U2 'Lights My Way'... to 30

I was sitting on the couch last night, comfortably wedged between my old flannel duvet cover and two big puffy pillows. I'd just washed the itchy chlorine and sweat off my body and slipped into a tank and boxers for the night. I was roasting a bright yellow pepper in the oven and my post-workout cocktail of soy milk and coconut water was on ice. My evening plan was blog a little, TV a little, pack a little, blog a little, pack a little, talk to my MaineMan then sleep by 8:30 p.m.

Until this:

"Yo! One of T's friends didn't show up. Can you get your a** here! They are on at 8:45. Get to Penn, take any train to Secaucus, then follow signs to Meadowlands train. Very easy. $30."

O.M.G.

I'd exchanged a few e-mails with FoxyLady earlier in the day. The subject line of the e-mail I sent to her and LarchmontLass, my two missing in action roommates, was "Is anyone going to be home this evening?" I leave for Miami tonight to ring in my new 30th year and I was hoping I'd get to catch up with them before I left. FoxyLady informed me she was going to the U2 concert with a friend of hers from work and I almost lost it.

It has been my dream since I was in the seventh grade to see U2 live. For some reason, I was never in the right place at the right time with the right bank account. I spent my adolescent years in France blasting U2's "Joshua Tree" and "Achtung Baby" on my walkman. I prayed at night that I'd get to dance with Michael Cotten at our middle school dances to "With or Without You" or "One" (along with every other girl in my class). "With or Without You" went from being a school dance staple to the anthem for any love I found. I sing but have severe karoak-aphobia, but I swore if I was ever forced into it I'd belt "Pride" as a sort of tribute to Bono. "Bad" is my favorite heartwrencher of all time. If I had a theme song for my life, it would undoubtedly be "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking for." And who doesn't get a boost of energy or happiness after listening to "Beautiful Day"?

I jumped up from my cushy seat and read and reread the text. I paced back and forth in the living room and a few screams and curses may have been heard by the neighbors across the street. I ran into my bedroom and started throwing s*** into a luggage so it'd appear I'd actually been productive before I bolted away to hear my boys. I sent out a few alarming "What would you do?" texts and AlyCat put it best, "It's your freaking 30th birthday this weekend. You've never seen U2. They are your favorite band. They are getting old. I don't care that you have to be at work at 5:30a.m. Get your a** here." She plays a mean G.I. Jane.


I walked out of my apartment at 7:22. I was on the 8:04 train from Penn Station to Secaucus sipping on a brown-bagged 24-ounce of Bud Light and I was sitting down to the first Edge chord by 9:04. The night was flawless (until the nightmare commute home), through the last song and my last jump in the air. I was like a freaking pogo stick the entire concert. I couldn't stop waving my hands in the air, singing the lyrics at the top of my lungs and jumping to every beat of Mullen's drums.

In solidarity with Iranians and their fight for democracy, the stage turned green (every song seemed to have a different color scheme) and Bono rocked "Sunday Bloody Sunday." I'm getting the chills just thinking about it. If you asked me 18 years ago, as I was blaring it in the back of the bus with Crissy Jacobs splitting our headphones, where I'd be the week of my 30th, I couldn't have dreamed I'd be in New York listening to it live.


I promise I will get back to the food -- how the Apple got its start -- at some point, but a lot has been going on in my life beyond food that's worth sharing, and this was one of them. What a tremendous way to start off my 30th birthday weekend.

When a friend died earlier this year it reminded me that every day counts. "Don't put off tomorrow what you can do today" is just one of the carpe diem quotes I try to live by. Going to see a U2 concert was the first thing I ever had on my "bucket list" before I even knew what a "bucket list" was. Had I stayed in PJs and gotten eight hours of sleep last night I would be sitting here, wide awake and diligent at work, wondering what songs I missed. Instead I'm sitting here at work, slightly groggy, on three hours of sleep, glowing from the goosebumps, dancing, singing at the top of my lungs in the rain and high-fiving strangers when "Mysterious Ways" came on.

I received a message from a new friend on Facebook this morning when she saw I went to the show:

"A friend offered me a ticket at the last minute - your situation exactly - except that I wimped out and didn't go."

I've learned a lot of life lessons on the road to 30. And wimping out is not one of them.

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Aspen II

As promised, I wanted to share a few more of my Aspen pictures with you. I'm slowly starting to come down off my Colorado cloud, but every time a friend posts an album of the weekend to Facebook I'm taken right back up.

Above is a shot of me having a staring contest with Sunkist's adorable lab Trooper. Really it was me trying to take a self-portrait of us, but she wouldn't take her eyes off of me. Quite the cute result, I'd say. Below you'll find her brother Henry resting his little chin on the porch railing gazing off into the Basalt hillside. I've spent the past few weekends with friends and their dogs and I know you shalt not covet your neighbor's pets, but I can't help it. Many women of or around my age start to get the baby bug. Forget the baby bug. Babies still make me squirm with unease. I do, however, have a serious case of the puppy bug. My days of being a young, hot dog-owner are slowly fading. I think I may have to do something about this sooner rather than later.

I begged Sunkist to take NavyHawaii and me to the Riverside Grill in Basalt before I headed to Aspen. It's my favorite bar in the area. It reminds me of the Big Sur River Inn as you sit on a deck overlooking (practically in) the rushing Fryingpan River below. We only grabbed a few beers but it was enough for me to leave happy and glowing I'd paid a visit to my spot.

From one favorite spot to the next. We had a lot of scheduled activities during the wedding weekend, including a 9-11 tribute run the morning after the bachelor/bachelorette parties and a pre-wedding swim practice, but luckily our afternoons were free. And for one of these afternoons, hitting Little Annies was a must. I dragged a few lucky souls with me to experience the goodness of Little Annies and they were not disappointed. Not only is the inside charming and cozy -- rife with warm woods and red and white-checkered tablecloths-- but they serve the best comfort food I've ever tasted. Below is DCDude's curry chicken salad sandwich.

"So I take it the bread is just for show and I'm not supposed to actually pick it up and eat it like a sandwich."

"I think that sounds about right."

"Are you taking a photo of this for your blog?"


The rehearsal dinner was at the Hotel Jerome - the 100th time I'd been there and second time for a rehearsal dinner. The Jerome has a great bar I used to frequent when I lived in the Aspen area. It was always popular for its anti-sports-bar-sports-bar vibe and delicious burgers.

Warrior's family just killed it Friday night. Totally killed it. The party was Western-themed and everyone was encouraged to dress up. Below you'll see my outfit warming up and ready to get its groove on. The best part about this costume was my mom actually bought me the bright red shirt a long time ago (and Dad shipped it to Aspen from home in Conn.), thinking I'd wear it on a normal non-Western-themed day. Hmm...

"Where did you get that shirt?!"

"Umm, besides it literally being a shirt off Anne Hathaway's back in 'Brokeback Mountain,' my mom bought it for me years ago. Thought I could use it since I wear white button-up shirts..."

"Shut up. Ahahaahaaaa!"

At least now I don't have to stress about my Halloween costume.

We were in the back banquet room of the Jerome. It was truly incredible what they did with the place. They fully transformed it into an old saloon straight off the set of a John Wayne movie. I later learned they wanted to have an ice skating rink in the middle of the cocktail room (where we jumped around taking pictures before the sit-down dinner), but Warrior's parents thought that was a tad excessive.

Instead we had a pianist and two lovely ladies who would bust out into show tunes (I died when I heard them singing "Oklahoma!") in between walking around with trays of whiskey shots and jumping up on the bar to dance. What a show. I had hoped to get on the bar with them at some point in the night, but after drinking my weight in whiskey I thought it best not to barhop under the influence.


Below is the corner where the beloved popcorn wagon used to reside. RIP popcorn wagon. It was the home of many a wonderful drunk night's end in Aspen (and the sight of where my married friends CalGal and Spirit met). I was saddened and surprised to learn it was no longer functioning as a late night snack place.

I ventured up Ajax one afternoon. I was trying to find the Ute Trail and with the help of signs pointing in every which way, I got miserably lost (and a rather cumbersome bloody nose in the middle of the hike sans tissues). I was wiping my nose with leaves like a freaking pilgrim. I probably should have just gone over to Smuggler.


Below is the beautiful mountaintop altar where Warrior wed his woman T. We were incredibly lucky with the weather. It didn't rain a drop during the ceremony, but it started pouring during the reception. We were stuck for a while once the party ended because they wouldn't operate the gondola in the rain and lightning. I wouldn't have minded getting stranded on the mountain for the night. I met someone and I have an idea he would have kept me warm and dry in the rain. It also would have made for a gosh darn fun sleepover and some good stories (and maybe a few missed flights -- oh wait that happened anyway) the next morning.

Wishing I was still stuck on that mountain...

God I love weddings.

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Rocky Mountain High

I flew out to Denver Tuesday night and I'm enjoying getting in a little pre-wedding quality time with old friends in Colorado.

So far I've eaten my way through Denver... (me dominating a slider at the White Chocolate Grill)


Basalt... (the incredible spicy artichoke dip at Cuvee)


rafted from Shoshone to South Canyon...


made a wish upon a rainbow...


and I'm about to venture to my girl Sunkist's Zumba class for an hour of calorie-fighting dancing. I hope I make it out of there alive. The fact that I'll have a former Marine and a Navy SEAL with me makes me feel a little better. I can't do worse than them, right?

Tonight's bachelor/bachelorette parties should be a hoot. We start off the night celebrating separately before the debauchery descends together on Eric's Cigar Bar. Cannot. Wait.

Stay tuned for more updates from Aspen. I hope you're all having a great week.

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This Week. FAIL.

Just when this week (and by week I mean 11 days in a row of work without a break) couldn't get any better, this happens.


And the best part? The food snatcher not only finished my first box of meatless chicken patties, but they had the gall to open the second. You need money? Food stamps? I'll buy you lunch. Just don't eat my food.

Hold. Me. Back.

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