I am a covered wagon

So, I took a trip last weekend.

Once again I found myself stuffed into a plane seat- not an unpleasant experience, surely- I love to fly. I think maybe I'm going to start requesting the emergency row seats, though. They looked a little bit roomier. Especially if I fly with Dan again; I met up with him in Minneapolis and we shared the last leg of our flight together. All six foot six of him gladly sat in the middle seat for me so I could have the window (my favorite) and we could be together. Have I mentioned that he is a gem? Well, I will. He is a gem.

The flights out were about as uneventful as you can get- no memorable turbulence, and slightly ahead of schedule on both counts. Buddy was waiting for us on the other end, looking gorgeous as always, and skinny as always. Some things never change. She had washed her car for us, and I'll admit I felt very swank loading in and driving out of DIA with the two of them. All I have to say is, PTL for mountains. Why does my heart feel lighter when I see that skyline? Why do I feel like I'm coming home, when everything out there was anything but easy? Perhaps, as I communicated to Dan later that weekend, it was because I figured a lot of things out about myself while I was out there, and because I failed a lot. I'm not used to doing the latter, and hadn't (apparently) done much of the former... in all honesty, it makes you feel like a bigger person. I like being a bigger person.

So, we immediately drove out to Red Rocks from DIA, because Shelly's dress rehearsal was there at the Chapel (where she would get married Sunday). Let me tell anyone reading this, if you are ever so inclined, NEVER get married there. The wedding coordinator was a complete alpha Bitch, making Shelly cry on several occasions. They forced her to use at least two of their musicians, which cost $500 a piece... which she told me was a combined total of more than the chapel itself. And the musicians were total assholes, rude and disruptive to the ceremony... whew. Anyway, more on that later. But don't get married there.

Shelly looked great. I sang the processional, and Buddy played keys while I played her gorgeous guitar. I met Shelly's new stepkids briefly, man what beautiful little creatures. They were well behaved, attentive, and affectionate with her. I should have looked for power switches on them. Did I mention that they were cute? I exchanged a couple of words with Dude that Shelly's marrying, nope, don't know him any better than before I exchanged a couple of words. Sometimes, you just have to trust that your friends are doing the right thing, because there's definitely nothing else accompanying your support than faith. I must say in all of this, however, that the place was gorgeous. Well, not the chapel so much itself, it was sort of plain and boxy, but the front of it opened up to a view of Red Rocks itself that was, I must say, quite pleasing. Dan got to stand in for a groomsman that failed to show up (how does that work? isn't that what a rehearsal is for? doesn't everyone have to be there?) and escort the maid of honor down the aisle. She was a little shorty, and reaching up to grasp his arm was definitely the same height as grasping an oh-shit bar in a car for her. One of my favorite things of the day.

We then drove around Red Rocks for a bit, and after an aborted attempt to see the amphitheatre itself (the walkways were closed due to being ice-floes) we headed back towards town. Dan got to see Buddy's basement apartment briefly before we went to Thai Basil and gorged ourselves. That would happen a lot over the weekend. After a delightful dinner, wherein the mounting tension between Buddy and I was broken through about a ten-minute laugh festival due to something wonderfully idiosyncratic she said, we drove back to her apartment and collapsed on the bed.

That was pretty much the first day.

liars lack

sorry about my sporadic posting over here. I've been using the myspace blog pretty frequently- it helps out with issues mentioned in my last post because you have to be a member to read the blogs there. ;0
oh, I am so sneaky, sneaky.

I'm planning on going out west tomorrow for my friend Shelly's wedding- yes, the same one with whom I went through my massage program. At the same moment, I hear news from other friends who may be divorcing, and I just want to tell Shell not to bother. I guess it shouldn't affect me like it does, but I care about people, and despite myself, I find myself caring about marriage, too. I've never done it. The longer time goes on, the less I think I will (and believe me, I'm more than ok with that) but I still have the institution up on a pedestal... and I don't really want to apologize for that. I don't feel at all comfortable listening to people bash gay marriage when 1 out of 2 marriages (in or out of the church) end in divorce. All my close friends that have divorced/may divorce were in the church. I'm not blaming them (I want you to know this, I'm not blaming you). It's just where we're at, I guess.

I want to support everyone, and for everyone to be happy. I don't want to run other people's lives, or tell them what to do, or be anything but a peacemaker. I suppose some might think this makes me a bad Christian. I like to think it makes me a good one.

I just died in your arms tonight

For whatever reason, the theme so far of 2007 is that I can't stop listening to 80's music.

resolutions this year-
no fried foods
no beer
no caffeine.

ah yes, this gives me loopholes- like fast food that isn't fried... wait, that's not a loophole. there's nothing left. wendy's salads. that's it. and cups of beans at Taco Bell. I knew I had something to look forward to. and I can still have wine. and mixers. and sake.... sushi is definitely something that needs to be in my diet with greater frequency this year. jones cream soda is the only answer I have for that last item on my list- coupled with mate, of course, for those 3-hour-o-sleep nights.
ahhhh, to be young again.

ok, so I have a little beef before we get out of the gate here. I've been a blogger for over two years here, but I will erase this thing and change my address if you people who are reading this and then harassing my parents don't stop in your tracks. you know who you are. there is a comments option at the bottom of every post. do you have a comment? use it. do you have a question? use it. every person I am talking to right now has my number, I know it for a fact. I'm not using your name or place in my life out of respect to you- something that obviously isn't returned because you won't respect me enough to come to me directly when you are "concerned" about something. it feels creepy and weird to know that people are poking around here, never announcing their presence, and then completely twisting things I say and use them out of context to harass me and my family. so knock it off.

as a side note, if you have no idea what I'm talking about, thanks for being a faithful reader.
much love to you and yours this 2007, and let's kick out some jams.

peace.