You Can Take the Girl Out of CO, But …

At the angsty age of 16, y parents decided to uproot me from all I knew and loved in Golden, CO, and toss me into the forgotten state of Nebraska.

Initially I hated the flatness of it all. Where are the mountains? How do people hike? Where do you snowboard? (Answer: In Iowa, on a hill that people have been brainwashed to think is a mountain).

Humidity is something I had only heard rumors about but never experienced. The wetness of the state is something that still haunts me. If you even just think about stepping outside, you’re immediately drenched in sweat — places you didn’t even know could sweat. The upside? Brushing your hair is optional because no matter what you do, it’ll be matted to your neck within minutes.

With humidity comes bugs. Mosquitos gather by the trillions as do June bugs. June bugs are giant flying beetles who will smack their entire body into each window and door every few minutes all summer long — not just in June as their name deceptively implies.

Though the appearance of Nebraska left much to be desired, actual life there was great. I quickly learned that people took school very seriously and that ditching wasn’t an option, unlike in Golden. Sports and academics were taken very seriously, as well.

I decided to stay in Nebraska for college. I went your typical midwestern route and joined a sorority, tailgated every Husker game (GO TEAM!), and had the greatest time. It was in college that I came to terms with the fact that I’ve never been interested in boys, and started to date another girl in my sorority. (Boys weren’t allowed upstairs after 10pm — talk about beating the system!) I kept it a secret for two years until my 21st birthday rolled around and so did the tequila shots.

While I dreaded telling my moderately religious and extremely Republican friends, I found out that not only did they know by that point, but they didn’t care. And with that, I became the token lesbian friend that first exposed them (and their frat star boyfriends) to drag shows and fantastic nights.

My college town had one gay bar which also let in kids over the age of 18. This meant the gays were intermixed with highly intoxicated teenagers, and sometimes it was hard to tell who was who. When I moved back to Denver after college, I was shocked at how many gay bars there were (and fine, I became a regular at Charlie’s for a while due to the novelty of going to a bar where everyone is guaranteed to be at least 21).

When I moved back to Denver, there was nothing about the actual state of Nebraska I missed. I love waking up knowing I can walk downtown or be in the mountains in 20 minutes, and I especially love waking up and not profusely sweating. I love that there are more than two Starbucks in this city. I love the absence of June bugs. I love not cow tipping. (Just joking. I never did that; it actually hurts cows.)

Sure, I miss my friends, Husker games, and having rent that’s a third of what it is here, but this is one great state. And it’s home.