Ice Cream in the Beer Garden

So, I just attended this motorcycle fest in downtown Colorado Springs this weekend. Motorcycles aren't really my thing. By that I mean that I do not swoon over them. I do not dream of them and I do not manufacture fantasies based around them. However, I do enjoy riding them. When you hit like 85 and you have to suck in your cheeks so they don't flap around you know it's a good time. The wind always blows the water out of my eyes even with a giganto pair of sunglasses. But I love being able to see every cloud, every mountain peak and I love hearing the rumble of the motor.

So I headed down to this grand event. There was an old guy band there. You know the type. All these guys in their early fifties with too-long hair, too-tight jeans, and a pair of rockin' 80's sunglasses. The sight wasn't so hot, but the music was great. They did all the beloved biker tunes... I guess I wouldn't really know what a biker tune is, but I assume it's things like Born to Be Wild and Livin' In America. It was ridiculously hot, so I grabbed an ice cream cone and stood watching the band. Little did I know, I was standing in the infamous BEER GARDEN - a fenced-off portion of downtown Springs where it was legal to purchase and drink beer outside. I stood for a while enjoying the day when I was approached by two gentlemen. "Well, I'd have to say that's the first ice cream cone I've seen in the Beer Garden." I looked around. Yep. I was the only one within sight that was not holding a trendy plastic cup of Coors. "True," I said, "So are you making fun of me?" "Absolutely," they replied.

I guess it must have looked pretty weird. But what we need in America is a little bit of icecream tolerance. Why must we be so disgusted with a little twist cone? You got your vanilla and your chocolate. There is no better combination. And yet, the world just isn't ready for it. It breaks my heart to think about what would have happened if I had been consuming Rocky Road.

I won't even mention Butter Pecan.

Ahhhh... Mr. Mayer

so, i would have to say without a doubt that i am an idiot for not going to more concerts. how embarrassing is this - i am a music teacher and the last concert i was at was amy grant, house of love tour in 1996. lame.

i sat like twenty rows back for john mayer this weekend and it was for sure one of the highlights of my year. i got there and everything was nice. people were milling about finding seats and bitching at the ushers. lovers were laying out their blankets and cracking open thier picnics. the vendors were trying to make sure their money didn't blow away in the wind and i was flirting with the margarita man. and then John got onstage and perhaps it was the ambience or perhaps it was the delicious quart of margarita in my belly but i felt like i was a twelve-year-old with a crush on Corey Haim or something. i was so excited to see him up there and to watch his band. it was almost surreal.

i know that sounds lame. he's just a man-person just like every other man-person i know. but this beautiful man-person was singing me into this weird place between reality and a dream and it was flippin' cool. Stop This Train... In Repair... oh, not to mention The Heart of Life. such a beautiful picture of real life - not all-shined-up-and-ready-to-impress life, but real-in-the-gutters and just-trying-to-make-each-day-beautiful life.

and when i read all his rants on zombies and cool inventions like a clip to hold a fajita together, i know that he and i would laugh non-stop. so john mayer, you should think about calling me and we can fill our bellies with chili dogs and then try not to puke at Elitches. it would really be a good time.

Take Me Away

I am completely addicted to other places. I don't know what it is but I fall in love with the cuisine, the music, the people, the hustlebustle or the laid back atmosphere. I had always thought I was much too scared to leave my home and to just take off and start up a new life in a new place all alone. I sat in a little open-air restaurant consuming the most delicious fish tacos and drinking jamaica and it struck me that I could do it.

Of course, it would be nice to go with someone. But if it came down to it and I had to go alone, I would pack a couple bags of clothes, box up my bike and my guitar, and I'd make sure my dog had someone to look after him while I was gone. And I would just go. Scary at first, I think... but I could do it.

So my plan is to spend this year learning Spanish. Maybe get my Masters underway. I'll try a teacher exchange program somewhere in coastal Mexico or maybe New Zealand. And then I'll go get lost somewhere marvelous.

Lightning

I first fell in love with storms while I was flying in an airplane. We were flying above the clouds and just a little way off in the distance, I watched a storm. I never saw the lightning bolts, but the way the light illuminated the clouds was breathtaking. And even now, I can't take my eyes away from a good storm. There is something about the awesome power... the incredible noise and the stunning vision. I love the not-knowing, too. The air is on edge but you have no idea where it is going to strike. It is the most poetic and beautiful picture I think I've ever seen. I could sit outside for hours in the rain, just watching the storm surround me.

Losing Out

Today I lost my best friend. Not in the way that many people have lost their best friend... but I'm not sure it was any easier.

I remember when I first fell in love with my husband. He and I were relaxing one day. And he spent a long while looking at my armpits. He traced his finger across my skin and just looked for a while. I know. Sounds kind of nasty. But I realized then that if he loved the nastiest part of me, then he was a keeper. We had a wonderful relationship. My best friend. My partner in crime. My confidant. And it is a beautiful thing to be so comfortable with someone.

And now I look at where this beautiful thing has gone. I realize I created most of the damage. I can't begin to express my sorrow over this. I lost the most valuable thing in this world. So today, my heart is heavy. And I suppose I'm terrified knowing that I may have lost the last chance I had at being truly loved. Maybe I will never be comfortable with anyone again. I suppose that's the price I paid for not taking care of what I had to begin with.

A new day begins tomorrow...

Why Vegas Is Crazy

So, my first trip to Vegas... how exciting. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I came away with some of the most hilarious stories. Why have I not travelled more? That has got to change.

So, our last night in Vegas we were living it up. I had not seen Elvis anywhere. And when a girl goes to Vegas, you know she can't leave until she sees the King. I was super excited to see a middle aged totally stylin' Elvis coming down the Strip. He stopped so I could get a picture on my phone. I will have you know - the smile on my face is totally fake. That dude was groping me big time all up the side of my body. I couldn't get away from him fast enough. What a nasty freak.

Of course, right as I'm stepping away, one of the girls with us comes around the corner and she's like, "OH, ELVIS! We have to get more pictures!!!" I offered to be the one to take the photo but she wasn't having it. So, of course, all the girls in our group hand their cameras to strangers who have no idea how to work the damn cameras. And there I am standing next to NASTY Elvis being finger groped by what I can only guess is an ex-convict with Hepatitis B, crabs, and gonorrhea while some slow-ass tourists figure out how to push a button.

And so what we have is a photo of six beautiful, smiling women, one freak-nasty Elvis.... and me. With a look of pure disgust and an old man's hand about 2 centimeters away from getting a handful of booby.

Sappy, But True

Women are different. We all know that. We cry when someone else cries. We need a little reassurance every now and then of how someone feels about us. We pick up on social cues better than men. We dump guys for reasons like, "He was rude to the waiter." Some of us are neurotic. Some of us are chill. But I imagine most of us are a healthy blend of the two.

Men probably have no idea what it is about them that makes us want to be around them. Their strength. Their initiative. Those are all good. But the one thing that has absolutely taken me is how a man looks at a woman. It's in all the guy-is-crazy-for-the-girl movies. There's that one moment where the guy says everything with just a look. And normally, I wouldn't believe that it was real. But I've seen it. I've been the girl. And that moment is totally intoxicating. For that moment, as ridiculous as it sounds, the girl knows she captivates him. She knows that she means the world to him and that he would do anything for her. And that, above anything else, is the reason a girl falls in love.