Where have all the Cowboys gone?

I used to know a cowboy. He was everything a cowboy should be. He was from a small town, and he treated people the way they do in small towns... the way they ought to be treated. He would always say hello in such a way that even over the phone you expected him to be tipping his hat to you. He often wore a polished and proper-looking vest with his suits and walked with a funny sort of gait that said he'd spent too much time on a horse. I don't think he really had, but I thought it suited him and thought so anyway. His name was Robert Redford. Now, you who know me are aware, I'm not into blonds, and he is blond. Robert though, had a way about him that made his hair color completely unimportant to me. He had blue eyes and a steady gaze right into my soul. When he locked his eyes on my soul I knew he could read the story of my life, just for looking. He looked into my soul and loved all of it. The true and honest love you can talk about freely. He was a good man, a very good man. Pure Quality. He and I used to sit outside in the grass in the afternoons and read books to each other. I spent many late nights listening to him read to me the adventures of Huckleberry Finn. At first we switched off reading to each other, but he was so good at making the voices for the characters, he made the book just come to life! He used to pick wildflowers from the roadside and present them to me in a big bunch. Sometimes he would present me with a rose from his grandmother's rosebush. He had an innocent and jovial kind of laugh, the kind that makes me smile to think of, and laugh to hear. It made me laugh even when I was trying to pretend to pout. We laughed a lot. He told me stories of the rodeo events he had done, and adventures of his life. Sometimes we'd have adventures of our own. One black night we went rowing in a lake. It was so dark we couldn't see our hands in front of our faces and we had quite an adventure not knowing what sounds we heard and where we were on the lake. We rowed around a while, listening to the water lap, and trying to figure out where we were in relation to the shore. It was fun and we scared ourselves with our imaginations. He loved adventure, and was always full of one kind of fun or other. One day we went out for a horse ride in the mountains. It was a drizzly day, but that didn't matter to either of us. We each took a horse and rode up into the mountains along a small, and well worn trail. He had ridden there many many times and knew the land off the trail as well as he could ever know the trail, so eventually we went down an embankment, across the river and branched out into my unknown. After a while of riding, we stopped for a little bit to enjoy the scenery and the horses seized the opportunity to snack on the grass and wildflowers that covered the ground. We decided to run them a bit. As we did, I pulled my horse alongside his in an attempt to pass him, and in his typically playful fashion he swatted my horse, which sent us lurching ahead and then with an emphatic buck, off I flew right onto the ground! Plop! The ground was wet and soft, so it didn't hurt at all, but I made sure Robert was perfectly aware that had I landed even an inch to my left I would have landed on a rock and possibly broken my tailbone! And how would he have liked that!? He exhibited the proper amount of lighthearted remorse and brought my horse back to me. He really was a lot of fun. The two of us danced a lot together too. He was a good dancer and a patient teacher. We learned to Rumba together, he taught me to waltz, and taught me new swing dances as well. As a cowboy naturally would be, he was well built and very active. As a cowboy naturally would, he was passionate and strong, and his zest for life was insatiable. Robert Redford was also very intelligent, we would often speak for hours about this or that political view, our theories on various social concerns, and health care topics and ideas. He was sure he wanted to be a doctor or a dentist, but had no idea which of the two. He was always funny that way, very ambitious, but undecided. He needed a reason to choose something. He brought me to a world I'd only read about in books. One that I loved to be in. We were very often at his grandmother's house, and at Christmas there was a train that ran around a track under the tree. There always seemed to be some food littered in cheese that he'd just heated up for me. We occasionally listened as his grandmother told stories of how life was for his grandfather, who was a cowboy out on the plains. Herding cattle and roping and all kinds of things. He would say jovially and in a way that made you wonder if he were serious, that he wanted to have a life like that. She would then reply that she wouldn't let him be a plains cowboy, because it was dangerous and he was her boy. Then they'd both laugh and he would sweetly say, "Oh, Grandmother." He was always singing pieces of songs around the house, and often one about how he wished he was a cowboy. Robert Redford was Such a cowboy. He was such the cowboy that even though when I was with him I felt like a priceless jewel, for how he treated me, I often simultaneously knew that I was but a jewel in his collection of jewels in life. Not that his other jewels were other women. He was too... perfect for that sort of trickery. He was though as impossible for me to catch as was the wind. He was determined that I was to yield first. It was just as well... I would not yield first, and would not be caught by his attempts to make me either. I was to him, a wild pony that would not be tamed. This wild pony loved the wind in her hair. What a fun-filled chase for the both of us. I don't know that it would have gone anywhere had we tried it, as much of an adventure as it would have been. He eventually moved away and he would call every now and again to give me a taste of his simple regality. One night he called me to tell me that he was walking through a large park, it was dark except a little light from the moon, and it was perfectly silent as the snow was falling lightly around him. After a bit of conversation about it, and my daydreaming awe and wonder at the perfect picture he'd painted, I asked him why else he called. He replied that was the only reason, just to tell me of the magical moment he was in. He is married now, to a lovely girl who is his obvious match, and since then I've heard from him only once. He called me to thank me for being such a good friend to him. That was precious to me and I knew what he meant by it. See, he knew I loved him as I knew he loved me. It was often said between us, and often followed with "...but I'm not 'in love' with you..." to which we'd both laugh. Those days are gone, and that's ok. I'm so happy for the happiness in his life. I doubt I'll ever see him again, and I wonder if he is the only man like him. And so I ask... are there any other cowboys left in this fast-paced and materialistic world? I've given up on princes with their white stallions and castles in the clouds, but I know that cowboys really do exist... where are they? I know there's got to be even one more out there, somewhere out where the west was won.

$$$ Cars, Men, and Money $$$

So, I did mention that this blog is about girls as well as guys... I just have gobs of stories about guys. This one is about a girl. My friend Bridgette Wilson. Being a close friend, I have tons of stories, but this one is awesome. So, a couple of years in a row she and I went to California for the 4th of July, always intending to see the fireworks over the ocean. Now, she is the kind of girl that used to change her outfit easily 4 times before going even to the grocery store so you can imagine the time it took for her to get ready for social events. That being said, her outfit, or her hair, or her make-up not being just quite right prevented us from seeing the fireworks over the ocean each year we went. The last time, I had told her that seeing them was the point of the trip for me, and she had best be prompt. We missed them. I was not happy to say the least, and she knew it... I made no secret of it. So she said she'd take me out to a really nice dinner to make up for it. Ohhhh Kaaaaaay, that'll have to do. :) So we went to the Saddle Ranch on Sunset Blvd. We chatted up the hot host-guy, asking where there was a club we could go dancing at after dinner. He didn't know, but spread the word and some guy, we'll call him Eminem, came over to invite us out with him. After dinner he came back around and was pretty drunk, but he knew of a place, so we were gonna go... as soon as we freshened up a bit. We went to powder our noses, primped a bit, and went back out to talk to him. What happened next is a direct result of stilettos and an awesome cha-cha skirt (because it's hard to look bad in those). As we were standing there, Bridgette was doing most of the talking, and I was just hangin' back looking at the other people in the restaurant. Out of nowhere our waitress came over, rather firmly grabbed me by the arm, and practically dragged me quickly outside with an urgent "Come here!" She opened the doors, which were no more than long heavy curtains, and pulled me outside. She pointed at the two Lamborghini sitting by the entrance and said "They guys who own these cars want to take you out!" Well! There was no question whether or not I was going... I am my father's daughter... I absolutely was going Somewhere in those cars!!! But... I had to play a little hard to get, so I asked her whose they were. We came inside, and she showed me the table where they sat. I said, "Well, they seem decent, have them come talk to me." Then I went back to Bridgette and told her that we have had a change of plans. She was involved in her conversation with Eminem and paid no attention to me. A moment later James Gandolfini came over and introduced himself to me and after a few moments of chit chat asked me if I would like to join he and his friend for a ride. I said I would, turned, and explained the situation to Bridgette. All of a sudden, Eminem started loudly saying how he could not Believe we were going with him because of his car and we must be so shallow, and he has a Porsche outside. James Gandolfini interrupted him and said that he has 3 at home in the garage. Eminem started getting a little belligerent with his wounded pride and so James, Bridgette, and myself just walked away. Besides, I'm not really a Porsche kind of girl... I'm a Lambo kind of girl! James' friend joined us and we walked outside. Bridgette and the other guy went to his silver Lambo, which he had recently bought from Paramount after using it in one of their movies... it was a total guy movie I've never seen... cars and stolen money, whatev. James' car was absolutely fabulous. It was a bright yellow Murcielago with the doors that go up instead of out. I got in and put on the 5-point harness. Bridgette and the other guy were ahead of us, and pulled out onto Sunset Blvd. A car passed by, and we pulled out too. The excitement of the situation hit as that engine roared, and the two Lamborghini were passing every car on the road as if it were an obstacle course and they were mere cones. We went flying down the street for a while, and chatted casually as we went. He told me that he calls his mother every week, he is a real family guy, and he travels to and from Las Vegas every couple weeks as well as fairly frequently to Arizona too. He was saying this and that, obviously trying to make me think he was a great guy. He asked me if I was interested in moving to Hollywood, and if so, I could stay with him in his brand new mansion just over from the Hollywood sign. I laughed, thinking he couldn't possibly be serious. He said, "Really, I could give you anything you want, money is not an object." We talked a few more minutes and I asked him what he did to get all that money. He told me that he owns a large amount of the Vegas porn industry, and all I could say to that was, "Wow, I guess it really does sell huh?" James' friend eventually had to go, so we came back to Saddle Ranch, where Bridgette got in James' car also, and I sat on her lap. The hot host guy was outside and shook his head like he knew we had no idea the trouble we were getting into, I pretended not to notice his gesture, and we were off! I had told James that we wanted to go dancing, first and foremost that evening, and he had made a few calls to find a place that was open on Monday nights. While waiting to hear back, we took a quick detour to his new mansion. It was nice enough in the pitch black and we didn't even get out of the car. We came back down the hill and drove to the club he had found for us. It looked on the outside like a castle and had a red carpet that stretched out to the street. We pulled up, James revved the engine ostentatiously, and opened the doors. As the doors came up I got out, and then Bridgette got out. We headed into the club with James and when we got inside I saw that there was no dance floor. I turned to James and asked him where we were, and where was the dance floor? He could see that I was less than pleased with my discovery and told me he would find out what the deal was with that place. He asked the man behind the counter who told him that there was no specific dance floor, people just dance wherever. Oh! Well, that's fine then! Bridgette and I never needed a dance floor before, and if it was acceptable to dance anywhere, then we could certainly do that! We went off a little ways and started to dance with each other. James told us he would be back in a minute, and we shrugged and kept dancing. About five minutes later he came back, followed by an entourage of 15-20 people. James motioned for one of them in particular to dance with me... and he was an amazing dancer! He ought to be, he was a dance major at UCLA! He was also fl-aaa-ming gay and I could see why he was chosen to be my partner. All the perks, none of the concern to James, who just sat at a table nearby watching us dance in an almost creepy way. He refused to join us. As I spoke with my dance partner I eventually got it out of him that James (my apparent boyfriend) had paid them to come dance with us! What??? He Paid you to dance with us?? Whatever, it was a lot of fun, so that was fine. Eventually the night got late and our gaggle of gay guys left us with James again. We had a pleasant enough time with him, and went back to get my car. On the way he asked where we were staying and we told him that we were just sleeping on a friend's couch. He said we would not be permitted to stay in such circumstances, and that he would put us up in the penthouse suite down the hall from him at the W. That didn't mean anything to me, but we went by the house to pick up our luggage and say our goodbye's, as we were driving out the next day. The boys were awake before we got in the house, wondering what that beautiful, loud purr was outside the house. They were quite shocked when we told them we were going to stay at the hotel with James, but let us go with only a word of caution. We picked up my car and on the way I told Bridgette that while he was very nice at the moment, he made an extravagant lifestyle out of having zero respect for women, and to keep that in mind. We got to the hotel and went up to our room, which was on a corner of the top floor, so we had an excellent view from all our windows. We came in and gave ourselves a quick tour as James sat down in the middle of the couch with one foot resting on his knee and arms outstretched. When we came back to the main room he saw that we were pleased, and said, "Welllll girls... what do you want to do now?" Bridgette and I just burst into chatter about how we were sooo tired and had suuuch a long day, and really if we were going to get up early and spend breakfast with him we really needed to get to bed and, oh my, the long drive back to Arizona! I had never seen a look of more sincere disbelief and shock, to the point that, had I been but an observer, and not a key player in the situation, I would have laughed aloud! I walked him to the door and as he turned to go, he asked for a hug and whispered in my ear, "Don't worry, I'm not going to mess this up." Ok, g'night! Then Bridgette and I got to play. There were chocolates, expensive water, little stuffed animals to keep, lotions and shampoos, candies, lots of things, and a cd of ambient music which we put in to set the mood for our lavish night. We jumped on the bed, and locked up all of our baubles in the safe, trying all different codes and laughing mostly in tired delirium. When we finally got around to it, we slept very well. In the morning we got up, luxuriated about a while, enjoying ourselves, and got ready to meet James for breakfast. Our friend was riding home with us, so we went pick her up first. I was expecting that we would be taking the Murcielago again, but then he came out with a regular black car that was far less impressive to me. I think he sensed that because he made it a point to tell me that it was the very best money could buy, it had hand carved mahogany trim and the leather seats were hand-stitched and this and that. To hear him tell it, it was pretty much a perfect car in every way, but for me, it just wasn't very interesting compared to the other one. Oh well, I suppose the Lambo wasn't very practical for a day out. We picked up our friend, and on the way James told us oh there's so-and-so's house, and Hef lives right there and he (James) owns a nightclub in Phoenix he named for Christy... whoever that was. Turns out she's a playmate, but he was dropping tons of names I'd never heard, and it all meant nothing to me. Here's the famous 90210 and just last week he was with so and so.... ok... good for you. Anyway, we found ourselves gaping wide-eyed at the stores on Rodeo Drive and came to a stop behind a freshly scorned Ferrari. James was of the opinion that they are far beneath the Lamborghini and how dare they park on the street. I love the look of them, myself. We went to a restaurant sat out on the veranda in the cool air, and had sushi for breakfast. It really was delicious, and I could definitely get used to that. When we finished, James took us to his new mansion so we might behold it's glory in the light. It was still empty but we played a bit in the rooms and the backyard. It was definitely nice, but I got kind of bored of it and was ready to hit the beach one last time before we left. Well, then James proposed the idea of going down to the Chinese Theatre and the Walk of Fame, and since Bridgette had never been, and I had no objections, that's what we did. Apparently, there is a place that looks kinda like a mall where all the awards shows are, and we went there and browsed through shops. As the day progressed so did my impatience for James. He kept telling me he wanted me to move there, and he would give me all I've ever dreamt of, and that I'd have to get a different car because mine was just not good enough. I think that's what really did it. I really liked My Little Pony, and wouldn't have traded her for some silly thing that had a higher price tag! Anyway, we finally parted ways and on the drive back to Arizona he called three times! I ignored them all. The next day, as I was driving to my boyfriend(James Franco)'s house, I decided to call James Gandolfini and end it. I thanked him for a wonderful experience and for the memories he gave me. I told him that I would not be moving there, and that he could not give me what I wanted. He seemed quite flabbergasted and told me that he not only could, but would give me everything money could buy, cars, clothes, jewelry, social rank, he would introduce me to anyone who could make my aspirations reality, anything I wanted and he would even pay for me to move. I had to chuckle, I couldn't help it. I told him that he is incapable of providing me with what I want most in the world and that, again, I would not be seeing him again. He resigned himself to the fact and we said cordial goodbyes. Twenty minutes later, I got a phone call from Bridgette. "You'll never believe who I just got off the phone with! .... James Gandolfini!!!" Apparently, he had promised her all money could buy and everything he had just told me. She thought about it for a few weeks over phone calls and flowers, and then came to the conclusion that doing as he asked would in fact not be in her very best interest long term either. For which I was very glad. It was quite an adventure, but only one of the many that trip!

My New Moon

Have you ever tried to run away from the thing you want more than anything else in the world? The one thing that brings you the most joy, happiness, and love? I know, it makes no sense to do so, but I have done it. I had at my fingertips the one thing, the one person really, that I want more than anyone else in the world. Edward Cullen. I love him and I have loved him for years. He is the most cumulatively wonderful person I have ever known. He is a very good man, with a soft heart, a strong mind, who took so much effort to keep a smile on my face, try to get some wisdom in my head, and succeeded in solidifying joy and love in my heart. He has made me happier than any other person ever could. He is at the very core of my being. My contentment in life has revolved around my feelings for him, for several years now. So how could I leave him? I left because I could envsion myself waiting around forever for him, wistfully, but not unhappily, watching my hopes and dreams die with the passing years. Dreams of life with him. Life, family, and growing old together. In my mind it had been too many years already. The years kept going... my silly 'plan' was not happening. That was such foolish thought. Time. Who cares about time. It means nothing when all is said and done. I will not have missed opportunities and huge regrets unless I try to do things my way. I see that now. I tried to make things happen my way, in my time frame. When that didn't work I tried to push him out, to cover it from my view, to leave no room for thoughts of him and no thought for what I was giving up. I filled my time with other people, Eric Yorkie and Mike Newton, people who said they wanted me. People who said they would make all my dreams come true. I found Jacob Black, my friend and my distraction. Jacob has been an effective distraction, he showed me a different side of life, he did nothing Edward does. He was both attractive and detestable, for that reason. When I left Edward I thought somehow that he would see me with them, living without him, then giving him a reason to act quickly or lose me. Edward asked me if that's what was going on and I denied it both to him and to myself, but in hindsight, I thought he would come for me. Isn't that what happens in books and movies? He didn't. I can't believe I attempted it. I should have known. He knows I will always do as it suits me and if I desired to go, he would not stop me. Now, I think of him often. I listen to the words of the songs he meant for me, and the meaning behind those words. I hear his voice in my mind, encouraging me, congratulating me, and chidding me with every effort, success, and failure. I think of what was there, what I threw away. We had something that happens only once in a lifetime. Just once. We have both been so consumed by the inconvenient details (that appear as a mountain instead of the speck of sand they actually are in the eternal view) to realize that it will be the sorrow at our pride that will keep us up nights for years and years into the future wishing that things, lots of things, had been done differently. I wish now that I could undo what has been done. I wish that things between us were the way they were before everything got so mixed up. I wish I had listened to my heart instead of my foolish head. I wish I hadn't listened to what everyone filled it up with. That's just the trouble though with wishes... they're made of coins dropped in wells, first stars in the night sky, hopes for handsome princes and dreams of castles in the clouds. Even so, I drop coins into fountains, wait for the first star of the evening, and my birthday wish has been the same for 4 years and will be for years to come... just in case there is any truth to it. But I'm terribly afraid that wishing for it just doesn't make it so. I don't know if it even could be undone, if we could start over. I asked him if I could meet him in Rome, under the clock tower... to save us before it was too late. He declined. He is in Rome, but I don't know where the clock tower is, and he does not want me to come. He is done. I left him and he has taken efforts to mend and get on without me. I could not really expect otherwise. What other choice did I leave for him? I find myself grappling for the truth that I know is there, but I see no evidence of it. It's just air. I cannot fathom that it could be true, it cannot be done... it isn't done, it never has been, it should never be. What is meant to be, must be, right? I want him back. I asked him if he could take me back after the cruel pain I inflicted on him. He said that he could not answer, because either answer yeilded unfavorable results. What can I hear now but those words, "I have been thinking about it a lot lately, every day, all day actually, and I don't think it's a good idea." I want him back. I don't care what anybody thinks or what anybody says about time, or what I deserve, or anything really. I was happier and more content with him than I ever was at any time without his presence in my life. Sure, things weren't perfect, there was always something to work on, something that would have been really nice to never have had to deal with, something he could change or I could change. But I was happy with him. Sure, he wasn't as perfect as I initially thought, I am far from the wonderful things he thought of me, but I love his perfect imperfections, the things that added spice to life... even if sometimes that spice was paprika. Well, that's not maybe the best descriptive spice for it. Most times I was the paprika... he was usually more like rosemary; wonderful, and something I'd never experienced before meeting him. If I could tell him something I would say, Edward, I'm so sorry I left you. I'm so sorry. Please... I know it's inconvenient, and very scary for both of us, but I don't want my life to be lived without you. My shortsightedness was foolish, selfish pride. I can't believe I gave you up, and gave up on you, for those things. Would any of you reading this give away what you have, your love, the person who is your world because he or she didn't see things quite the way you did? Especially if he or she was right? Only he and I know the story, the ins and outs of what and why things happened the way they did. Only he and I knew that no matter the good or the bad it looked like on the outside, we are perfect for each other. Almost all of our strengths and weaknesses compliment the other. Only he and I knew that nothing mattered except what our hearts spoke to eachother. We knew that until I chose to disregard it because I thought that he didn't want me as much as Mike and Eric did. Oh how prodigiously wrong I was. A mere six months later I don't speak to either of them. I have been a fool... for nothing. I would give anything to change this, to break this distance.

Welcome to the Circus

About a week or so ago I get this call at work from Javier Bardem. He says, "Hey, are you doing anything next Tuesday?" "Ummmm... no?" "Well, hey do you want to go with me to the Britney Spears concert, I have an extra ticket and since you and I both like the same kind of music I thought I'd see if you want to come!" "Sure! Of course!" Now, I like Britney just fine, I used to watch a lot of ET TV and she was always starring... this is like 5-6 years ago or so when she was breaking up with Justin Timberlake and all that. I can't say I had even considered buying a ticket to the concert, but if it's free... Anyway, so Tuesday came along and we had planned to meet at a gas station then go drop off one of our cars at his brother's house... ok, fine, no prob right? It was rainy that day, when I pulled up next to him and he got out with a bag full of 7-9 different kinds of beverages... Dr. Pepper, Coke, Mtn Dew, a couple different kinds of Powerade, RedBull, water, and whatever else. He said, "I didn't know what you like." "Um, I don't really like soda and I'm kinda picky with Powerade, so I'll just take the water." No no no, it's all for me to keep! Uh, ok then but I really won't drink any of it but the water. Whatever... so we drove... and kept driving. I made 3 phone calls before we got to his brother's house... and once we got there nobody was home. We went in and it wasn't long before he told me he lives there and wants me to drive my car because he is planning on doing a lot of drinking and then I'll have to drive him out here before I go home... wha-huh? I don't think so. I suggest that we drive separately and he can drive himself home, not really understanding that he is wanting to get sloshed. He decided to get a hotel room downtown, fairly nearby... for $150. Whatever, if that's what he wanted to do, I wasn't going to stop him. We went to grab a bite to eat at a little Mexican place and then stopped off to get him some more beer. I told him I was fine with the bag of drinks he had gotten me before so he bought me a cowgirl hat that he thought I might like as he was walking past it. It is is pretty cute. So we drove separately to the hotel where he dropped off his car and invited me up to see the room. Uhhh, we have like 20 minutes before it starts.... that's ok there's still the Pussycat Dolls before... well, I want to see them too... ok well just for a minute then... ok, A minute, one, uno momento... ok...ok. So 5 momentos later we are back in my car and I asked where the arena is. He said, "I dunno girl, I don't know where we are going." I was like... "Excuse me, Javier, are you Seriously out of your Freaking mind? Do you not realize I have never even heard of this place except when it was mentioned on the radio for something, and I have not even the Slightest Inkling of a Clue as to where on Earth we are supposed to be going???" ...As we all know, I did not say that... I very sweetly said, "Call 411 and find out the address then" *blink blink* He does, twice... because he'd had 2 beers by then and couldn't get the directions out correctly. We drove in circles for about 10 minutes, finally got there, and found our seats. Oh, I have to paint a clearer picture of the awkwardness of how we looked. I was in my dark wash designer jeans, and a cute bright top, with my hair straightened and pulled up a little. He was in jeans and a white button-up long sleeved dress-shirt. It was unbuttoned to expose his whole chest, displaying gold and silver chains. He also wore a black blazer and dress shoes. He had gold and silver earrings and one in his eyebrow that drew your attention away from the thick guy-liner under his eyes. Attention was further drawn away by the gold and silver and black bangle bracelets on his wrist... making the short black nails seem to really wrap it all together. Oh, and we can't forget the massively tall glass of beer in each hand. Oh, and he's about 5'3" with 3" hair making him that tall. The Pussycat Dolls still had several songs left when we got them, and it was cool to catch the end of their show. Actually, I don't know if it was the end or not, but we heard 3 or 4 of their songs. We went down to the floor to find a place where we can see. I got a place where I was super close the front. He had those beers so he couldn't squeeze in as well, and was behind me to my left. I knew it would happen, and it did... someone bumped him, and myself and the girl directly in front of him got drenched in beer. Ugh... now I'm wet and stinky and the girl's boyfriend turns to him and said, "Nice one, Dude." Javier Bardem leans over to him and all full of drunk attitude says, "Do you have a problem with that?" Seriously? Did he really just say that???? The guy says "Of course I have a problem with that, you just spilled your beer all over my girl" They discussed it for a few minutes and the guy said, "Man, I know you didn't do it on purpose, just chill" and then was disinterested in it altogether. Javier Bardem leans over to me and says, "Watch out, I'm gonna deck him... and his friend too." He is obviously drunk so I brush it off. Both of the guys were a lot bigger than him... doesn't he realize that? I am into the concert, and not paying any attention until about ten minutes later a girl near me says she is scared because this guy, Javier Bardem, is going to start a fight with her standing next to him! I get over to him and he shoves his jacket and watch into my hands as he starts ceremoniously rolling up his sleeves. I rolled my eyes, and told him not to, just chill out, and that he'll get himself kicked out. After a little reasoning I gave him back his stuff and he disappeared for the duration of the concert. The concert was awesome, Britney came out and the crowd went wild. If you watch the music video for the 'Ringleader' song, her concert uses a ton of those effects. It was very well done. It's funny... she came over to us only ten feet away and she looked just like she did on tv. Like a regular girl... all dressed up. She didn't seem like I thought a seasoned super star, like she is, might. Just a regular girl doing her thing. It kinda made me feel sorry for all the garbage she has had to deal with because of her fame. She did put on quite a show, it was really a lot of fun to watch. She kept the energy up and hit all her marks. Now, in true Britney fashion, it was kind of ridiculous to see that every outfit consisted of less and less material, but y'know, it's Britney, isn't that exactly what we expect? All things said, it was a total blast and I completely enjoyed myself. The finale was spectacular, with a shower of sparkles coming down from the ceiling... like in the video... but in hindsight it wasn't particularly any less spectacular than any of the rest of the show. It was really fun. Then I looked around and Javier Bardem is nowhere to be found. A moment later I saw his text, "I got kicked out, I'm out front." It was raining again and when I eventually found him he was wandering around with this glazed look on his face... he was totally wasted. He pulled out this pink "It's Britney" baby t-shirt that he'd bought while he was waiting for the concert to end. It actually fits me quite well. On the way to the car he told me the story of how he was "wrongfully" kicked out. Apparently some guy was hitting girls and he got blamed for it and being upset that he was wrongfully accused he started mouthing off to security telling him that he's going to beat him and whatnot. Someone came over to witness that he wasn't doing anything wrong, but by then security was upset at his attitude and kicked him out anyway!!!!! The Injustice of it!!! I had to chuckle... inside of course. Then he didn't know how to get back to the hotel. Again, I told him to call the place... he didn't have the number... then call 411. We found it and I thanked him for the ticket and the stellar concert, and sped off as casually as I could muster.

Here are some more pics/video of the concert... from my camera...Gotta love it :o)

A New Place

This Alias is a tough one... his name is well-known but his face is only in the mind. So paint yourself a mental picture of this man. He was impossibly beautiful, comparable to the Greek god, Adonis. His facial features were perfect and angular—high cheekbones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and full lips. His hair, which is always messy, is a bronze shade, his eyes are golden with traces of green, he is tall, and has a slender but muscular body. That's the Wikipedia description of Edward Cullen.

My favorite part is his eyes. Not the color, but the fire in them, the intensity maybe. They draw you in, and you don't want to look away. They are amazing and are framed with thick, long lashes. He does have a rather perfect mouth as well, and when he smiles, I can't help but be instantly filled with joy. I was in love with him, at least I thought I was at the time. Edward in my mind stayed handsome forever, but this one would melt like the wax in the afternoon sun. (Anyway, I clearly need to go on)
One day he called me over to his house and when I arrived, it wasn't long before he asked me if I'd like to go to dinner. I said yes and he told me about this new little Italian place he thought I'd like to try. I asked him where it was and he said it was just around the corner. He said it was new, intimate, and that he thought we could enjoy a nice, romantic evening there. Edward started to gather his things to go. He grabbed a jacket, as it was a little chilly out, and his wallet, and keys, and we headed out the front door and down the steps. We walked toward where the car was parked and as we got to the steps that lead to the apartment next door (which also accessed his) he said he forgot something and needed to go back up. We headed back up, he unlocked the door and we went in. Then he set down the jacket, keys and wallet, and helped me out of my jacket as he told me to have a seat at the table. I wondered aloud why we were getting all settled. What could he have forgotten that required so much time that we were obviously not leaving for a while? Edward said he just needed to check something really quick... which didn't make sense, but as he was saying that he turned to the oven, opened it, and carefully took out a perfect little pizza for two. He said "Dinner is served' in his best accent, and as he set it down I saw that it was not just any normal pizza. Edward Cullen had made it himself! ...and what's more he had made it from scratch. It had all the things I like and nothing I don't. He took out some plates and set them before me on the table and as I sat in surprised awe, we commenced an absolutely delightful, and delicious dinner at the most perfect little eatery I have ever been to in my life.

In hindsight, he was a lying, vile, snake in the grass that I wish I had never met... so there's that.

When No Means Yes

Wilmer Valderrama was one guy that I really really liked. We meshed really well, he was very handsome, very polished, a delightfully good kisser, spoke Italian sweet nothing in my ears, we communicated very well, and we had a lot of common interests. We flirted a lot for the first six months or so that we knew each other, and then one early December night we were alone, standing in a courtyard with Christmas lights all around and soft music playing... he held my cold hands, and he kissed me. I was smitten. Smote. Done for. We filled the next two months with each other and not a whole lot else. We did a lot and talked a lot and I thought things were going really well. Then one day he told me that he was coming over that night and wants to talk to me. Ok, no prob, what could go wrong... right? He came over a little later, bearing a chocolate bundt cake. Myself and my roomies liked different toppings on cake so he had divided the toppings into three sections. One third had chocolate drizzled over it, another had powdered sugar, and the last had coconut. Wow, how sweet! ... How thoughtful! ...How ...culinary! We fawned over it gratefully and Wilmer lapped it up. I was all too pleased that he was mine! I happily got in the car and we went for a drive. We stopped on a long empty street lined with trees on both sides. I asked him what he wanted to talk about and he started to tell me that he felt I didn't 'give' in the relationship. Now, up until this very moment I had never in my life even considered that I should 'give' in a relationship! I had been in relationships before, and nobody had ever mentioned that I was doing it wrong by not giving! I had been quite content to expect everything, and give nothing! I told him that I didn't think I was giving less than him, and he mentioned that last week, when he was sick, I didn't do anything for him.
What? Of course I did! I came over didn't I? I think I even brought a candy bar to make him feel better! How was that not giving?
Well, a candy bar wasn't very thoughtful. Soup would have been acceptable. Soup would have been thoughtful.
Soup? What, like go buy a can of soup and bring it over? I don't even like soup, why would I want to subject him to it? I told him that to buy a can of soup would not even taste good, and he suggested that I make it then... not from a can!
Well! I knew then I was toast because I have no clue how to Make soup! Who even Does that? For that matter, I couldn't make a cake without a box either, as my mom's recipe book had been destroyed in a pancake incident, and he would just have to accept that as part of me! Well, Wilmer was not relenting so I asked him flat out if he was trying to break up with me. "No, no, no, I'm just saying I would like you to be more thoughtful and giving" Oh, ok then. I'll try. Is that all? We didn't have to drive somewhere for that! ...No, that wasn't all. Apparently our relationship was moving too fast for him. Hey now, I'm not the one who brought up wedding bells a month ago! And it's not like I was going to tell him how I felt first! I know better than that! Hmmmm, maybe he could see it through everything I wasn't saying.... hmm, the whole actions louder than words and whatnot.... so I backpedaled, hard! He didn't buy it. Again, I asked him if he was breaking up with me. He said "No, I just think we need to slow it down, maybe not spend quite so much time together" That sounds like a break up! No, he reassured me that he was absolutely not breaking up with me. We came back to my house and as we were walking up to the door I asked him again, "So, you are not breaking up with me?" No, he replied with a reassuring hug. The next day I decided I'd do something sweet and thoughtful so I wrote him a sweet note, scented it with his favorite perfume, and left it on his car while he was at school. A few hours later he got it and came over. We were sitting in my room and he was saying how with my red hair, and him being Latino, that we were like Ricky Ricardo and Lucille Ball, and that it'd be fun to have that as our wedding theme, with I Love Lucy napkins and such. I brought up some ideas I'd come up with for us to do on Valentine's Day in three weeks and he thought they were great ideas! He left that night with both of us happy. The next day when I got home from work I called Wilmer and was about to ask him about the specifics of when I should make our Valentine's reservations when he cut me off mid-sentence and said, "I don't think you Understand, we're Over, we're not going Anywhere for Valentine's Day." What??? We're over? But...why? "I told you the other night in the car, we are moving too fast and you don't give enough" ... ... ... "I'll see ya around, and call me if you need anything" -click- Wow.... ok... wow... so...... hmmm... exactly how did all of that mean 'we are over'? Did I miss something? Come to find out he later spoke of me as the crazy girl that didn't get it. Well, I dunno about the crazy part, but I still don't get it.

Age... Just A Number?

Josh Hartnett is such a cute boy... and when I say boy I mean it... he is 19. I met him at church when he sat near me and kept eying me until he finally introduced himself to me. Not kidding, I thought he was really cute from across the room... and I only realized he was a bit younger when we spoke. He asked to sit next to me for the next hour and I said he could. He talked to me through the entire meeting. Did I mind? Well... yeah, kinda... I mean, I don't attend church to have social hour. I prefer to pay attention. Oh well, I just had to focus a little more is all. But, after the second time of him talking through the whole meeting I stopped being available to sit next to. When he talks he requires responses. He was trying to get to know me in the middle of the meeting. I didn't see him much for a while, and it was about to be done before it began... until one night at FHE. Josh Hartnett sat near me and I did my best to act unimpressed at the obvious display of trying to impress me he was doing. It really was actually quite impressive! Afterward, we got to talking and I found that he was interested in my interest in accomplishing my fitness goals, and he wanted to spend time with me, AND he loved to work out. I think he saw an 'in' and took it. I saw the cute guy taking his "in" and took that! I agreed to go out with him when he asked me. After all, it would be good to get to know my new work out trainer... right? ;) Now, at this point I though he was maybe 24 or 25. Young, but not too much younger than I. We went miniature golfing... where I had actually gone only days before with someone else. I prayed that a different employee would be working and I would not be recognized only nights later with a different guy. My prayer was answered, and we had a lot more fun than I'd had before. We had a nice long chat over Dippin' Dots and he was so nervous he could hardly function. I didn't mind, it was really kinda cute. I was in a chatty mood so it worked out fine. Afterward we went to dinner. I had said I was in the mood for something delicious... I mean really, when am I not... and when he prodded I said I really wanted steak. I really did, I love steak. So, Josh Hartnett took me for steak. Now, as we are going in to the restaraunt, we are finally getting around to asking the 'getting to know you' questions. Just as we got up to the host I asked him how old he was. I had to stifle a choke when he said he was 19!!! My youngest sister is older than him!!! Help! Oh NO!!! I'm robbing the Cradle! I'm a Cougar! He's been a legal Adult for only ONE year!!! I'm Wayyyyyyy to old for him!!! ... and he didn't seem to mind in the Least! So, I tried to shove down the yelp, close my wide eyes a little, and for goodness sake, just act normal! I didn't want it to get more awkward than I was already feeling at the moment! We had dinner and nice conversation, which definitely helped, and when we were finished he had asked me to come to his house to see his collection of swords. Of course! I'd told him I like swords and he had said he wields them well... which of course interests me! I really like swords and that might make me more of a nerd than you know me to be, but it's true. We actually had a lot of the similar interests. We went and he showed me lots of things he had, things he'd made, and we had quite a lovely time. The night ended late, but it was quite ok that it did. Early the next morning, far too early for my comfort, there was a knock on the door. I ignored it. Another knock and then the doorbell. I waited a few minutes and dragged myself into consciousness and into my sweater and went to the door. I opened the door and laying there was a dozen pink roses and a card. "Oh!" I gasped, those could have only come from one person. Josh Hartnett. I brought them inside and put them in water. The card read "When we get together we Talk like we'll never run out of time, Laugh like we've had too much to drink, Eat like we've never counted calories, Wonder why we don't get together more often. Our times together are some of my favorites" Then he had written, "I still feel intimidated by you, but I guess that will just Be. I had a great time with you last night, I know these are not your favorite flowers but I think you'll like them" He was right, I did. I couldn't go out with him again. Such a young tender heart that was so wanting to be mine. No, that is just Not right and Not fair, and just would not do, no matter how sweet the gesture. I canceled plans and didn't return texts... I would not do anything to lead that sweet, unharmed boy on. I was not wanting to be the girl who broke his charming heart. Weeks passed, actually about 2 months or so passed until early one morning the doorbell rang. I again dragged myself out of bed to find a vase of red roses and a card. This card read "I think about you in the morning, I think about you all day, I think about you at night. Missing you is a full time job." there was a note about how he would be leaving soon for 14 months to go into the military, some other sweet things said, then signed "Yours Truly, Joshua Hartnett" and it had some pictures inside. I sent him a text thanking him sincerely for his sweet words and sweet gesture and asking him not to drop things by so early in the morning. (He had kinda gotten into the habit of texting really early for me which was practically midday for him) He replied saying that there was more and to go look on the hood of my car. I did and sitting there was a box of my favorite chocolates! Wow! Did all of that make my day or what!?! Two weeks later, he left, and we have text a little, and spoken less. He is a quality, and very good-hearted, and charming guy. So sweet, and so un-jaded. I would absolutely recommend him to any young pretty girl, who deserved a perfect gem of a man... her age.

Talk To Me

You know that movie "He's just not that into you"? Well, I'm just not that into him... Johnny Bravo, that is. I mean, I know he's super cute, has lots of muscles, is sweet, and is an all around really great guy who is doing his very best in life... but we can't seem to really connect mentally. As long as I've known Johnny Bravo we have always had a lot of fun together. He's a naturally fun guy, and we always go out with fun people, so we always have a ball! Even one on one we have a lot of fun together. But... the talk never gets very deep. I need that. I need someone who is intellectually stimulating. Fun is never hard for me to find, and in the instance I need to, I create it for myself. I hadn't realized it until just recently when we spent 4 days together, just the two of us. I expect that in social settings we would not have particularly deep conversation, and that communication would revolve around what it was that we were doing. In four days there is a lot of time when nothing is really going on. When he's sitting around waiting for me to finish my hair, there was silence. We could have been talking about... anything. It's not as if I know everything about him, and I felt like he was staying very reserved as to his thoughts, for some reason unknown to me. When Johnny Bravo first arrived, I got lost coming home from the airport so we had a lot of car time to fill... after the initial 'how have you been' and 'how is your family' we didn't really have much to say to each other. There was this Really terrible silence that we were both struggling to fill. Later, I wanted to go to anything social, but that fell through so we watched a movie instead. The next day was better. Actually, I think it got a little better every day. We went ice skating that night and I really was having a lot of fun, but largely not due to him. Something between us was kind of off. I can't pinpoint it, but it just didn't flow. I know, everyone who knows Johnny says we should get married, but I'm just not feeling it. The next day we went shopping and visited a very good friend of mine who was here for the week playing in the snow. My friend and I largely carried the conversation until the topic changed to cars. The last day we went to a dinosaur museum and had a really fun time playing. But that's just it, we play well together... but we don't way deep down mesh well. So, sorry for you girls crossing your fingers... me and Johnny Bravo, that's a no-go. Also, a few months after that I was talking to a girl friend of mine who knows a guy friend of his, ans he told her the most fantastic story! Apparently, Johnny was super upset that we weren't getting married!! He told his friend that we got along so well, that we were madly in love (though it's true that hadn't been said), and that we had made a promise to each other! Well, that promise... it was a promise he made to me that he would call me regularly when he got back to AZ. He called when he got off the plane, but months later that had been it. I hadn't felt the needed connection, so I didn't call him, figuring to spare us another awkward conversation. Dear Johnny... I'm confused... and not marrying you. Goodbye.

Cats... Really?

So I get this phone call from Adam Lambert right? We're talking about country dancing and how that's not really his thing, and what my plans are for Valentine's day,and from just about out of the blue I find myself in the middle of a "non-DTR!" DTR= Determine The Relationship. It's a non-DTR because well... there is no R. And so then can there be no D-ing right? So it was really kind of awkward because we're trying to just "explain what we're thinking." Adam is feeling like he compliments me a lot... and it's true, he does... and I have no complaints about that... but he also feels that I don't reciprocate complimenting. Hmmm, so I'm thinking about it. He has kind of a good point, I don't compliment him on things even a quarter as much as he compliments me. So, I'm thinking about it a sec and what brilliance falls out of my mouth??? Get this... I said, "Do you know what Mark Twain said?" Adam is like, "What!?! I don't Care what Mark Twain said!" I said, "No no no, I'm going somewhere with this... Mark Twain said that redheads are like cats!" Oh good grief, please tell me I am going somewhere Relevant with this... (I'm telling you... it made sense at the moment) Adam says, "Oh Great!! I hate cats! They don't do anything you want them to, they just walk around all the time looking at you like 'I don't care what you think, I'm gonna do whatever I want!" "...Well," I said, "...Don't you think I do that? (silence) What else do cats do?" "Well, they like to be petted and when they're tired of it they just walk away regardless of if you want them to." "Mhmmm," I said, "Go on." "They sit and purr as long as you are doing what they want, but hiss, or scratch, or run off if you don't do it right" So I said, "See, Mark Twain was thinkin' about that before he said it!" " Adam says, "So... what am I supposed to take from that?" I said, "Well, either that you actually do like that cats are that way... or that you really don't like me as much as you might think you do!" Then I jumped into this whole long thing about how I don't want to get into a relationship because when I am in them I tend to spend all my time and energies on that person and being that I just moved here, I want to be able to meet lots of different people and make lots of new friends instead of just one guy and his friends. Well, next thing you know we are both so confused by whatever was falling out of my mouth, that neither of us really had any kind of response to it. So we just sat there a minute and then said. "Ok, well, that was useless, let's not do that again!" Then he says something about how he (figuratively) wrote me a note and I passed it back as a blank page. He could see I was trying to say something, but had zero clue as to what that was. Well, that made two of us. But, nonetheless, it was a lengthy non-DTR and he said he'll wait for me to bring it up next time... phew! THAT I can handle!

Protecting Identities

I have been told, by many people, that the stories of my life are very entertaining. I'd love to share every detail of them, but there's just one problem... a few of the people involved in my life would prefer that their business not be told to everyone who happens upon this blog. Ok, fine, RSM, I'm a creative girl, so I'll modify it a bit. You'll still hear all the stories I would have told you if I had been face to face, but.... instead of getting the names like you would in person, I've decided to give an Alias, a fake name, a pseudonym, to identify each person who wishes to remain unnamed. Now, just to make it a bit more fun, than changing Jane to Sue, and Bobby to Billy, I've decided to name them after movie stars! So, Jane will be Angelina Jolie, and Bobby will be Clark Gable. That'll be much more fun for all of us, don't you think? So, now you can have all the stories and any guessing on who they might be is purely speculation. Oh, and if there is a story that is obvious who it belongs to... it'll be a different name than those that are situational that are not so obvious. Feel free to speculate, but I won't tell for sure! As for my name... I'll tell... just because it's more fun... Chelyse Henderson