Monday, March 10, 2008

Girls' Ski Trip- I Could've Danced All Night





Last time, we made the front page of the paper. There we are, five out of the eight of us, plus some weird guy, emblazoned on the cover of the Summit Daily News. We were captured, frozen in time, dancing to an 80’s band in the town plaza of Breckenridge, our faces still burning pink from the day on the slopes. I was clutching a Coca-cola cup in my hand, a cup that did not contain any Coca-cola, but was instead full of warm beer. Tonya was doing air guitar. Betsy's eyes were lost somewhere behind her huge grin.

The band was called Latex Limousine, and they went all out, dressing in animal print spandex and teased hair-band wigs. We requested song after song, and they complied, so we stayed there dancing and singing until long after the last amp had been loaded into their beat up van. We felt like mini-celebrities, blazing into town, partying like rock stars, (minus the drugs and groupies, of course) and then getting hounded by the paparazzi, or in this case a part-time, freelance photographer/ski bum living the dream in a mountain town and actually getting paid for it. But that was last time.


This time, we are all two years older. We have all, for the most part, settled into relationships, married or moved in with our significant others, and come to terms with the fact that our thirties are here, or at least for the younger ones not far off. We are grownups now. Some of the girls from last year didn’t even make it. Pregnant? of course. Overtime? Yes. Relocation? Yeah, that too. This year is definitely different. We won’t make the paper this year. We’ll be a little more laid back, a little less intoxicated, and a little more comfortable just hanging out in the condo relaxing in front of the fire, sipping glasses of wine, and talking about our futures. We will compare notes about our men back at home and the things that all men do that make all women crazy. We will tell hilarious stories and laugh until our abdomens cry for mercy, and we will cook great meals and take time to really enjoy the company of the other smart, funny women with whom it seems we never get to spend enough time. Then we will get dressed in our comfortable jeans and sensible turtlenecks and we will go do what every intelligent, successful, mature woman comes to Breckenridge, Colorado to do. We will go fo
rth, and we will dance our asses off. Like nobody’s watching.

Friday night, the scene was at the Gold Pan. It was said that there would be a great DJ, although I’m not sure how whoever imparted this knowledge found all of this out. I never know where the scene is anymore.


We ate dinner and had a couple of cocktails at the condo, and then we wandered out to catch the bus downtown. We were riding in ski-town style, now, and it was The Gold Pan or bust. We made loud jokes on the bus, hoping to entertain some of the other riders. One guy smiled. A lady rolled her eyes. The bus driver never looked up from the road.

Upon our arrival, the Gold Pan was indeed quite the scene, and as foretold, the DJ was awesome. We were nine strong in number, (having left two back at the condo, one with a cold and the other dead-tired) and we wandered in like we owned the place. Lena stole a table from some guys. Jen went to buy a round of beers only to have all nine of them purchased for her by a man on a barstool who apparently liked her style. We peeled off our puffy vests and hit the
dance floor, and I was dripping sweat before the first song was over.

The boys were on the prowl. We ignored them and kept dancing in our girls-only circle. We had the luxury of being confident enough not to need the male attention, and the good sense in being slightly old enough to really appreciate it. We resorted back to our junior high alter-egos. We smiled back at them, but we didn’t let them break into our club. As Dane Cook said, “tonight, we just want to DANCE”


An hour later, the DJ finally answered my request. I jumped up and down to the beat, smiling, screaming “Josie’s on a vacation far-a-way…!!” My friends laughed at me. Life just doesn’t get any better than this. Great music, a couple of beers, boys who think you’re pretty, and a bunch of hilarious friends on a vacation faraway. Well, eighty miles or so away.


Outside the bar, this guy was chatting up another couple of girls from our group. He wasn’t being a slimeball, just chatting. Nice guy. He was there for his bachelor weeken
d, even sweetly producing a cell phone shot of his wife-to be.

I stared at him. I used a line. Only it wasn’t a line, it was really true. “I know you from somewhere,” I said.

He had been busy trying to get one of my friends to dance with his brother, but he looked up at me with a knowing smile.
“Do you have kids?” he asked, still smiling.

I was already shaking my head violently before he finished the last word of his question, but still, I couldn’t stop staring at him. I KNEW him.
This feeling of being sure I know someone happens to me quite a bit. When I get this feeling, it takes over my brain and defies all logic. I am immediately compelled to stare at, harass, and quiz the person I’m sure I know until he or she helps me figure it out or files a restraining order, whichever comes first. Usually, when I see someone and keep insisting that I know him, it turns out to be the person I yelled at for going slow in the left lane, or the guy from the dog park whom I firmly informed of the law regarding how he needed to properly dispose of his Labrador’s droppings. It never seems to be anyone good when I know I know them, but I still can’t let it go. This guy was helping me through it, though.

“Do you have nieces and nephews?”


I nodded. “Yes, one of each, but I don’t know what that would….” I just wasn’t getting it.


He had clearly been through this spiel before, and it was time for his dramatic revea
l. “I played Joe on Blue’s Clues!” he said with a flourish.

I laughed and covered my mouth and hopped around a little bit, “I love Blue’s Clues!” I shrieked, involuntarily letting on that I was a freak who did not watch the show with my little niece and nephew, but instead by myself in the throes of Saturday morning hangovers during a solid portion of my twenties. “I have a dog named Blue! I loved that show! This is so awesome!”

At this point, Joe from Blue’s Clues began to realize that I was way too excited about a show with a target market between the ages of two and five. I wanted to ask him about a million things, but he started to look uncomfortable. It was the celebrity sighting of the weekend, and I was ruining it by being just a tad too eager.

I tried to chill out, but I had to tell all my friends. “Psst, guys... that guy Donovan over there? He played Joe on Blue’s Clues!” A couple of the girls had the attitude of “Oh, cool, nice” A few had no idea what Blue’s Clues even was, and the rest of the girls were totally unimpressed. No one had the same reaction I did, and so I sighed and then let it go. Back to the dance floor where people understand me.


We brought the night to a close by screeching the lyrics to “Don’t Stop Believi
n’” in the middle of the dancefloor. We were a chorus of sweaty, Journey-loving, throwbacks, and we didn’t even care. Even Joe from Blue’s Clues got into it, singing loudly while one of my friends finally danced with his brother.

We left the bar with the intent to walk the mile or so back to our condo. We all hated this idea, but it is almost impossible to get a cab in downtown Breckenridge the way you can in the city. The buses had stopped running at this late hour, and our thighs were burning from the hours of modern dance that had just preceded. We had just grudgingly begun our trek when a beat-up 1980’s Chevy Blazer pulled up. It was disguised cleverly as a cab with the simple addition of a yellow TAXI sign stuck to the top. Legs and arms everywhere, we all managed to fit inside with the cheerful driver who
did not seem to mind the illegality of the situation one bit He drove us a mile right to the front door of our condo and asked us for twelve dollars in return. Cash came from everywhere. We were so thankful for the miracle Taxi-Blazer that I think he ended up netting around thirty bucks. Definitely his best fare of the night.

We wandered in to the condo together, some us with our arms linked, still singing.


“Hold on to that Fee-ee-lin!”

First photo courtesy of The Summit Daily News. Second photo courtesy of Amazon.com.

16 comments:

katieo said...

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
Joe from Blues Clues??? Are you kidding me? (Although I'm much more of a "Steve" kind of girl..that is still very cool. I would've screamed on the spot.)

Actually Donovan has never met me and doesn't know me but I claim to know him. He went to my high school and graduated a few years after me. I was only there for my senior there though and I'm pretty sure he came right after I left. (Norah Jones too...I didn't ever meet her either...but I pretend like we have this bond...you know...like if I ever ran into her we'd have something to talk about...)

Sounds like you had an awesome time though, love the picture from last time.

Maggie said...

Your weekend sounds like SO MUCH fun! I'm surprised no one recognized you from the paparazzi photo. :)

How is the mug working out? Would you mind sending me a photo for my blog?

Lyndsey said...

Great blog! You had me cracking up with the recap of our lovely night. I think I have almost recovered enough to do it again.

Cara said...

How crazy is that KatieO? And I would DEFINITELY play the High school card with Norah Jones when you meet her. I mean, you guys could end up being best friends! We did have a great time!

Ok, Maggie. I will take a picture of myself with my new favorite mug and send it to you. I also still need to send you your pink Komen ring...I have barely been able to think straight with the week I am having, but I will get this done ASAP!

Lynds!! I am so glad you flew out from Nebraska for Girls' Ski Trip. It would not have been the same without you

Carolyn said...

OH MY GOD. I'm so jealous. I just came to your blog via 15 Minute Lunch, only to find a post about Joe from Blue's Clues. How exciting! My three year old (like katieo) is more of a Steve kind of kid, but me... I'm a Joe girl all the way.

Funny post. Thanks for sharing.

ThickChick said...

Haha, that is too funny!!! I'm kind of a DoodleBops fan, myself, but I might recognize old Joe! ;)

Alright, as if I didn't already want to move to Colorado to become your new BFF, this post solidified it.

I would have requested 'sister Christian oh the time has come...'

Crabby McSlacker said...

Wow, sounds like an awesome night.

It's funny, it's hard to plan evenings like that; they just seem to happen or they don't. Sometimes you get a great group of people together and it all stays very polite and pleasant but it's just another outing. But then other times this weird hilarious energy sneaks in and it becomes a night to remember.

Thanks for sharing it with us! I almost feel like I was there, but without having a hangover the next morning as I most likely would have if I'd been along for real.

katieo said...

thickchick. Doodlebops? Are you serious?

Cara said...

Carolyn- I am so glad you came by. 15 Minute Lunch is so great. Thanks so much. I am all about Joe, too. I always thought Steve was too skinny :)

ThickChick- you are totally invited next year!!!

Thanks, Crabby! You are so right. Nights like that only happen every so often, and never when you think they are going to. It also helps that I have really hilarious friends. We all kind of feed off each other. I am lucky.

Carolyn said...

Glad I stopped by too. And if I ever start a 15 Minute Lunch fan club blog (which I'm contemplating!!) I'll be sure to include you too.

Maggie said...

Yay, I can't wait to see you with your mug. :) It's so much fun for me; I'm not sure if the "models" enjoy it quite as much!

Lucas said...

That sounds SO fun! Can I come next year? ;)

Lucas said...

Hey Cara. I've tagged you on my blog. See today's post and play along if you like. If you hate these things, I won't care if you don't play. Either way. I'm easy like Sunday Morning!

That girl from Shallotte said...

Don't stop believin', Cara!

You most definitely have still got it, and I love it. And I miss it -- let me live vicariously through you!

I love how we sing the same songs. I was in a conference room of a printing factory in Boston on Tuesday, proofreading financials with my headphones on. I didn't realize how loud it was until I glanced up and saw three co-workers mouthing, "I don't wanna lose your love tonight."

Great vacation story. I'd beg you to invite me next time, but I don't know how to ski and can't stay out late enough for clubs anymore. So gimme more, talented one!

Merry said...

Are we still on vacation?
Or have we "lost that bloggin' feeling"?

Either is fine, but what I don't want to think is that you're up to your eardrums in work, work and more work. Stop and smell the... well, the snow, I guess. (At least, it's snowing on my daffodils e'en as I type.)

Hope you're doing okay!

katieo said...

hey chick. WHERE ARE YOU? Throw us a line...anything!