The finest muse

Adventure means very little to me when I can’t spend it with a friend. New experiences are part of life, but a shared experience is very much a deep seeded part of who I am. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sharing this with you, and as such, I most likely wouldn’t have the courage to go out and do many things if it wasn’t for her.

I say “we” constantly in this blog, and while most times I can decently remember to state who “we” are, though I’m not perfect, and that “we” might go over some heads. In an honest effort to be direct, “we” is myself, and Mia Lopez, the spunky chick who I’ve spent the better part of the last few years adventuring with. Sunsets, sunrises, cold and hot, fresh mountain air, humid island air and everywhere in between, she has chased, and pushed, fervently by my side, or anywhere in some which direction, becoming the force in my life that forces me to do good things.


I may not be sappy, but I am nostalgic to a great fault, which puts me at an impasse when it comes to mentioning a “friendiversay.” Yes, you guessed it, the anniversary of becoming friends; gag if you must, but she mentions it every year, and every year I’m glad she reminds me. That completely random night we disappeared into the night together, found a quiet, secluded beach on the delta, drinking a single, disgusting, cherry flavored beer, and staring at the stars, half expecting to be kicked off the very sand we relaxed upon. Weirder things have happened to us since, but none I regret very much. (Remember that time a zombie almost ate us while stargazing in Coloma, CA?)

I owe very much to this silly girl, the person who has shaped much of who I am today. She has nagged me through tough moments, followed me into the forest, the only hesitation being my own really, and dolled the encouragement I have needed so very many times. To this dork of a lady, I say, thank you very much, for being especially patient, especially stubborn, and especially positive and giving me all the good parts of you, while the bad parts of me rubbed off, even if only a little bit. At least you’re slightly a better cook now, but your spice work still needs help.


Here’s to quite a few more adventures, shots of tequila, scraped knees and freezing nights, because I definitely still need someone to follow me into the forest, even if it’s only to tell me its alright that I’ve forgotten ALL of the cooking gear, or if yes, it’s totally fine if you buy that big-ass knife so that you’ll feel slightly better when backpacking. You definitely deserve any slack and more, since lately, you’ve been quite the superwoman, juggling work, play, and a stupid boyfriend.

Eyes like diamonds.

Eyes like wildflowers.

3 thoughts on “The finest muse

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