WARNING: VACATION PHOTOS AHEAD.
Most photos were taken by Mr. Jaunty, some by our friend Chris, a few by me. As the Good Book says, “Thou shalt click to enlarge.”
Last weekend, Mr. Jaunty and I voyaged to Estes (sounds like “Festus,” not “testes”) Park, Colorado for a dear friend’s wedding at the majestic Stanley Hotel:
It’s absolutely beautiful and surprisingly quirky— the Stanley is very proud of its (tenuous?) link to the Shining, and hosts popular “Ghost Tours” along with an in-house psychic. Besides, they keep an old car in their lobby:
While the hotel now uses standard keycards for its guest rooms, all their old keys can be seen hanging behind the front desk, swinging from hooks and gleaming prettily:
One stairway is lined with mirrors, perfect for checking your hair and wondering how you got from second-hand everything to a five-star hotel:
Here’s a peek at our li’l room. Not seen are the jacuzzi tub, spacious closet, and any resident ghosts. It’s a good thing I didn’t spot the room service menu, or I might have stayed in bed with a book all weekend… and gone broke. The bed was ridiculously comfy:
I spent much of Saturday with one of my favorite bloggers, Katie of Interrobangs Anonymous, who is everything I dreamed she’d be and more.
When I first saw Katie driving through the Stanley’s parking lot, absentmindedly brushing her bangs off her forehead with an elegant hand, it honestly felt like spotting a celebrity. I was instantly transported to the late 90’s, when my cousin fell for Hanson and gushed about how Ike Hanson pulled up his socks during an interview, “just like a normal person.” World, Katie is a real person.
Obligatory outfit photo. Note the coordinating jeans, gray tops, and curly hair— we both had berets, too. I should have worn my glasses!
I know, I know; all the gorgeous scenery in the mountains of Colorado, and we took pictures in a messy hotel room. Hey, time flies when you’re pouring out your heart to a previously-unseen friend.
Katie already wrote a lovely, detailed post about our meet-up, but was too modest to add that she gave me a pair of self-made, green and blue beaded earrings. She chose the colors because I wear so much teal. Good call; like JT, deep greens and blues are the colors I choose. You can almost see them here:
Days later, I still feel strange seeing the pictures of us together. I mean, that chick I see in the mirror and the Interrobang are TOUCHING, which means they’re both REAL. SO WEIRD.
This Colorado outhouse sign could spark a discussion about gender identities:
I DID have to sneak into a men’s room at the Stanley once— it made me think about co-ed bathrooms, which took me back to reading “A Return to Modesty.” Should have discussed that with Katie.
While Katie and I were off gallivanting, more helpful guests were prepping for the reception:
I didn’t take pictures of the actual wedding ceremony, which was both tender and brief; I didn’t want to be rude, and wasn’t tall enough to get a good shot anyway. But here’s a “behind the scenes” shot of the bride and groom, a hilarious pair of opera singers who couldn’t seem any happier together:
Blurry but cheerful Jaunties at the reception. That reception was one swingin’ party; drinking, dancing, a performance by Janice Hall (who won a Bistro Award last year), and of course dinner and cake. I discovered that I can drink whiskey sours without flinching, which will be handy if I’m ever forced to amble into a bar and order something tougher than hot chocolate.
I had planned to devote an hour or two before the wedding to intense grooming; shaving my prickly legs, plucking the blonde hairs on my big toes, buffing my nails, exfoliating and lotion-slathering from tip to toe… but talking to Katie was more fun, so I ended up doing a quick clothing change and one-over face/hair touch-up instead. My legs and feet were mostly under a long tablecloth, anyway, and a stylist liked my inevitably tousled hair.
Dining with another classical singer friend, Chris; I thought that Chris was dating a guy, so I was a happy, chatty, perhaps even flirtatious dinner companion. Once I learned he was both straight and single, I was mortified by my behavior. What does THAT mean? I’m myself with gay men, but not straight ones? I have more fun with people who don’t find me attractive? Worth pondering.
Before we left on Sunday morning, some local elk strutted up to bid us farewell. You’d think they owned the place.
If you ever want elk to turn and stare at you, try noisily rolling your luggage across a bumpy parking lot. Worked every time. Such sweet faces!
Our flight home from Denver was cancelled due to a plane’s bad brakes, so we spent 9.5 hours sitting in the Denver airport, trying to sleep in uncomfortable chairs. All those magazines I thrifted, Katie? Completely necessary.
Home again, home again, jiggity jog.