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🎀 I moved to Denver in the snow, almost got gaslit into thinking I didn't need a kitchen, and almost paid $2K for it
Kiki Ash
August 05, 2025
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Musings from my move to Denver
I saw a stupid post online that said as you near your 30s, you graduate into one of four houses: Books, Sourdough, Running, or Moving to Denver. Whatever. It didn't just "come up on me" like some quarter-life crisis revelation. I've been trying to move to Denver since I was 17 teenage girl. The desire didn't spring up on me. It's been lurking there like that one friend who always suggests the same restaurant. No, I don't want to try mead, thank you.
LinkedIn Hell
Many years ago, I started looking for jobs the normal way. But LinkedIn is death. Really, death. It's like a graveyard where your professional hopes go to be buried under a mountain of performative posts.
You know the ones: "I went to the gym at 9pm on a Friday and lifted with my left hand while I vibecoded with my right hand #hustle #balance #youcanjustdothings" Or another one: "My employee asked me for a raise, but I denied him because I needed to give him a lesson that there are things in life more worthwhile than money, so I fired him instead #leadership #growthmindset."
Every comment response is: "Wow, you make some great points, Heather." Every recruiter that will ever waste your time is named Heather, btw. And every job application has like 500+ applications after 10 hours, as if LinkedIn wasn't demoralizing enough. While you're drowning in rejection emails and hundreds of unanswered applications and ghosted messages sent to recruiters, you see a sea of posts: "I'm thrilled to announce I'm starting a new role with..."
Really. Death.
A friend tells me you can't get a job "like that." Not really, not without referrals. You need to know someone who knows someone who knows someone. Surprising, really, but he drives a Tesla and his dog looks incredibly regal, so maybe he knows something I don't. But also, it kind of sounds like a pyramid scheme, but so does the whole American economy.
I mostly ignored this advice and blindly applied to whatever job I could find for months. Spoiler alert: I found nothing, so clearly my strategy wasn't working at all.
Interview Hell
Eventually, I venture outside of LinkedIn and into Greenhouse (the GreatValue indie version of LinkedIn), and finally, I get an interview. The job posting is... fine. I show up to the Zoom call wearing business casual from the waist up and pajama pants below, like every other person who's ever interviewed remotely. The interviewer has curly hair and a perfect smile, the kind that makes you distrust him already. If he mentions that in this company, we are a family, I'm hanging up.
"Tell me about yourself," he says, which is always a trap. Oh, you want to get a job? Beg. Anyway, I keep thinking Past Present Future (which is, by the way, how you're supposed to answer this question. Past: quickly, what you've done, where you went to school. Present: where you're working currently or pretending to work. Future: how you see yourself fitting into the company wink*wink*).
They tell me to get ready for another Zoom technical interview with the hiring manager. Ok?
After that, there's a technical assessment. After that, a panel interview. Four interviews, one after the other, during a whole day. Look, I get that hiring is important, but at some point this feels less like vetting a candidate and more like psychological warfare.
Somehow, miraculously, I survive all five rounds. Yes, there was a fifth one. Surprise!
Financial Ruin
So I fly to Denver to check out apartments and stay with family. I tour the one building I managed to book. Everything is LuXuRY apartments now, I swear. They think because they throw in some gym machines, some tacky wallpapers, and rugs, they can bring up the national rent average to sky-high prices even when they stick you in a shoebox. Anyway, all us millennials and zoomers are cursed to pay the tab.
After the tour, I ask the tour lady, "Well, how much are the prices?" She looks at me with her fake nails and fake eyelashes, grabs a brochure, and starts tapping at all the sizes and numbers. I want to cut her off and say, "Just give me the cheapest shoebox you have." Anyway, I almost fainted when I heard the price. Because, oh baby, was I wrong. If you want to live in a shoebox apartment in Denver, you are going to pay up.
I naively think that other places will be better, cheaper, and bigger. Instead, everywhere I go, I only find comically terrible situations. In one place, the tour guy tries to gaslight me incredibly hard into accepting that the apartment would be ok without a kitchen. He was a great salesman, I’ll give him that. For a moment there, I was like, maybe I don’t need a kitchen. Who needs a kitchen anyway?
Another place was super close to my work, but it was almost twice my budget. The blonde lady didn’t even try to sell the place to me. I just think she knew. Enough said.
Snow: My Unexpected Love Affair
And I move to Denver in January, when Denver is all snowed in, absolutely gorgeous. I've always been suspicious of snow on principle. I grew up in the desert, where weather makes sense and doesn't require an entire wardrobe dedicated to layers. But here's the thing about Denver snow: it's like that friend who seems intimidating until you actually get to know them.
I start going to work and finally learn what the company actually does. It's a challenging position, but I'm no quitter, so I take it in stride. My work caters food, which is nice, but every single day I'm inundated by the same question: "Do yOu sKi?"
Well, no, but I'm starting to understand the obsession. There's something about waking up to fresh powder that makes the whole city feel like it's been dusted with possibility. Even if I'm just admiring it through my apartment window while drinking coffee in my pajamas.
"You should ski. You can still pick it up, you know? You're not even 30 yet."
And you know what? Maybe I will. Maybe that's exactly the kind of plot twist my life needs.
The Real Denver Adventure
Eventually I make friends. Doesn't matter that I'm related to some of them. I have legitimate friendship skills, thank you very much. We start exploring the city, and let me tell you about my actual Denver adventures.
I went to one of those Candlelight Concerts (Beatles instrumental). You know what I'm talking about. The ones you see publicized all over social media. And while the acoustics left something to be desired and the candles were indeed fake (safety first, I suppose), there was something oddly magical about sitting in a room full of strangers all swaying to Here Comes the Sun. A mom was sitting with her child next to me, and guess what? Watching his little face light up during Yellow Submarine almost made up for the banana smell emanating from my purse.
Then I discovered hot pot. At Yummy Hot Pot, which has definitely seen better days but serves up bowls of pure comfort. Sure, they have a warning about not leaving anything in your car due to robberies, but that just adds to the authentic neighborhood charm, right? The broth was liquid gold, and I finally understood why Denver people are so obsessed with finding the perfect post mountain meal.
I also love biking. It's the sport for men after 50, so welcome to the dads club, I guess? I made this joke at an interview one time, and one of the interviewers burst out laughing while the other guy did not find it funny. I didn't get that job, but I did discover trails like Windy Saddle, where you can bike up a mountain and feel like you've accomplished something significant before 10 AM. It's probably the most Colorado thing about me now.
The food scene here is incredible. People invite me to Mexican restaurants constantly, and yes, the best tacos are absolutely found at food trucks, but have you tried the green chile? It's one of Denver's secret sauces. I was just at an Ethiopian restaurant anniversary party (one of the best cuisines in the world, by the way), and the sense of community was overwhelming. This city has a way of making every meal feel like a celebration.
Speaking of celebrations, whatever happened to that Peruvian restaurant that burned down? I went there once. The service was charmingly chaotic, they practically launched the food at your table, but the flavors were incredible. That's Denver for you, gems hiding in the most unexpected places, stories behind every storefront, burned down or not.
Finding My Voice
My sarcasm is only reserved for semi-autobiographical stories about my life. Sarcasm is my only weapon and defense against multiple uprootings throughout my life. And hopefully, this is my last stop.
Denver chose me back, apparently. And now I get to tell people about the real Denver experience, the way the city grows on you. From snow I used to fear to biking up a mountain at 9am, from hot pot in sketchy parking lots to green chile with a cult following.
This city is warm, even when it's cold. It makes room for newcomers. And somewhere along the way, it made room for me.
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