He's thinking, "Being a lone wolf is overrated."
Now as a person who has spent many sleepless nights in the Alaskan back country by myself realizing that I am not at the top of the food chain, I am frightfully excited about this. Will my descendants have to backpack through wolf-infested forests in CA? Maybe. Will we humans start realizing that we are edible? Maybe. Will it maybe make us humans HUMBLE in terms of the whole scheme of things? Hopefully! Wolves!!! Exciting!
Hello Ladies, do I look available to you?
It was accusatory. Oh yes it was.
Because why, after months of monogamous bliss, and after months of a profile pic of the two of us snuggling -basically announcing to the web world that we were forever embedded into each other hard drive- WHY oh why would he change it to an old picture of himself, looking dashing as he peered under a heavy fall of eyelashes with a ‘come hither ladies’ look? And WHY would he do it when I just happen to be out of town on a backpacking trip with the girls?
1 Comment on SAF Seeking... He changed his Facebook profile pic!
I wish I could show you my pictures, but my camera barely survived the trip.
He was a strong man, big piercing blue eyes, but his common judgement told him that it was too much of an obstacle to safely surmount. We watched his back disappear into the foliage.
There were three of us left now. We looked down the 15 foot waterfall. It is late Spring in Utah and the water was high. What is usually a scramble and a jump down was now a fully-fledged turned on fire hydrant. We were backpacking thru “The Barracks”, a bunch of beautiful rarely-traveled narrow canyons outside Zion National Park. Nothing big or strenuous, just kinda chilling and enjoying the scenery.
Luddites: the original "Rage Against The Machine"
I know I’ve been stressed lately because I’ve been drinking a lot of margaritas and glasses of wine lately. Let’s face it, I’m so out of it. I try to keep up, but I am technologically-deficient, socially-networkingly dumb, and just plain out of touch. I don’t GET IT. I’m like that ninety-year old grandma who is learning how to navigate Facebook for the first time and truthfully, I really don’t get the new FB ‘Time Line’ profile at ALL.
All my friends complain about it: “Contact me via Facebook!”, “Didn’t you see my Instagram?”, “I texted you 5 whole minutes ago!”
Her breathing changes. “I’m scared,” she announces.
“You’re almost there!” we yell.
It’s a girls’ weekend and we’re backpacking and rock climbing in Arizona. We’re all seasoned backpackers with bombproof gear in pretty jewel tones. We all dehydrate our own meals. We can tie knots that would make a boy scout cry. And when we go out in the woods, we talk about boys and drink high quality port from a Platypus collapsible drink container.
But this particular friend is new to rock climbing and as hardcore as she is in other things, it is awkward to be hanging from a rope and holding onto a crack with just your fingernails.
“I want to come down.”
I'll wear a harness with YOU!
“I’m Vietnamese.”
Oh my god, he’s hot.
“So, what brought you down to LA?”
For every women, sexy is different. Sexy for me is the scent of a man (not that cologne stuff, that completely kills my nostrils) and sexy is when a man is completely at ease with himself and doing something he loves. I’m not good at bars. We- men and women- stand around looking like goofs and leer at each other with our eyes saying, “You checking me out? Au contraire mon frere, I’m checking YOU out.”
Oh give it to me. No I was kidding.
I bet Jesus is better than Jimi Hendrix!
Jesus has come back from the dead, Hallelujah! Happy post-Easter everyone! Now, whether you believe in Jesus or not (apparently he was a hot, sexy man who had a faithful posse and got in trouble with the law all the time…. A classic bad boy! Meow!), Easter is that 4 month mark in the year to look around and see if you can resuscitate any of those New Year’s resolutions (get back in shape) OR, Easter is a good marker to sit and reflect on how great the world is: Look! Flowers are blooming, birds are singing, rabbits are multiplying, Cadbury cream eggs are on the shelves, and darn, everyone DOES look good in pastels!
Rick and Lisa from Robotech: TRUE LOVE dammit!
I want to see a Disney (or Touchstone or Pixar or whoever is controlling our children’s thoughts now) movie, a full-length animated cartoon featuring top of the line 3-D animation, on HOME REMODELING. I want to see Cinderella and Prince Charming waking up and discussing what kind of flooring is best: engineered hardwood or actual hardwood? I want to see Aladdin and Princess Jasmine discuss how they’re going to cut costs by doing the labor themselves. I want to see Snow White and Prince Charming (dang, that guy gets around) at OSH Home and Orchard Supply fighting over whether or not he got the right gasket size.
"Be unto others as you would want them to be unto you,"... something like that.
The text said, “I feel you’re constantly reminding me that you hate it here.”
I have been CAUGHT!
Funny doesn’t always translate via text. He can’t see me slap my knee and go “Hyuck yuck yuck!” to emphasis the joke. Sucks cuz I WAS being passive-aggressive. The grain of truth stuck out more than the joke.
I didn’t want to go back to LA. I had tried to joke about it via text, “Oh, don’t make me go back to LA!” I had cheerfully written. But he could see right thru my fake-ass facade and called me out on it.
Darn, I thought Southwest had a better safety rating!
“Uneventful flight?” my head started spinning. “Like what kind of events am I being ‘uneventful’ about?” Thought thought thought. “Suicide bomber?” “Plane losing fuel?” “Fuselage being ripped open above me?” By the time my foot hit the pleasantly sliding glass door of Tucson International airport, I was a walking ball of vomit just looking for the nearest plant to empty my coffee lunch.
You see, I have a huge fear of flying. I know, I’m a big fat pussy cat, right? “There is more danger in driving than flying!” “You’re more likely to get run over by Muni than be in a plane crash!” I KNOW!!!!!
Ah LOVE!
Oh the glories of sleeping next to the man I love! Nookie at night, nookie by day, nookie on call! At night we fall asleep while staring deeply into each other’s eyes and sharing deep pillow talk: “You’re so beautiful.” “No, you’re beautiful!” “You smell good.” YOU smell good!” In the morning, I am greeted by butterfly kisses, tickles, and a morning cup of tea brought cheerfully to my still-crusty-morning-eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” “No, YOU’RE beautiful!!” “You’re so cute when you wake up.” “No, YOU’RE cute…”
Giggles! Laughing! Intertwined tanned and impossibly smoothly shaved limbs tangled in Downy-scented freshly-washed and softly-pastelled 1500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets! Hardwood floors! Skylights! It’s like a commercial for lotion. Everything is PURRRRFECT!
Precious life, given and taken.
It’s grey outside, a rarity in otherwise sunny Southern California. And the world feels grey.
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