I like to pretend that I've got a rock-n-roll lifestyle going on out here on the East Coast. Flying to Boston for the day or England for the weekend, zipping around in my MINI, dating men nicknamed "Captain Underpants". In a certain light my life has the potential to look pretty glamorous. But actually it is quite dull, and Friday night is more likely to find me doing laundry than catching a red eye to Spain. But not this weekend. This weekend I pulled out my red paintbrush and went to town.
Friday night my friend Jen and I went to dinner (I had my first pupusa ever! Yum!) and then dancing. Now, I know Jen's mother reads this blog (Hi Mama Linda!) and my mom reads it on occasion too (Hi Mama DeAnna!), so I won't reveal incriminating facts like that Jen does an awesome stripper-hair-flip-move and that my lack of chestage did not diminish the excellence of my shimmies. Instead, let me just say there was a whole lot of booty shaking going on. And we did, indeed, shake our money makers. Of course you can't really blame us when they've got Bel Biv Devoe and Technotronic on the turntable. (everybody sing: "Pump up the Jam! Pump it up! While you feet are stompin'! And the jam is pumpin'!")
It was 80s night at the Clarendon Ballroom and the upstairs had an 80s cover band, Gonzo's Ghost, playing and the basement had a DJ. Normally, a live band should completely dominate a DJ ... but I'm sorry to report Gonzo's Ghost did not deliver. Let me just take a moment to share my opinion on cover or tribute bands. They suck. I'm completely opposed to them. I mean, can't these people come up with their own songs? Don't they feel like they've completely sold out by mimicking someone else? It seems pretty lame to me.
The one exception to this hard and fast rule is the 80s cover band, because they aren't a tribute to a single artist ... but are instead bringing all of your favorite 80 songs to life. One of my favorite concerts of all time was the St. Patrick's Day Legwarmers concert. This was the concert where every song was your favorite song! So I was excited for Gonzo's Ghost, expecting to have all of my favorite songs played. But no ... No GNR, No Madonna, NO MICHAEL JACKSON! No nothin. All we got was some Footloose and The Final Countdown. (And as Jen said, one good way to find the gay guys in the room is to see who squeals and jumps up and down when the first chords of The Final Countdown start.) Pretty sad, GG, pretty sad.
So Jen and I went to the basement, which started to fill up as more and more people gave up on the live band. We had a great time! I won't bore you with the details of the guys that hit on us, or the funny joke Dave Navarro's twin whispered in my ear, or the comings and goings of a guy we called "Tight Hawk" because of his hair cut (one part high and tight one part wide mohawk), nor will I tell you that when Tight Hawk got shut down by a lady we'd cry out "Tight Hawk Down! Tight Hawk Down!" Yes, it was a good time, a good time.
At1AM we decided to head home. Jen's most awesome housemate Wes had made us pizza and tried to get me to eat a pint of super sinful Pomegranate Chip ice cream. He's a little bit evil. (Just a warning to you, if you decide to go get this Hagen Daaz ice cream get a couple because one pint WILL NOT be enough. It's ridiculously good.)
Saturday, I decided that Paris Hilton is right and no one should get up before 10am. Especially if they've been out until 3 AM the night before. So I spent the day lazing around, before going shopping for shoes. And Hello! I found the cutest boots!
Then I met Camie for a Rooftop party, which was actually quite fun. I was surprised it was so fun because there were a couple of things going against it: 1) It was a Mormon party ... which can have a high lame-factor. 2) It was on the top of a 25 story building in October, so it was quite cold. And windy. And as you know, wind frustrates the Eternal Plan. (Wind ruins your hair, which makes it so you are not hot, so you will never meet any hot guys, and therefore never get married, and never have kids, and there you go, Eternal Plan ruined. Thanks a lot wind.) But I still had a good time, and actually met one nice normal man. I didn't think there were any left, so that was a faith restoring experience. Of course I'll never see him again, but at least I know there's at least one out there ... somewhere.
Again, I didn't get home until 1:30. So Sunday was spent lounging around after church watching my recorded TV programs. Which after all of the socializing was the perfect bookend to my rock-n-roll weekend. See, I'm not such a couch potato after all!