Still Monkeying Around in Utah

Yes, People! It is me, your favorite Traveling Monkey. I tried to send you more love (and another cry for rescue) from the Great State of Utah but the free Wifi and internet access went wonky so you are going to have to pretend that I am not back home, safe and sound.

Pretend I am in Utah, the state where you have to become a member of a club to get a drink because there are no "public" bars! And let me tell you, when you are vacationing with a woman who takes you on chair lifts to ziplines and then on the ziplines themselves, to freestyle ski jumping swimming pools, or plonks you down on a curling thingamajig for a picture and then forgets you are in there and walks away until she hears some random child ask his parents why there is "string on the granite," or loads you into a bobsled ...





... well, you need a bar. Pronto. And, sure, there may be a joke about a sock walking into a bar and asking for a drink, but that joke, it didn't happen in Utah!

Crazy traveling knitter mom, she tried to butter me up with some food at the Sundance Resort Deli (which was quite fabulous), and she tried to butter me up some more by working on me while lounging on the Sundance patio (also fabulous, that whole being creative in a mecca of creativity thing) but then she ruined it with yet another height defying chair lift and then a long ass drive to Moab, Utah. A long ass drive where, I might add, she did not knit on me at all because she was looking at scenery or some other bogus thing!



Moab has Arches National Park. A really pretty place.



But it's not so pretty when the dumbass your with decides to take a hike for "prime picture taking opportunities." Her pictures of her and her husband on the rock came out fine, but when it's my turn, she leaves my knitted sock bit at the top with my ball bit next to it not thinking about the fact that hello, you left me on an incline with a piece of my anatomy being a ball, a round ball which rolls.



She is holding my ball part (and just so you know, constantly talking about "my ball part" makes me feel kind of funny) in her hand and my sock part is way up there, the speck on the rock in the picture. It is kind of hard to make out because she was LAUGHING AT ME while she was taking the picture! Yes, she laughed as I rolled down a VERY HIGH rock. She found it hysterical that I almost careened to my death. Bitch!