a long time to hang in the sky.

(note: this is kind of a crappy post. i wrote it over the course of a month so it's all disjointed and alternatingly angry and glad. but i'm not one to let a to be continued hang out in the universe too long. that's just asking for it.)

to begin writing this, i had to go back through the photos we took in santa fe. i think i had blocked most of it from my memory to avoid the painful reality that i do not live there.

santa fe is a really special place. one of those places where—and maybe this is just something i do—you sort of walk around scowling at all the folks you perceive to be residents. because, why are they so lucky? and why are you still residing in the fifth circle where the grass is so dead* it crunches like cheerios under your feet?

the only picture i have of downtown sf. i was busy.

i have some envy issues, i’ll admit.

so i looked through the photos of santa fe. and they could be categorized under the following headings. 1. giant smiles. 2. mexican beer. 3. the pool.

we went to the new mexico history museum, which isn’t a normal activity for us on vacation (i try to avoid all learning opportunities and instead seek out ways to challenge my fear of heights. (see: the blue ridge parkway. sacré-coeur. santa cruz pier cable cars. rio grand gorge bridge. the pacific coast highway. lookout mountain. and coming up later: pike's peak!)) but, both of us having grown up on the east side of this big country, we felt like we had everything to learn about this place, its history, and culture.

mostly though, we enjoyed learning about its food. blue corn and green chiles. avocados like whoa (avocadwhoa's?). we were both looking forward to trying the famous margaritas at maria's, a santa fe right of passage, but i forgot my id (haven't aged since 17, kids!).

paul didn't seem to mind that only he was drinking.

the evenings were irresistible. the breeze and the copper sky. we sat on our little plastic hotel chairs with our feet on the rail and talked about how much we hated the stupid people who lived here.

alas, we had to leave santa fe and move on to taos, a smaller, crunchier version of its capital cousin. in taos we kept our Respectable Vacation streak alive by going to the kit carson museum. do you know about this guy? the things they don’t teach you in ohio. (could fill a museum.)

we found an amazing chinese/japanese restaurant in taos and we ate there for lunch and dinner one day. (we’re learning that when you live in a small town, part of the fun of vacation is simply eating the kinds of food you can’t get at home. even if it's sesame chicken. or, um, papa johns.)

we also stood in wonder at the rio grande gorge, duran duran pulsated through my brain.

it was on to colorado springs a few days later, to see the big kid mountains. road mix blaring.

since paul had not sufficiently terrified me on this vacation (i felt like the high road to taos had done the trick, but alas), he decided we needed to drive to the top of pike's peak. i should have said no. i wanted to say no. but i said something more like, "sure. yeah. let's totally drive up a 14,000-foot mountain. sounds great. terrific, really. nothing i'd rather do."

i have some people-pleasing issues, i'll admit.

thirty minutes and twenty-four dollars later, i was struggling to breathe through gritted teeth.

let me tell you one thing about the pike's peak highway, ok? there are no guardrails.** (this has to be a mistake. do you think the department of transportation knows about this?) at about the 10,000-foot mark, you're on your own. floating in air. which might have been fun except for the down-bound cars careening by and my haywire sense of self-preservation.

so, i did what any grown woman would do. i started crying. weeping. big, blue crocodile tears. stuck my bottom lip out, too, for effect. and i looked at my husband and said, "i do not like this. i am not having fun. i want to go back down."

to which he replied: "ashley, we paid 24 dollars to do this. we're driving to the top."

paul knows how to talk to a lady, y'all.

in the end i made it by putting my forehead on the console while screeching to paul to keep his (expletive) eyes on the (expletive) road. he was having a fantastic time, let me tell you.

and just to prove that i am not exaggerating for literary purposes...paul captured this video at the top. luckily the camera died before i had to explain myself. please ignore my dirty hair.

i'm prouder of this scene.

and that was really it. after colorado springs we hit the road for salina, just to split up the drive home. we ate some amazing hamburgers there. the hotel was so-so.

the southwest is my new favorite place. if i was rich enough, i'd become one of those weird people who hangs dried chili peppers in their kitchen and wears nothing but turquoise and bone. instead i'm rocking the same old sterling silver and my house is devoid of any dangling chilis.

all i have left are the photos.
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*i am happy to report the grass is coming back to life. it seems the days of 189-degree weather are over. for now.
**to be completely accurate, there are a few measly strips of guardrails. in all my hysteria, ten feet of metal once a mile did nothing to comfort me.