Sonnet 87

And we’ve returned from our Colorado trip, sad to see the mountains disappear beneath a blanket of wispy clouds. As we approached the airport in the rental car bus, I had a strong, negative reaction to seeing good old Tent City—I felt anxious and my chest tightened, and the urge to cry was suddenly overwhelming. I immediately figured that it was not because I’m afraid of flying—once I’m up in the air I’m pretty much okay—but because I associate the Denver airport with leaving IP when I’d visit him during his stint at CU-Boulder. I felt exactly the same way I would feel as we drove away from Boulder on that inevitably beautiful Colorado afternoon that saw me going home and IP staying behind in a miserable job (gorgeous place, but as he told me this past weekend, the scenery is no substitute for job fulfillment). IP would joke with me to get me to stop crying, I’d do my best to hold it together and fail, and then I’d have to fly home by myself without being able to burst into tears (I did not feel like sharing with my fellow passengers, who probably would’ve just been annoyed). Then, I’d have to go home to my parents’ house and have the wonderful “Are you sad?” question asked of me—of course I’m goddamned sad, I want my boyfriend!

I couldn’t believe it when I started reacting in the same manner as we approached the airport. IP didn’t notice at the time, but I hooked my arm around his to reassure myself that he was coming with me. That really didn’t work; it wasn’t until we got our tickets at the Frontier counter that I began to relax.

Aside from that momentary discomfort (and the fact that my name was misspelled on my place card—sigh), the trip to Colorado was a very fun and relaxing one. We did hit Pikes Peak on Friday, but were unfortunately limited to about 13,000 feet—the snow on Wednesday prevented us from reaching the summit of the mountain, but there’s always next time, right? We managed to take some amazing pictures on the ride up and down on the cog railway, and enjoyed the company of a couple from Minnesota. The disadvantage of not making it to the top was that I did not get to have a hot chocolate and doughnut—treats which are supposedly legendary and musts when heading up to the summit of Pikes Peak. Since that moment, I have felt deprived of the perfect opportunity to eat a doughnut. Rare is it that you’ll find me picking one up just for the hell of it. I was thwarted, but I didn’t complain (much), especially since we ended up at a fabulous little Mexican restaurant at 3317 West Colorado Avenue for lunch. It’s called La Unica and we highly recommend that you try it. A good measure of their worth is that their rice tastes almost like my mom’s rice—IP will tell you that my mom’s rice is pretty damn good and rarely replicated in the wild of restaurants. When I find someone who can do it, I’m impressed.

Of course, we hit Garden of the Gods and did a few of the small hikes there on Saturday. We didn’t have time to invest in a good, long hike—we were there for a wedding, after all, not hiking. That didn’t stop us from enjoying clear blue skies (“all the way to Las Vegas!”), red rocks and seeing five grazing deer in the crisp morning air on Saturday. I was a bit afraid that, even though it was cold, I’d freak out at the idea of rattlesnake warnings. However, the warnings didn’t trouble me, and I think I’ll have a better head on my shoulders next time I encounter ones of those things. I still don’t like the idea of climbing around in a narrow space where snakes could be hiding (cough::GoblinValley::cough), but I’ll be fine by the time summer rolls around and our vacation is planned. If rattlesnakes are present, I’ll manage. No panic reaction (in contrast to the feelings brought on by the Denver airport).

We had planned to have lunch at La Unica again on Saturday due to how close it was to Garden of the Gods, but we were forced to abandon that plan once we saw that La Unica was closed. Oh, my heart ripped to shreds and we had to go to On the Border, but we survived. From there, we returned to the hotel and prepared for the wedding, where I looked smashing in my Tocca dress and IP looked dashing in his blue pinstripe suit.

The ceremony was an hour long and interesting even if we didn’t know what was going on or being said. Apparently, the priest took charge and modified the ceremony that the bride, groom and their parents had practiced with the priest. We then hightailed it to the reception, which had an open bar (woohoo!), fruit, veggie and cheese trays. A very nice hotel indeed, but I was surprised that some of the common areas intermingled with the pre-function areas; while this isn’t uncommon, per se, it is kind of funny to see close to 200 people milling about in evening wear and then the occasional conference participant with his 3”x4” nametag proudly displayed as he or she taps away on a laptop.

A couple of times, we were approached by the wedding photographer who asked to take our picture. At one point, IP and I were leaning towards each other with our foreheads touching, joking around and basically canoodling (which we actually tend to do sober or drunk—I think we’ve become that annoying couple everyone hates because it didn’t seem like any other couples at our table were doing it) and suddenly red flashed across my boyfriend’s face. We realized our picture was being taken and instantly turned and smiled. “I was trying to sneak up on you!” the photographer said with a laugh—she then took another picture of us with goofy grins on our faces. One of IP’s friends marveled that we held our smiles for so long without twitching. “I think it comes from the jobs we have,” IP said. I agree.

We stayed at the reception until 12am when the hotel began to shut the party down. It was supposed to continue in the hotel’s bar, but IP and I were beat by that time. However, we did get to speak to the bride and groom before we left. When IP and the groom got to chat for a while, it basically became an “I love you, man!” “I love you too, man!” drunken exchange, but it was cute. IP and I then headed home (transportation graciously provided). He asked me more times than I can count to remind him to email the groom (Hon—did you email the groom yet?) and slurred out that he was ready to talk marriage with me. ‘Kay, hon, do you want to have a discussion in the comments section? ;)

I will say this for IP—he was infinitely more relaxed at this wedding than at my High School Friend B’s wedding back in 2003. I think it’s because there weren’t any pick-up trucks around, and the chances that the Michigan Militia would show up were slim to none. I should post my old journal entry on that day. It was a classic southeast Michigan wedding, and it deserves to be enjoyed by the internets.

Last weekend was great—I missed the Cherry Blossom 10-Miler, but I got to go to Colorado in exchange. That is not a bad trade at all. Now, if only I could finagle it so I can have a Colorado wedding as opposed to a Michigan wedding . . .

However, the best part of the weekend was looking over at IP on the ride to the airport terminal and realizing that, this time, I got to take him home with me from Colorado.