Procrastination in Santa Fe


We woke up after a full night’s sleep at 8 a.m. with the anticipation to leave early. We really haven’t been schedule so far. In fact, if we say we are going to leave early, that normally means we will be behind the “said” time by at least three hours.

Check out wasn’t until noon, so we figured breakfast would subdue us for the road. Le Zodiac cafe was in the hotel lobby and seemed appropriate as far as labels go. I’m an astrological freak, so it made sense.

Nick had quiche and I had scrambled eggs and yogurt. I was amped up after the potent coffee, so we presumed one last stroll through the plaza wouldn’t hurt.

We met a couple from California who was walking their puggle, which is half beagle half pug–apparently very popular on the west coast. It only made me want a dog even more.

I decided at one point in Santa Fe that I wanted a dog. I had named my car Louis, and wanted to find a female dog and name her Ana. That way, no matter where I travel–home will always be with me. I’m in need of some personal companionship evidently.

As we were talking to the couple, they made a notion about the monument in the plaza that we had overlooked during our three-day stay. The inscription on the tall erection originally included the word “savage” when describing the Indians. However, sometime during the turn of the century, people became very offended by such vulgar description, so the term was blocked out and then an apology was added to the monument. Talk about politically correct. It just goes to show just how peaceful the people in this area really are.

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In fact, I noticed that in Oklahoma. I thought it made sense after visiting the memorial why people in the midwest craved peace after such a travesty, but it seems that the more west we travel, the more peaceful people seem. There is a distinct southern hospitality and warmth, but it is different from a strive for peace.

Anyways, Nick and I were trying to make our way back to the Inn for checkout, when he saw a hat that caught his eye. There was something about the city that had already beckoned us back to it’s energy, so souvenirs just seemed to fit the situation. He had been checking them out all along, but low and behold an Indian Jones classic adventure hat summoned his being.

We walked out after the purchase and I saw a booth I had longed to rummage through the whole weekend.

I had never found my ring from the native and was quite determined to find another one to suit my fancy. There was a man with four tables of gems. We stood there for 15 minutes before I found the “one”. It was opal with a hint of fire: a light purple on one side and an almost burgundy on the other, with a slight hint of fire stint in the middle. They guy sized my finger and then made the ring right in front of me. Um…appropriate or what?

Rings represent the cycle of life to me. I’ve heard it said in marriage ceremonies plenty of times. Well. This was me signifying my cycle to myself. A gem from the Earth to a gem on the Earth.

Now if I only I could figure out what to do with the hair on my legs and the length of my hair? I have the urge to chop off my hair. It motivates me to stand taller instead of remaining attached to a girlish figure that may never exist again.

As for the hair on my legs, well, I don’t think I’m quite that hippie. I want to feel sexy again. And I don’t with man legs. Haha.

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