Battling loneliness and finding relationships in Colorado’s deceiving beauty.

When I decided to move the wondrous landscape of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains on my own, I never considered the toll nature may take on my emotions.

Having lived largely independently since college, I escaped alone from the busy, man-made beauty of Chicago streets for the natural, God-carved exquisiteness of the Continental Divide. Though I found the view out my window thrilling and inspiring, I couldn’t help but feel a powerful loneliness.

“Yeah, it’s good to have a boyfriend or girlfriend out here,” new friends told me. “It can get lonely.”

I started to ponder the mountain life and its effect on relationships, wanting to know more about the mysterious forces behind those fabled rocks. Valentine’s Day seemed as good a time as any to delve into my query.

I awoke at 1:30 a.m. and stepped into the bathroom, determined to keep my mind clear. A minute later I lowered myself back into bed and began breathing slowly to ease myself to sleep. Despite my efforts, thoughts of work penetrated my mind. I lay still, breathing more deeply and concentrating on the word sleeeeep. Finally, after twisting till my sheets were a wad, I turned on the light. An hour had passed. I picked up a book.

I was getting plenty of exercise, eating right and drinking enough water each day. No caffeine after morning, and no eating or alcohol after 7 p.m. I was relaxing in the evening, and life seemed well balanced. Yet almost every night I fought my job for possession of my mind. Had that been the first time—or even the first time that week—I may have thought different about it, but now it was ultimatum time: either I would learn to accept sleep deprivation, or something would have to change.

I decided to expand my dining horizons by inviting myself to the Tuesday Night Dinner festivities at the African Community Center (ACC) in Denver. The weekly dinners are open to anyone in the community, with one pre-requisite: you must bring a dish you love from your culture.

Old buildings make us wonder what they’d say if they could talk. Dave Burrell satisfies his curiosity by ferreting out the secret pasts of Denver homes and businesses.

As owner of Historical Insights, Burrell has written 200 histories ranging from a first decade report to profiles replete with genealogical information.

I love the sweet green earth—love it more than Boulderites love bike shorts—but why is it that when people start talking about saving the earth, most of us can’t be bothered? Why is it that electric buses and free-trade soy lattes go hand in hand, and why does the mention of both cause most of the US population to roll its eyes? What, exactly, is wrong with giving a shit about the planet?

On February 8-10th, the Denver Merchandise Mart was home to the Sex Expo, which contained a tag line of, "Life, Wellness, and Pleasure."

As I walked in, I had no idea what to expect. First, I wondered if my attire was appropriate. Would all the women be in high heels, short skirts, and corsets? Would people move around with leashes around their necks, pulled by their masters?