Flagstaff + I Hate Camping

When I drove away from my apartment on Saturday morning, my plan was to lay my back row of car seats flat, crack the windows, and curl up with the two pillows and two blankets I brought with me when I went to sleep that night. I had struck out in my attempts at finding a bed or couch to borrow for the evening and because I own no camping equipment I had resigned myself to the back of my car. It could be worse, right?

Let me start at the beginning of the story. This weekend I took a relatively spontaneous trip to Flagstaff. A past coworker of mine got hitched and scheduled the services of my fledgling floral empire (Hoot & Holler) for her big day. I drove up, flowers in tow, and in 2 1/2 short hours I encountered a 50 degree drop in temperature. Arizona is a strange state because a quick drive can take you from the desert to the mountains or a lake and you can experience all sorts of temperature changes along the way. I had a lovely evening and was thrilled to see my floral designs walk down the aisle (generally I am not a guest of the weddings I do work for). I totally lost it during the ceremony and then enjoyed the rest of my evening laughing with friends, dancing to stay warm, wearing a really cool jacket, and eating many, many taquitos!

At the end of the evening, two amazing friends offered me a bed to sleep in (huge upgrade from my previous plan), and although the “cabin” had no heat or electricity, it felt like a mansion. As I laid in bed feeling queasy from too much tequila, I felt like the evening was one of those moments that is pivotal in your life. I felt so incredibly blessed to be in a position to spontaneously leave for a night, to drink too much clear liquor, to hug the incredible people in my life, to watch my passion in action, and to curl up on a really hard mattress with the sound of a campfire singalong and laughter outside my front door. Here’s to many more nights spent living my bliss.