There are many wonderful things about the Mountain West, where we spent about five days of our Wedding Road Trip. These include:
• Incredible scenery featuring snow capped mountains and horses grazing in rugged pasture
• Clean cities that mix houses and highways with lofts, light rail, and arts districts
• A culture of biking, hiking, and skiing that keeps the population fit
• Good food and strong margaritas (thanks, Katie and Jason!)
However, my favorite thing about the Mountain West? The Sinclair gas stations.
Sinclair is a regional gas station chain whose signs feature a green dinosaur looking some damn pleased that you’ve just used him or her for your petroleum needs – literally. How awesome is that? It would be like showing a smiling tree on a cardboard box, or a dancing cow on a hamburger wrapper.
Even better, the dinosaur symbol looks like a reject from a 1962 ad campaign. Between its curvy flair and no-nonsense green tone, this is a brontosaurus that Frank Sinatra would feel comfortable with.
Finally, Sinclair takes me back to those childhood days when I was fascinated by dinosaurs (along with other “lost world” concepts like ghosts, Star Wars, and the Detroit Lions). Their logo is perfect marketing for six-year old boys…if only six-year old boys bought gasoline on a regular basis.
Sadly, since Roxy Fusion (who is not a hybrid) pulls around 30 MPG, we’ve only had the occasion to visit Sinclair once or twice. Happily, we’ll be back through Colorado and Utah in about a month and can visit the happy dinosaur one more time.
I met Katie through Chris 1, my first of three Chrises. Katie and I bonded over our love of books, horoscopes and psychics. Eventually, we also bonded over our breakups, which seemed to follow very similar patterns. I don’t have a friend who tells it straighter than Katie, which is something I mostly cherish and sometimes fear. I know I can count on Katie to be a true friend no matter what, a fact that has kept us in contact for the last several years even though we are at a distance.
I have to be entirely selfish and say that Katie saved the day after my re-entry into the land of Coors Light. I was lamenting my former engagment, wondering why it hadn’t worked out. Katie, who was witnessed every moment of the end of that relationship, reminded me in detail of the things that expired during what I’ll loosely call “The Asshat Apocalypse.”
Jaime: He was a nice guy, Katie. I think all of the pressure of being unemployed got to us.
Katie: Do you remember the time he made you cry over a stupid car insurance policy? Because I do.
Jaime: Okay, there was that. But remember? He was really entrepreneurial.
Katie: Is that what you call running poetry contest out of your living room?
Jaime: But we had a passionate relationship! He was an artist!
Katie: I don’t call making you so angry that you threw a plate through your tile table “passion.”
By the end of the conversation, Katie had reminded me of stories long forgotten and, quite by accident, had also convinced Chris that he had nothing to be worried about.
All in the day’s work of being a girl’s best friend.
Denver is where my relationships go to die.
Back in 2002, I moved out to Denver from Los Angeles to “see about a boy.” That lasted about eight months before I was back in California, my tail between my legs. Then, in 2005, I moved out to Denver with the person who I thought was the love of my life. Seven months later, I was driving back to Los Angeles and he was hightailing it to Vancouver, never the twain should meet again. When I asked my stepfather if he thought my ex and I would reconcile, he replied, “Jaime, he drove 27 hours straight through rain, sleet, and a snowstorm to get away from Denver. I think you can safely say that this one’s over.”
Perhaps there’s just something about the mountain air that makes two people want to strangle one another. Or maybe it’s just that you can take a girl away from the ocean, but you can’t take the ocean out of the girl. Or something like that.
Coming back to Denver for the first time in three years was a shock to my system. All of the old memories of my former relationship flooded through my mind, causing me to wonder if getting married is really the best idea for a girl who can’t seem to manage to pull off a relationship that lasts longer than two years. Granted, Chris is different than my other two Denver loves, but is he different enough?
Just to be safe, we’ll put off moving to Denver until after we get married.
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