believed. So, it was funny that I had a round-trip ticket to London, a packed bag, and a Let's Go! guide to Britain under my arm.Other countries were an intimidating and weird magic. I wanted to experience that.During that adventure, I explored various parts of England and Scotland. I took the Eurostar to Paris. I rode the métro. I made an ass of myself. I talked with strangers, got lost, rained on,...

You Can’t Outrun the Uncertain Future

December 7, 2016November 30, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

A few months ago, life was normal. The future was uncertain, but I slept better than I do now. My husband Olivier and I were enjoying our first year of living in England. After ten years in France, it was a welcome and exciting change. We often had conversations about what the next big leap might be. Maybe back home to the States, depending on the election. Or, maybe elsewhere in the U.K., depending on how the whole Brexit thing goes. The threat of Brexit cast a shadow over everything, but it didn't feel menacing. Hell, it probably wouldn't actually happen. That'd be crazy.Then came the morning that we woke up and found ourselves living in fucking crazytown.My husband, a European working in England, had to go to work immediately afterward, all the while wondering if everyone he looked at had just voted for him to leave. Luckily, working in an office with a colorful international mix softened the blow....

London, Paris, New York… and Longmont

June 23, 2015December 1, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

It all started with laughter and a longing to be somewhere else.I don't miss my hometown. I moved out of Longmont, Colorado in 1994, and never wanted to move back. For me, crossing that town line is like stepping into a dark parallel universe of bad memories. It's a time machine that only goes back to traumatic events; to people who only knew me as the juvenile delinquent offspring of a narcissistic, alcoholic mother. People who said I'd end up as nothing, popping out kids, smoking crack and ending up dead in a ditch. It's the town where a loser who nearly killed me is still frequently seen walking around on the street.I still have some very awesome friends living in Longmont, and while I almost envy their loving view of the place, I simply do not share it.My home life was not as bad or as good as it could have been, but it was difficult. It had a...

Girl Drink Drunk

September 24, 2014November 23, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Everyone needs some kind of a refuge. A place away from home where they can go periodically to slow down, unplug and recharge their serenity levels. When I lived in Colorado, my refuge was probably the same as every other Colorado resident - some place at a higher elevation, up in the mountains, on a trail, near a lake or a river.These days, my refuge is much different. When I came to meet Olivier in France in 2005, it was my second trip to France, but was the first time I'd ever seen any of the country outside of Paris, which is the best part.I spent the first week of my trip at Olivier's apartment in Montmartre, (which a year later, would morph into our apartment) and the second week, we hit the road. We stopped in places like Blois and Dijon. We walked through castles and ate in restaurants. We stopped among the volcanic landscape of Auvergne to meet...