A state, I might add, where my abuse continued! First, it was in Glenwood Springs. I was taken on an Alpine Slide at the Cheesiest-Amusement-Park-In-The-West (yes, the ride was awesome, but I think part of that was adrenaline and fear for my life thing, I mean, the park had her sign a waiver in case she died, she didn't have to sign a waiver in Utah for those rides, and furthermore, I didn't get to sign the waiver, no one asked me, I would have never signed a waiver, I have a bright future ahead of me, I am going to a good home where the people are nice, no sir, I would have never waived squat!) and then I was taken to some hot springs.
It was all bass-ackwards! Traveling knitter mom takes me OUT INTO THE OPEN on a the ride of DEATH, where I should not have been permitted to see the light of day, but then leaves me in a bag, on a chair, while she frolics in the hot springs (and dives off a diving board being the only adult other than her husband, much to the amusement of all of the people watching but not the kids waiting in line for the old people to hurry the hell up and get off the diving board) when she could have been knitting on me. When do I get to come out and partake of the relaxing hot springs? When she is drying off and ready to leave. Grrrrr.
We took a drive to Aspen which was really pretty, though I thought it was kind of mean to HANG ME OUT OF AN OPEN WINDOW OVER A CLIFF just so she could get a picture. Yah, pretty, beautiful, now BRING ME BACK INTO THE CAR! And the drive along Independence Pass was great (had we not been worried about the flashing blinking neon gas light and how hard it would be to push the rent-a-wreck, also called the Rav-Whore, thirty or so miles, we could have really enjoyed the scenery, as well as the three red Ferraris that were hauling ass up and down the mountain at insane speeds). I was a little cold at the continental divide on Independence Pass since I still do not have a heel (like woman, could you please quit gawking at the scenery and start knitting? Driving is prime knitting time! What the hell is wrong with you?)
I know it didn't have anything to do with the real Twin Peaks and I sure as shit am not a camping kind of sock (I need my creature comforts like air conditioning, room service, and a phone book full of "masseurs"), but I liked checking out the Twin Peaks campground and looking for Laura Palmer's body in a stream!
I'm sad to say I did not find Laura and I did not see FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper either. I did, however, see a ball game at Coors Field (where Bobby Abreu waived at me, the pretty sock, not the girl with the HUUUUUGGGGEEEE tracts of land sitting in front of me). Despite Bobby's flirtations, I was disappointed with the game since my team lost.
I stayed in the same hotel that the Yankees stayed in and I was majorly ticked when they lost night after night but would still go out clubbing, partying, or to some other shit (I suspect it involved "masseurs")! We'd be coming back to the hotel at midnight and the players would be all dolled up and going out. I may have asked my knitter mom to drop me so that I could trip a player or two as they strutted out the door, but she managed to restrain herself. Mind you, I can be held out of the car window at high speeds or dangled over a cliff, but there is no way she is going to hurt cutey patooty Yankee players. Life is so unfair!
I got to experience more of that "fear for your life" thing when we went to Rocky Mountain National Park. I was dangled over water falls, trudged through snow while my knitter mom was wearing flip flops and almost wiped out and cut her foot (which was numb from the snow so she didn't feel it until later when she could have already contacted gangrene and dragged me into a desolate life inside a purse with my other half stranded in some hotel, while her husband and many doctors administered life saving drugs hoping to stop the poison from swimming into her brain - as if it was all that great of a brain to begin with), and held up at yet another continental divide.
I was also dangled in front of some hungry animals like a snack while crazy knitter mom said stupid ass stuff like, "Here Moosey Moosey Moose!" "Lookie here you cute little Deery Deer ... look at my pretty sock!" Hey dummy, your foot is bleeding and I bet the little Moosey whatever can smell it. Think Jaws. You're gonna be the snack, not me!
It is truly amazing that I have lasted this long. Especially since the most handling I get is for photographs and not actual knitting. Only one half of me has a heel flap. It is disgraceful! Our trip culminated with a jaunt to Boulder to see the University of Colorado, and a ride on Ralphie for me. Thankfully the people of Boulder are a peaceful lot and seemed to have forgotten that the Miami Hurricanes last beat them at football, otherwise they may have laid a mob smack down on me and my Hurricane hat toting knitting mom!
My time in Colorado ended with a double date with one of knitting mom's husband's friends. He took us to a place that had many dead animals on the walls which kind of freaked me out a bit. Once we had the food though I forgot about Bambi's glare. It was some really good food.
Unfortunately my date wouldn't put out. Bobby had gotten me all hot and bothered and my date, well, apparently he isn't into the hand knits. I think he may have been embarrassed to be seen with me. What Ever. Maybe I'll get lucky in San Francisco.