life in laramie iii.

There is a sense of stability here, that I have never encountered before. The next year and a half lay out in front of me the way highways disappear into the horizon, here--seemingly never-ending, far off into the distance. My days have a routine to them. I drive the same roads, see the same trees, go to the gym, sit in my little room with my desk and bed and books. I am content, not lonely or despondent or sad, but then again, not incredibly, overwhelmingly, ecstatically happy, either. It's just a quiet, stable, content-ness that I am starting to associate with Being An Adult.

I string for AP during a football game that Wyoming isn't supposed to win--but they do, in a stunning two point upset, and so when the game ends, I hoist my lens behind my neck and run onto the field, shooting with my camera the entire time. The crowd is its own beast, moving and swaying and pulsing, and I'm in the middle of it, taking photos, and oh man, I love my job.

The next day, my photos are on websites across the country, and it's both A Big Deal and Not A Big Deal At All at the same time. This is what I do now, after all.

I worry that I'm growing up too fast. That my life doesn't have enough falling-down furniture or Christmas lights, or feet stomping down the street late at night. I see it all in film photos, marching up and down my walls, but there aren't any photos, because those things aren't happening. Sure, there are parties, and quiet moments, but it's not the same. There are times when all I want to be is irresponsible, young, full of quick feelings and adventures, and I'm terrified that it's slipping away.

It was one a.m., twice, and me and another photographer took advantage of it, eating Mexican in the only 24 hour eatery in Laramie, pleather booths and idle conversation, and isn't that what being 22 is about~

thoughts // on the election

taken in Keene, NH during the Feb. primary

I'm not going to tell you who I'm going to vote for, because I am a journalist first and foremost, and therefore try to keep an unbiased facade, and my political views private. But I will say this--

My entire life, I've been raised on a steady diet of girl power, taught that women could do anything men could do. But when I enter the voting booth tomorrow, I will finally have the choice of whether or not I want to vote for a man or a woman for the highest office in the United States. For the first time in history, there is a woman on the ballot for president.

And that is to be celebrated. That is to be shouted from the rooftop. That is to be appreciated. White women earned the right to vote in 1920--all women earned the right to vote in 1965. It took 50 years, but there is a woman on the ballot.

Regardless of who you vote for, I urge my fellow Americans to take a moment and pause at your polling place to remember all of the women in your life--strong, nasty women--who didn't have the opportunity to vote for a woman, who didn't have that choice. Think of your grandmothers and great-grandmothers--think of your great, great grandmothers who may have not even had the opportunity to step into those little booths.

 I hope that my daughters, and my granddaughters, (and, hell, my sons and grandsons, too) take the notion of female presidential candidates for granted. I hope they glance dismissively at that form and don't take gender into account--I hope whether or not someone is male or female, black or white, gay or straight, jewish or muslim or catholic or atheist doesn't even phase them.

This is a historic election, friends. Another pane in the glass ceiling has been shattered; progress has been made. And no matter who you support, that is so, so exciting.

[also go vote!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!]

Colorado | A Day in Fort Collins

Fort Collins, oh Fort Collins, you sweet, beautiful metropolis of things. I love you so dearly. 

Moving to Wyoming after a lifetime in the suburban sprawl was a wake-up call for a million different reason that I'm not going to get into here--but I will say that one of the hardest things was the lack of, well, conveniences. 

There is no Target in Laramie. No Dunkin' Donuts, either--and only one clothing store. Which doesn't sound too bad, until you realize that the closest mall is a 45 minute drive (and it's not even a very big mall, either). And, sure, I do fine without them, but it also means I get really excited when I do see them. 

Fort Collins, which is an hour away, has a Target, and an Old Navy, and an H and M, and a Dunkin' Donuts, AND a Trader Joe's. It's spectacular. I may or may not have cried when I first visited this summer. 

The past two times I've visited, I came solely to shop, tight on time--but when my dad came, we took our time to explore the downtown, which is downright adorable. Since Fort Collins is home to Colorado State, there's plenty of good places to eat and shop--we went to Austin's and had some bomb sandwiches, and looked for souvenirs for my mom and sister. Hopefully, I'll be back once more before the snow closes the roads out of town to do some more exploring....(and Target // Trader Joe's shopping too, of course). 

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