Well, I am making a list of all those questions and yeah...there are some doozies. I will get to them soon...but for now, I owe someone something.
Let's call her Utah. Or not. You can fill in the blank, if you wish. I won't be revealing her name. So, Utah. We can call her Utah.
She and I hooked up before Liv was born. During my phase of trying everything to get pregnant and failing. My eggs were just too fucking old, I thought. My mama clock hadn't kicked in until I was 40 and now I was paying for my procrastination.
I had just stopped giving myself the blasted fertility shots and was trying to accept the fact that I was not going to conceive, was seriously thinking of trying to adopt.
Utah came into my life via e-mail. She saw a comment I had made on a lesbian bulletin board and she sent me an e-mail telling me that she thought it was "compelling."
I snorted when I read it, shaking my head.
What a lazy way to flirt, I thought.
But, I answered the e-mail...only being marginally friendly.
She waited a week and responded.
And we started e-mailing. After months of this, we decided to meet in Denver, where I had a convention.
We met for dinner. My first thought when I saw her walk into the restaurant?
Frankly, the pictures she had sent me didn't do her justice. She was not exactly pretty, more like...striking. Kind of in a Brigitte Nielsen way. She was sort of valkyrie looking, extremely tall (in my short statured eyes) and she had what I refer to as a dyke swagger.
She sat down across from me and smiled.
"So...here you are," she said.
"Here I am," I answered.
She told me that the last person she had met in this sort of way, well...was a liar. A liar, liar pants on fire, to be exact.
"She told me that she was a good looking Swede and she was actually a short, fat woman with hair dyed platinum blonde and she groped me under the table," she said.
I assured her that I had no groping plans for her.
She flashed me a smile that I could see had probably worked for her before.
I made sure that she knew it didn't work with me.
So, that night, we just talked over dinner.
She ate heartily, which I like in a woman. And she proved to be interesting, which pleased me. She was thinking of joining the military. She was ten years younger than I was. She loved music and spent lots of time telling me about her favorite songs and managed not to bore me.
We went through a bottle of wine and two hours of conversation.
She offered to walk me up to my hotel room. I gave her a look and she laughed and held up her hands.
"No groping plans for you, I promise," she told me.
And she didn't. We shook hands at my hotel room door and that was the last I saw of her.
She called me about a week after I got back home and we talked several nights on the phone for an hour or two. Once, we talked for nearly four hours.
I had some vacation time coming and she kept throwing out the idea that we should take a road trip together. I balked at first, but she kept throwing interesting ideas out at me. ("How about if we go look at the world's biggest ball of twine? What would you think of visiting the transparent woman? How can you even think of missing a liberty bell made out of wheat?")
With many, many reservations, I agreed to go with her on a ten day trip visiting four states. She arranged to pick me up in her car.
She arrived at my condo and immediately burst out laughing when she walked in the door.
"This is SO NOT YOU!" she exclaimed. "You are down to earth and snarky. This place is swank and high end."
I told her that she obviously didn't know me nearly as well as she thought she did.
But, the truth was...she was dead on. This condo wasn't the real me. A decorator had done it up for me. There was very little of me in that home. And I was intrigued that she had me pegged so early on. I found that unsettling.
She spent the night in the guest room.
We set out the next morning, starting the day, as we had planned, with a plateful of pancakes at my favorite diner.
She knocked over the maple syrup and it fell off of the table, crashing into pieces on the floor and making quite a mess.
It was an auspicious beginning, I thought.
It was a wacky trip. Some days were fun, very Thelma and Louise. Other days were heavy on conversation, long drives on highways with her telling me about how she loved her family so much and how she feared they would disown her if she came out to them. Still other days were almost manic ridden with us doing crazy things like chasing each other in an apple orchard or getting our photo taken in front of a town called Bucksnort with our arms around each other standing next to the city limits sign. Since she was a good head taller than me, the photo has a David Lynch quality to it because the wind was blowing and my hair, which was in braids, was blowing up resembling Pippi Longstocking. She has one eye closed, squinting up at the sun. We look like true citizens of Bucksnort.
We ate like pigs. She ate a funnel cake for the first time at a state fair in Kansas. I tried octopus at a fancy restaurant where I wore stiletto heels and her eyes almost popped out of her head.
We shared a hotel room, but always got two beds. And used both.
I learned that she had a strange fascination for medical shows. ER was a particular favorite of hers.
One night, we met a woman in a lesbian bar who sold us some weed and we got high in our hotel room. We sat in our hotel room and sang every old song we could think of. I have a clear memory of singing Aubrey in loud, melancholy voices and then ordering peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from room service and...predictably pronouncing them the best meal of our trip!
We ended up sleeping with each other twice. It was okay. She was very energetic and so eager that I called her "pup" and pissed her off so much that she refused to talk to me for nearly three hours. I apologized by saying that I shouldn't have said pup..that I meant to say "squirt" and although she tried to stay mad, she ended up laughing.
She confessed that she planned to talk me into being her girlfriend on this trip and I told her that I suspected as much but hey, wasn't it clear to her that we just didn't have that kind of chemistry?
She sighed and agreed. "You are much too aloof for me," she told me. "I mean, you have this freak zone that you let yourself go into once in awhile, but basically, you are just such a closed person. Do you ever just...let go?"
I told her that I did, but, yes...it was rare. That I tended to keep my own counsel, in general.
"You just never really....share," she said.
Well, I thought that I had shared plenty by that time, but apparently not in the way that she wanted.
By the end of the trip, our friendship was firmed up and any attraction that we had mustered in the beginning was dying.
We both choked up when we said goodbye.
"MY GOD! WORLD!! LOOK!! MARIA IS BEING A BAWL BABY!" she crowed.
I told her to shut the fuck up. She did. We hugged and said our goodbyes, promising to see each other soon.
It didn't happen. A month or so later, she met the love of her life, Elle. They moved in together. Elle had a nine year old daughter. They have moved four times in the last ten years and have finally settled in a midwestern state.
They have another daughter who is now five.
Utah went on to get her master's degree and now has a cushy job for a big marketing company. She and Elle and their daughters live in an um...SWANK condo.
And we haven't seen each other since. We e-mail in spurts. When LOST is on, we call each other to compare notes about it.
Sometimes Utah calls just to say hello.
She did that last night. We talked for awhile and she asked me if I really had fun on that road trip we took together.
I told her the truth. Yes. I did.
"I had the biggest crush on you and you could have cared less," she said.
I told her that this wasn't true...that I liked her a lot and that I remembered our trip with lots of fondness and recalled that she was an excellent kisser.
"Was I? Am I? God, I have been married for so long that I hardly remember what it was like to go on a road trip and be so silly and passionate with a woman that I really didn't know all that well," she said.
I told her that yes, she was an excellent kisser. I vividly recalled that.
"This is going to be blog fodder, isn't it?" she sighed. She reads my blog.
I told her that I thought it would be good blog fodder. Did she mind?
She said no, just to not write about the time on the trip when she got a bloody nose...
Well, I won't go into the details....
And hey, Utah?
Thanks for the good times, and this will always remind me of you, squirt.
Love to Elle and the girls....