The Wild West

I was feeling a little stir crazy this past weekend, so I figured, why not drive to Colorado? I have been talking with a gentleman that lives there for the past six months. We always toyed with the idea of finally meeting each other. I was sick of waiting and I was curious to actually meet. His pictures on facebook displayed a solid six pack which helped in my decision making process. So I put on a diaper and drove straight through the seven hour drive. (a discreet joke for those of you that know the astronaut story).


Part of living at home, is that everyone knows where you are at any given moment. So I knew when I announced that I was taking off for Colorado I would create a shit storm of questions. I was in mid discussion with my mother, when my grandmother came over, and then my sister, and then my brother and his wife. All starring at me wanting to know why I was driving to Colorado.

How do I look my family in the eye and tell them, I'm driving all that way to check out this new food place that serves chicken wings?


He looked exactly how I pictured him; tousled hair, sly smile, blue jeans, and a tight white t-shirt. Cowboy confidence.


My family, especially my mother, were concerned about me meeting some unknown cowboy in the middle of Colorado. I was relentlessly grilled on all his vitals. They were worried that my body would later be found in the woods, murdered.

They always have a way of sucking the romance out.


He made me feel comfortable in his home. It was clean, shiny and new. Not a scary hoarder and bodies in the closet as my family had warned. He actually cooked me dinner and gave me a tour of his.....tiny town..... with it's cute old fashioned buildings. I had a good time....but.....

He had a few yellow flags.

Here's the variations of flag warnings-or the levels.

Red Card: Do not continue contact. Psycho, smokes, doesn't want children.

Red Flag-serious deal breaker, which takes some serious consideration to continue the relationship (nasty temper, mean to people, bad hygiene, no job, etc.)

Yellow Flag-A concern, a small annoyance to take note to form the whole picture ( drives fast, curses too much, doesn't floss, etc.)

We will see with time if this cowboy's yellow flags turn into red flags. It's his turn to take the seven hour drive.

The Shirt Pocket

When does slightly strange become too strange? I usually shrug must people off when they come into the gallery and may seem to have a few quirks, but what happens when they don't just pop into browse but have now made it a regular visit?

A gentleman has started to make the gallery his home. He seems to have appeared for no reason, like he blew in with the wind. Now he comes in three times a day and never seems to have the desire to leave. Or any sort of a home or schedule.

Besides talking your ear off, he loves to show people a newspaper clipping in his shirt pocket.

He slides it out and whispers, "I keep it close to my heart."

Ssstrange!

This is not just any clipping, but a picture of a very young violinist for the Utah Symphony. I wonder if she has any idea that he carries it around? Maybe it's best to remain in the dark?

I can understand liking a celebrity and starting a blog, but hey, even I don't carry Stanley's picture in my pocket. If I start, I pray my family has an intervention.

I just hope one day he doesn't slide out the clipping and I glimpse that the girl has been replaced by my face.

The Sexcapades!

It's Autumn in New York City and I started to get the sense that it was also mating season.

I began to be enlightened as I was waiting on the sidewalk to meet a friend for lunch, an impeccably dressed businessman approached, grinning. He strolled passed and then paused and turned around as if he had something important to share with me.

"Hi!" He confidently stated, " You are my dream girl. I want to totally bend you over. If you would like to F*&$ please give me a call," and handed me his card. And with that he quickly turned and briskly walked away.

Speechless, I starred after him holding his card. Feeling offended, confused, and mortified. Was I wearing something provocative? No. I had a plaid shirt and jeans on. Strange. I also wondered if his approach ever worked?!

I chalked up the experience to a random event and decided to just meet my friend over at his apartment. As I was navigating my way, a few construction workers started to scream obscene things at me. Again, I was completely puzzled as to what would provoke such a reaction. I hadn't put on my pheromone perfume today? Hmmm?

My friend "Frank" was waiting outside and greeted me with a friendly smile. We hugged and patted backs. It had been awhile since we had seen each other and we had only met once. I used to date his best friend and we had met when his friend flew me to New York for a weekend. I sent "Frank" a text to let him know I would be in town and he offered to show me around and be my guide. Not knowing the city, I eagerly accepted.

We headed towards Broadway as he explained the lay out of Manhattan. He pointed to all the highlights as we tried to make our way through the hordes of people. It was fashion week, so many of them were towering women in spiked heels, with eccentric makeup, which all reminded me of what a modern day Geisha would look like.

We eventually made our way to Bryant Park, which is in the heart of the city. Trees lined the sidewalks and lush vegetation spilled over planters, as couples lounged in chairs reading newspapers and sipping drinks. We joined the midst of bodies, with our ice cold beers.

The conversation never seemed to wane as he had so much to tell me about living in the city, he also told me more about my past boyfriend and the long divorce he was still facing. We chatted until the sunlight started to fade and I remembered I was meeting another friend of a friend for dinner.

As he walked me back to my street, he suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into a dark secluded bar and started to kiss my neck. I laughed in surprise and at his spontaneity, but pulled away because he was still the friend of my last boyfriend. He assured me that no one would get hurt and that if we kept it all between us-his friend, and "Franks" wife would never find out.

What? His wife? "Frank" was married?

Nervously I laughed, trying to make light of the situation, while my mind flashed back to the memory of dating his friend, who told me he was divorced, but was actually still married as well. Not again.

"I need to head back to my apartment and meet some friends for dinner." I said, trying to make him believe my excuse to escape.

He casually threw out an idea "Why don't we head back to my apartment and you could give me a blow job." He smoothly stated.

"No." I firmly spouted. Quickly losing my sense of humor.

He again insisted and started to throw some sort of tantrum with his hands.

I waved goodbye and pratically ran away. He acted like his wife and sex were as meaningless and casual as getting a cup of coffee.

New York seems to be a place where every one's sexual lifestyle is open for public or private viewing. What's usually kept behind closed doors and in the bedroom seems to be out in the open morning, noon, and night in this city. The City that never sleeps.

Are you Serious!?

"NEW YORK - SEPTEMBER 15: Actor Stanley Tucci is seen around Lincoln Center during Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week on September 15, 2010 in New York City."

Where was I??? I was just four blocks away in my apartment! I thought about going to check out the fashion scene and just hang around outside, but I knew it would be a mad house, so I opted for a burrito and a movie. Great! Just great! My one chance to spot Stanley and I missed it. Lol! And if I did see him, what would I do? I guess just stare like a crazy stalker person?

A Lazy Afternoon

I'm about to head out the door again to stroll Central Park one last time before I head back to Utah. New York is teaming with people all going about their daily lives. It's amazing in a city full of millions one can still feel so alone. I'm trying to block out that this time last year my husband ended our marriage. I've moved on and keep trying to put time and miles between my old life and me, but sometimes the grief comes creeping back. I mourn the loss of the hope of unconditional love and trust. That if I do find someone I care about in the future that they too won't one day wake up and find me "human".

I watch a couple lay in the shade. The man is leaning over and gently pushing the woman's hair behind her ear. An intimate moment between the two and they seem so in love. I ponder if it's a new relationship and if it will quickly pass with the season.

Breathe. Savor the moment. I focus my thoughts, taking in the beautiful surroundings. I'm excited to meet my new friend for a picnic. I sit and wait on a park bench and I know he'll come around the corner with his dimpled smile and say hi with his slight Queens accent.

Today may have been the end of my marriage last year, but the present is a gift, a fresh start in a new direction. It just doesn't get any better than laying in the park on an autumn day. And maybe my new friend will push my hair behind my ear and for the moment we can pretend we are that couple in love.

I Might Have Been Eaten Alive?

The sun is coming up and reflecting off the brick walls of my New York apartment. I can hear the swarms of pigeons perched outside my window, as my head is starting to clear. Everything is coming into focus-slowly.

I'm trying to remember last night. Swearing to my self once again that I will never drink again, embarrassed to admit that I was overcome with just two drinks.

My girl friend and I went out, on a Monday night, for a few cocktails and socializing. We met some fascinating people.

Now I'm awake and greeted by a very good looking Jamaican in my shorts. Oh boy......I'll let you know when I figure it out....later.

I'm going back to bed.

I'm in New York-Need I Say More?!

Excited to be back in New York and exploring the city on my own. As many of you know, last time I came with a wonderful gentleman friend, who turned out to be married. One same very important detail that he forgot to mention.

This morning I think I am going to set out for some food, and not just any old food will do. I'm going to take the train from the Upper West Side (I think I am getting the terms down) and ride to the lower east side or below East Houston. It all sounds good in theory, but then I stop out onto the street and can't tell my right from my left or my east from my west. Shoot! I'm already starving...so the pressure is on!

I went to the neighborhood grocery store last night and was getting my nutritious meal of Frito's and Reese's Pieces when a bunch of guys started making weird throat noises and nudging each other. I worried I had a large bat in my cave or my fly was undone. Then I realized they just liked a redhead. Nice that they showed so much enthusiasm for Clairol #6 in True Red.

I'll keep you posted on my New York adventures this week.....should make for some interesting stories....hopefully not too interesting....for my sake.

A Caribbean Paradise

Being from a "Jack Mormon" family I truly know what it means to travel "Mormon Style". A style that tries to maximize everything while trying to be cheap as Hell.

Cheap as Hell Mormon style has a few rules to follow:

1-Do not eat at any place over ten dollars per person.

2-Try to split any meal with at least two other people.

3-When staying in a hotel try to fit at least 3 to 4 people in one room.

4-If a grocery store and kitchen are available, buy all canned food as cheaply as possible. Preferably something with cream in it. (Mormons love cream; cream of chicken, cream of mushroom-well you get the point)

Keeping all this in mind, all thirteen of us (I probably forgot someone or added an extra person) we traveled to Puerto Rico. Our first excursion was hiking the rain forest and swimming in pools with a tumbling waterfall. My dad always manages to hurt himself in one way or another. This time he jumped around in the pool with genuine glee with all the other children and somehow smashed his chest on a sharp rock. He didn't seem too happy after that, his smile rapidly faded and his chest was a crimson red. It looked painful.

After exiting the rain forest and with a wet swimsuit, one of my favorite things to walk around in, we crammed into a small plane and like a mosquito, buzzed over to Vieques island. As we took off, my sister-in-law started screaming. I'm not sure if it was because of the fear of flying or knowing she would be trapped on the island with my entire family for a week?

Arriving at the rented house I noticed a towering fence and barb wire around it. I wondered why the wire was pointing in rather than out.....was it trying to keep people in?

I still like to fondly refer to the house as the "Sanders Family Compound" where people can get in , but they can't get out. Maybe my sister had tricked us into thinking this was a vacation, but really she had checked us all into a loony bin?

With good behavior, we had outdoor time on the beach. Playing in the surf, finding shells, and snorkeling.

I'm afraid to get to close to any sea life. It can either bite, sting, or possibly eat you. None of which I would think I would enjoy. Seeing a sting-ray was amazing. but did nothing to reassure my nerves. No one could hear my panicked screams through my snorkel. What good is screaming if you can't get a reaction?

When visualizing a Caribbean paradise one pictures clear sapphire water and sandy tropical beaches. Imagationing perfection. But I bet they left out the mosquitoes.

Mosquitoes are the enemy. Dousing my body with spray, and I'm not talking about the wimpy stuff, but the Deet birth-defect causing stuff, the mosquitoes would still swarm, refusing to leave any inch of my virgin skin unmarked. At times I could feel my body growing weak as they sucked the life out of me, I would open my mouth to cry out in desperation, and would suck their tiny bodies into my lungs. I was pissed and I mean pissed. I was determined not to let these bastards get me down. It was war.

Using all my brain power to out think them, I again hosed my body down with spray, camouflaged my skin with pants, a high neck jacket, and sprayed over the top of my armor, never minding that it was sweltering outside. At one point I broke down and cried...they were still everywhere, their nests lodged into each pocket of damp grass. I howled and flapped my arms, as other tourists curiously watched my exorcism freak show.

I managed to come away from the trip with at least sixty-five bites on just my two legs. Megan, my sister said, "You look like Quazimoto, but your face will probably heal normally after a few weeks."

I smiled weakly at her encouraging words, one eye swollen and two fresh bumps forming on my cheek.

Funny on a family vacation how you want to spend time with each other at the start but by the end you can't wait to get away. You decide you need a vacation from a vacation.

Those who know me, know that I have to find the sarcasm in every story, but this was a beautiful trip and irreplaceable time with my family. I feel so grateful to be able to see my niece and nephews play in the ocean. They grow up so fast, while we grow older. It's the moments like these that make life happy and make us forget all the hardships-divorce, mosquitoes, and whatever "stuff" comes our way.

The Strange Pervert in the Corner

Learning to be single and alone can be tough. It takes some readjusting. I thought I was well on my way to mastering "aloneness" by having taken myself out to dinner without pretending to be reading or texting. I could eat alone and just eat.

Then I discovered that being alone in Vegas is a whole different ball game.

Wondering around the casinos I noticed that everyone was either in a couple or a group. It was Junior High all over again. I was the odd woman out.

I would get inquisitive stares. It was like a lone man wondering around a park full of children, people can't help but think he might be a pervert. I felt that being single and alone in Vegas stirred the same reaction. What would someone be doing in Vegas by themselves?

When sitting down for dinner the host always puts me in some dark corner, probably so I would not be embarrassed by my "aloneness". I feel like I should be wearing a hoodie and dark sun glasses, a cigarette dangling from my lips. Like a "Strange Pervert in the Corner."

Strolling through Caesar's Palace I discovered I was the perfect target for people selling stuff along the Colosseum shops. One salesman was so persistent I agreed to try the latest lotion claiming to make my skin look younger.

Smiling, he gently applied the lotion to my arm and nonchalantly mentioned in a foreign accent. "I would like to rub this lotion all over your body."

I smiled and wormed my arm away. Giggling nervously, I said I had a reservation and scurried off. He shouted after me to come back after dinner so we could continue, which I could only imagine what exactly that would entail.

Eating at Sushi Roku I could see from my table the "Lotion Man" trying to reel in other people. I noticed there was no way around him and my only escape would be walking past his booth.

I desperately schemed how I would pass him without grabbing his attention again. I noticed an exit just outside of the restaurant and slightly to the right. If I stuck close to the wall I could slip away undetected.

Finishing the last few bites of sushi and paying the bill, I dashed to my escape. Sticking to the wall as planned, I was just about to the exit, when my foot slipped.

I was falling forward.

"Shit", I loudly exclaimed.

I hit the ground hard.

My body slapping the floor echoed through the mall. Blank faces turned to gaze in my direction. I cursed myself for not seeing the steps.

I had been spotted.

Trying to regain my composure, I nodded to "Lotion Man" and continued out the door. So much for slipping away undetected.

Maybe I'm not as comfortable eating alone as I believed. And maybe not my eating alone had earned me the title of "Strange Pervert in the Corner", but my actions of an awkward escape?