I Survived a Sexless Sundance
I received an excited but confused call from my boyfriend, Toby, telling me that this little film he was in made by a college friend with zero money managed to get accepted into Sundance.
“You're kidding, right?” I said. He wasn't. The house was taken care of, all it needed was us inside it.
Sundance twenty-ten, here we come!
Los Angeles Chargers vs. Kansas City Chiefs
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Mid-January, packing for Sundance:
Out of habit, optimism and a little nympho-ness, we packed our usual lube/condom/vibrator arsenal. We selectively ignored the fact that this 10-day trip would likely be sex-free.
We got to Park City at about 2 a.m. exhausted after a 15-hour drive through a major snow storm preceded by a flat tire, and followed by a swerve on fresh snow nearly hitting a lamp post.
We got to the house, stepped over a few blowup mattresses and collapsed in what would be our sleeping quarters for the week: the fold-out couch in the living room.
After four days of sleeping in the middle of grand-central living room, I refused to accept that this trip would be completely penis free, and after the blowup mattress dudes fell asleep, Toby and I pretended we were alone.
Then the light in the hallway flipped on and the loud giggly drunk girls who slept in the small bedroom attached to the living room came stumbling in.
Next attempt occurred in the bathroom, while Toby primped post shower and I needed to grab my makeup, a towel and his penis.
This was our chance! Threw off the towel, bent over the sink and waited for Toby to get into position. Clearly overwhelmed by the carnal concept, Toby leaned on the wall-mounted towel rack for leverage and – crash, crack, CRASH!
Metal fell to the floor, chunks tumbled in the tub, more bounced off the door.
“Everything OK in there?” the girlies called.
Day 10 in Park City found all the vendors packing up to go home and giving away their products to anyone who showed up with an open bag. One such vendor had a collection of men's jackets to get rid of. YES!
I ran back to the house to announce to everyone inside how amazing these jackets were – gold-plated with $100 in each pocket AND an automatic bacon-maker button. GO. NOW.
Everyone ran out.
And as we removed the final layer of clothing from our bodies – it was fucking cold there – everyone came back high-fiving about their free fancy winter coats. How did they do that so fast??
SIDENOTE: We didn't go completely penis free in the 10 days. I had one special encounter with one. Actually, we all did. One evening, our 65-year-old neighbor took a relaxing bath with the lights on, windows open and shades up. We crowded around the window to take a peek and see what a man of this age looks like naked. Why? Because we hate ourselves.
Sundance ended, we left and headed north to visit an aunt who lived in the depths of Wyoming. We arrived and she suggested we hike up the snowy hill to check out the neighbor's house, which was “magnificent.” And empty.
It took an hour, and yes it indeed was magnificent. We saw antlers, skins, things made out of antlers and skins…and then saw the most magnificent part of the house. The porch swing.
Not a human, deer, bear or bald eagle in sight. Overalls off and penis hard in seconds.
Toby swung while I sat up and down. Up and down.
The majestic Wyoming mountains covered in blankets of flawless white snow made it feel we were fucking inside a postcard. Wearing earmuffs.
It was awesome.
Toby came in the snow.
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