What a weekend. I must have hit every single Valentine's freakfest in town. Actually, that's far from true, but a girl can only hit so many parties in one night. (Usually that's about three for me, but who's counting?)
The three-minute recap:
Friday night. DeVotchKa's
Valentine Ball at the Boulder Theater. Missed Hot IQs, the openers. Bummer. Caught Slow Rosa, was mildly interested. Should be called Schizophrenic Rosa, because the two singers (one male, one female) have entirely different styles that don't match up. She kicks his ass, hands down, every song. DeVotchKa rocked, and their new sexy Latin sound from their latest album is very Calexico
. (That's a good thing.) Totally reinforced my feelings of favorite-local-band adoration for DeVotchKa. As usual, I remembered around 2 a.m. that Boulder is way too far of a drive home.
Year of the Rooster Chinese New Year party at a friend's house. I loved the pork dumplings, and the lucky bamboo everywhere was tres zen. Next, the Hush
one-year anniversary party. Pretty people in every corner, very predictable. Holly K. looked hot as usual, (note: backless dresses are very in right now. Must work on shoulders at the gym.) and Andi Smith worked the room as the hostess with the mostess. Owner "MO" Olsen looked like a proud papa, as did Rise's
Michael Payne with wife Michelle looking very happy, and very pregnant. Later, hit the hi-dive for the Valentine's 80s Prom Night. Wow. We're talking big taffeta dresses, big hair, bigger earrings, men in eyeliner, Cyndi Lauper, Prince, Flock of Seagulls. Seriously deranged, drunken dance party. It would have been more fun if my lame friends weren't too cool for school and hid in the corner all night. Their loss - I danced like a banshee on the stage with the other drunken idiots, reveling in the retro bliss.
, I went for what should have been a romantic, quality-time drive and hike up in Red Rocks park
, dog and hubby in tow. Except that all that cocktailing followed by too much coffee led to massive dehydration and a dizzy spell. At the very bottom of the trail, of course. Walking back up Red Rocks to the top lot on a hangover is hell. Absolute hell.
(after mass quantities of Gatorade and water yesterday afternoon) I'm feeling much better. And tonight, we'll do our annual aren't-we-disgustingly-cute tradition of dinner for Valentine's at Potager, where we had our first real date.
Happy Valentine's Day.