Tag Archives: colorado

some thoughts before the new year.

It’s been a while since we last talked. Some things have happened! For instance:

  • I traveled to five states in one week.
  • I became obsessed with this song.
  • I won Nerd Prom.
  • Baby Jesus was born, again!
  • I ate a really good veggie burger.
  • I pretended to care about sports, like, three times. (My dad was impressed that I could describe a first down. Really, Dad? Thanks for the confidence.)
  • I got to hang out in Colorado for ten days with my pup and fam and two friends from home who are actually still in Denver.
  • I severely jammed and/or broke my toe. I was sitting upstairs in my dad’s office, minding my own business, and feeling annoyed that the Christmas socks I was wearing were toe socks. I HATE toe socks. Like pants are to your legs, they’re like prisons for your toes. Obviously, I pulled all of my toes out of the toe prison parts, so there was some extra material just flappin’ around. Then the doorbell rang, so I rang down the carpeted stairs, my feet slipped out from under me, and my right foot rammed into the wall. Then my dog started barking his head off in my face, and I almost murdered him. I had to answer the door all like, “Oh, hi, sorry, just fell down the stairs. No, I’m totally not about to cry. Haha, okay, thanks for the spiced nuts, neighbor.” Then my toe started to really hurt. Then I went on a pub crawl that involved a lot of walking. Then my toe turned sort of black. Then purple. Now it’s just sort of bulbous and can’t bend, so I’m fine, but REALLY MALLORY? You couldn’t walk for a week because you fell down the stairs wearing slippery Christmas toe socks?! Because I have a history of showing you my injuries for no reason at all, here’s a picture of the toe at its purplest. You’re welcome:

So Happy New Year’s Eve Eve, dear readers, and get excited: 2011 is going to be THE BEST YEAR EVER! You know why? It’s 2011! Which means 11/11/11 is finally coming! Which means I can have my gala! You’re all invited, so I’ll keep you posted. I seriously cannot wait.

Now I’m off to paint the town sparkly with Kathleeny.

[Posted by Mallory]

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hiatus over, plus guest blogger intro!

Hello, long lost readers! I think that if I’m planning to be a serious blogger, I need to get better at letting you know when I’ll be on vacation and won’t be posting for a while, which was the case last week. I was in Denver for a few days, and then up in Vail with my extended family. There was lots of biking, cocktailing, eating, relaxing, and a little pong playing (we figured the best way to honor the three-year anniversary of my grandfather’s death was with a pong tournament, and thus the 1st Annual Toadie Memorial Pong Tournament was born. I think he’d have been proud). Basically, I got to look at views like this all week:

vail

You can understand why I didn’t want to be staring at a computer, eh?

I’m back now, though, and I’m ready to blog! It’s going to be a busy few weeks with at least three trips and one apartment move and one scary (23, ew) birthday, but I will be doing my best to keep up.

For today, I have a very important announcement: we are welcoming a new guest blogger, Miss Shannon Marie! (That’s not exactly her real name.) The best way to introduce Shannon is to say that she is my best friend from home, that we have caused a good amount of trouble together in various countries, and that we occasionally take pictures doing mature things like this:

shan intro

You may also remember Shannon from a Cry Face post a while back. Let’s give Shannon a hearty SWTCTW welcome, and look out for her very first post in the next day or so!

[Posted by Mallory]

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sometimes even “adults” get snow days!

If you’re in D.C. on this lovely Monday, happy snow day! At the very least, the federal government and my school got a snow delay, and I’ll take it. I woke up this morning around 7 a.m., looked outside, let out a “yippee!,” checked my email, and promptly fell back asleep. I’m impressed, actually…this is a legitimate snow storm. Normally when people are freaking out about snow here in the mid-Atlantic region, I get up on my high Colorado horse and am like “Pssh, you call this sprinkling a snowstorm? In Colorado we put on our swimsuits and call this summer!” (Which, of course, is a huge lie. Colorado is not the frigid tundra that some people think it is.)

Anyway, my morning classes and appointments are cancelled, so hooray! I’m quite happy to snuggle up in my apartment and watch entertaining YouTube videos like this one:

[Posted by Mallory]

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all hail the naked vail skier.

Picture your most humiliating nightmare.  Perhaps you are naked in front of a crowd.  Mine might involve looking like I was 13 again.  You’re thinking about it now.  Mortifying, is it not?  Well some poor dude in Vail lived a very imaginative nightmare.  Like the only funny scene from an unbearably unfunny Jim Carrey movie, he found himself dangling upside down from a ski lift san pants with his dangly parts totally exposed in the frigid cold.  Errr… here are the pictures.  You can’t make this shit up.

0106091vail1

HAHAHAHA

0106091vail4b

And finally, he is showed some mercy.

0106091vail31

Stifle your laughter, fools!  The man suffered from exposure!  Okay, you can giggle, because it is comedy of the absurd.

According to the press release, he was suspended for about seven minutes.  NOT seven minutes in heaven, I’m sure.  Pantsless man, I know nothing we, your fellow Americans, can ever do will erase the pain of this ordeal, but I propose that any time you go to a bar, your drinks are free.  But you know who I feel worst for?  His kid.  Sitting right next to him.  Hahaha. oh dear.  Therapy much?

[Posted by Kathleen]

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being bad feels pretty good, huh?

We all know that The Breakfast Club is a great movie. I mean that dialogue, those clothes, that touchy-feely message, and the romance? Cinematic genius. Last night I went up to Red Rocks to see the movie as part of their summertime film series, Film on the Rocks. Rather than sitting in a theater, you get to watch movies in a place that looks like this:

Amazing, right? The movie experience is enhanced to begin with based on the setting, and then on top of that, people are generally a lot more vocal during the movie. They cheer at everything, and throw in great comments like “Emiliooooooooooo!” or “What a bitch!” when Molly Ringwald is being annoying. All of this, plus The Breakfast Club’s sheer greatness, made me love the movie even more. And Judd Nelson? HOT. Who knew the Seattle grunge look, bike gloves, and a nose scar could be so attractive?

As Kathleen would say, rawr!

And look how fashion-forward Claire was:

High-waisted skirt? Check. Riding boots? Check. AND she eats sushi.

I’ve been sketching around IMDB to keep my Breakfast Club fix going, and I found this excellent tagline for the film: 

They were five total strangers, with nothing in common, meeting for the first time. A brain, a beauty, a jock, a rebel and a recluse. Before the day was over, they broke the rules. Bared their souls. And touched each other in a way they never dreamed possible.

Touched each other in a way they never dreamed possible? Shit, they must have shown the PG version last night.

In other news, I have decided that this is the best line in the whole movie, spoken by Emilio himself:

Yo wastoid, you’re not gonna blaze up in here.

I’m totally incorporating ‘wastoid’ into my daily vocabulary.

Okay let’s watch one quick clip and then we can all get back to work. According to my friend Leah, this is the best scene. I think I’d have to agree:

Bitchin’.

UPDATE: Neo, our soon-to-be Eastern Hemisphere Correspondent, just informed us that there is a terrible, terrible new JCPenney ad with all the key scenes from TBC, only with more racial diversity. Take a look:

For the record, Molly Ringwald would NEVER wear anything from JCPenney.

[Posted by Mallory]

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maybe he just wanted unlimited breadsticks.

Fueling the belief that Colorado is a place where people ride horses everywhere and still wear bolo ties, yesterday a “young adult black bear” broke into a Circuit City in Colorado Springs. Seriously. (That’s him above, caught on the security camera.)

According to the local ABC affiliate, the bear was lurking around a nearby Fazoli’s (looking for some chicken parm, we can only presume), and when the restaurant’s alarm went off he freaked out and ran over to Circuit City. He then shattered the sliding glass door, hung out for a while and compared prices on flat screen TVs, and ran out. He’s still on the loose. Perhaps he thinks he can get a better deal at Best Buy.

[Posted by Mallory]

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that john denver’s full of shit.

On Friday, totally spur-of-the-moment, Kelsey and I decided to go meet up with some friends in the mountains for the Fourth. I’ve never spent a Fourth of July in the mountains, but I figured it would be a pretty wonderful way to celebrate America’s birthday. (Among the mountains that inspired “America the Beautiful,” no less.) Picture this: two ridiculously happy girls wearing ridiculously large sunglasses, riding top-down in a convertible blasting Paul Simon, driving west toward the mountains. So cliche, and so amazing.

We went to watch the fireworks at this large field/sports complex in Fraser (which is near Winter Park, for those of you non-Coloradans), and got to enjoy a live band and delicious brats and Coors Lights before freezing our asses off for about two hours. (Your mom was right: bring a coat. The mountains are ever so slightly colder than the city, and sundresses do not keep you particularly warm.) The freezing-our-asses-off part was worth it, though, because the fireworks show was amazing. Somehow we picked the best spot on the lawn, and the fireworks ended up being directly over our heads. Fabulous. I love how fireworks amaze and awe people from three to 93. We were a bunch of 21- and 22-year-old boys and girls (by technical standards, adults), and we were ooh-ing and aah-ing and screaming “WOW!” like a group of toddlers who had no idea what those lights up in the sky were. I love that.

If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m completely and totally obsessed with the state of Colorado. I’m not particularly outdoorsy, but I love that my state is, and I love living in a great city that’s only two hours away from some of the most amazing mountains in the world. It doesn’t get much better than that. You know that Baz Luhrmann song about sunscreen? Where he says “Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft”? To that, I’d add: Live in Colorado once. Period. You may never want to leave.

My camera drowned in a Blue Moon shower last weekend, so I didn’t take any photos while I was up in Fraser, but the area basically looks like this:

CO Love.

And the drive up looks something like this:

Drive up

Pretty great, no?

[Posted by Mallory]

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over the shoulder boulder holder saves.

I always knew bras were good for something other than keeping the girls down. I personally have yet to discover what else, but Jessica Bruinsma’s bra saved her life. Bruinsma, who is from Colorado (hey, Mal!), had been stranded in the Bavarian Alps in southern Germany for three days before being rescued. According to the AP, “she attracted the attention of lumberjacks by attaching her sports bra to a cable used to move timber down the mountain”. Wowie.

She’s a smart lady. If you hang a bra from somewhere, men are going to find it. Sorry, I had to make some sort of joke. Just think of all the puns I could have made but didn’t.

But honestly, it’s good to hear she’s alright. Her story could have ended tragically, but she was resourceful. This just goes to show that bras really can change the world. Maybe somebody should pass this along to Jen Moss?

[Posted by Kathleen]

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boulder is a trippy place, man.

 

My apologies for my lack of postings this weekend. I’d like to say that I was just pretending this was a real job and taking the weekend off, but really, for the entirety of this weekend I was too drunk or too hungover or too asleep or my fingers were too covered in Smartfood to write anything. And this morning, I went through my usual routine of setting my alarm for a reasonable time, like 8:00, picking up my phone and bringing it into bed with me when the alarm went off, reading my emails in bed (because I’m so important that I have a Blackberry solely for the purpose of reading my emails in bed), tucking my phone under me, and falling back asleep for three more hours. Looks like all that rest left me with the energy to write run-on sentences that would make my AP English teacher weep.
 
Anyway. On Friday Kelsey and I took our out-of-town visitor, Sarah, to Boulder and met up with my friend Anne. We had dinner at this great little tavern which served my new reason to believe in God, goat cheese macaroni. I’d like to shake the hand of the person who invented that. I could bathe in the stuff. Once we were energized by the goat cheese, we ventured out onto Pearl Street Mall. Pearl Street is one of my favorite areas in Boulder. It’s a pedestrian mall that stretches for four blocks and is lined with trees, used bookstores, stores like Banana Republic and Volcom, bars, and street performers. The street performers are the best part. While we were at dinner, Anne (a CU grad) was telling us about this “Zip Code Guy” who performs on Pearl Street every so often. Apparently, she has always wanted to see him and never got the chance.
 
As it turned out, God smiled down on us on this particular evening, and we ran into Zip Code Guy, who was just beginning his performance. A crowd had formed around him, and he was asking for people from out of town to tell him their zip codes. Once he knew the zip code, he told the crowd exactly where that person was from. It was absolutely amazing. He could even get zip codes from random countries like Moldova. As he spoke, he was making a map of the US on the ground with a yellow chain.
 
After this warmup, he began to place people on the map according to their zip codes. I was placed on in 23173 (Richmond, Virginia, where I went to school), Kelsey was placed nearby in Williamsburg, and Sarah was placed up in Basking Ridge, New Jersey. (Anne made the mistake of staying in Colorado her whole life, so she didn’t have any obscure zip codes to throw out.) Zip Code Guy placed about 30 people on this map, from Maine to Wayne, Indiana, to Arizona. Once everyone was placed in their respective towns, he went through and recited every single person’s zip code, pausing to juggle five balls at once when he needed a little extra time to think. It was honestly one of the most impressive random talents I have ever seen. When we ran into Zip Code Guy after the show, he told us that it took him a few years and some driving around the country to finally memorize everything. Nutso.
 
It seemed that Zip Code Guy would have talked to us forever had we not ended the conversation, which made us feel bad for him (as in, he probably has nowhere else to go), and we were depressed until we stumbled upon some drummers. The drummers were a group of five or six guys just jamming out on a variety of bongos and other drums whose names I obviously don’t know. They also had these random girls who would come into the center of the circle and dance like maniacs every so often. These dancers were eventually joined by some brave crowd members: children; some drunk 30-something couples; a girl wearing a hat, a scarf, and mittens even though it was 70 degrees; and a man who could be your father (or maybe your weird single uncle), dancing to the beat even though he had his own Walkman on. Here, take a look:

 
This all was great fun. We spent an hour or two just wandering around and watching people before realizing that it was almost midnight and maybe we should go, you know, drink. (We also got a bit disillusioned by the whole street performer thing when we found a five-year-old girl whose parents had very obviously trained her to sing and play the guitar for money. We agreed with some random boy who muttered “That’s great parenting,” and then Anne told us that that very boy had gotten arrested his freshman year for beating his girlfriend. Sweet.) We met up with some friends at a bar a little farther down Pearl, and when we stepped in, it actually felt like a different world. “Sexy Can I” and “Please Don’t Stop the Music” were playing in the background, girls were wearing “labia skimmers,” or dresses that should have been shirts (a crime which I was accidentally guilty of on Saturday), and everything was all dark and trendy. The contrast between these people and the strung-out hippies selling lanyards that appeared to be made of their own dreadlocks was striking.
 
Like I said, Boulder’s a weird place. If you’ve never been, go. Tell Zip Code Guy I said hello.

 

[Posted by Mallory]

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