Recalculating.

Before I start talking about my recent trip to Denver, I need to tell you about the level of intelligence that was in that car. 6 college degrees, two more in process. 2 paralegals. 2 former federal employees. 2 graduates of Albuquerque Academy. Like, gave new meaning to the term "smart car".

Now, watch this and know that it was the single, most hysterical moment of our lives.




I think I've turned going to Denver into some sort of hobby. Really, I'm a bit confused. Because, truth be told, I don't like Denver much at all. But, I sure do seem to go there a lot. And I have fun every time I go. Does that mean I like Denver?

No.

We, being Kyle, Tom, Marky, Alexis and myself went to D-Town to see Flogging Molly and the Aggrolites at the Fillmore, which might be my favorite venue in the world (there's a lot of them I have yet to see). We left last Monday, stayed the night in Colorado Springs, went to the show on Tuesday and drove back on New Years Eve.


We stayed with Tom's uncle in Springs. And since his uncle's a Maloof AND the head golf coach at the Air Force Academy, his neighborhood looked like this. Or, the sort of neighborhood crazy people snatch up little blonde girls, as I so poetically deemed it. Tom's uncle had a giant and fantastic chocolate lab named Maverick. Best dog in dog world. Most dogs think they're people. Some dogs even think they're cats. But Maverick knew he was a dog. He liked it and he was good at it.


We had some time to kill in Denver before the show, so we went to Casa Bonita. Trust me, it's just as awesome and horrible as you can imagine.



Cliff Divers.


This is Tom, sort of excited about gordita. And Alexis, not excited about beef taco. And Mark, really excited about tequila.


And this is the Jonderpool Holiday Photo, 2008.

After Bonita, we decided we needed beer. And we needed to take Tom on his family spirit quest (walkabout!) to the Coors Brewery in Golden. After driving allllll the way out there, we find out they're closed on Tuesdays. Now, Tom will never know who he truly is.


So, we went to the Denver Art Museum instead.

This giant sculpture had a plaque with it, describing what was and was not okay to do to the broom and dust pan, that said things like: Taking your picture with the broom is okay. Chatting with the broom about cleaning products is okay. Blaming the broom for the degradation of contemporary morals is okay. Caressing the broom is not okay. No, really.

About the time we finished looking at art (and completely ignoring the Native American sections, because really, can Denver teach me anything about Native American art that I can't learn at home? No. The answer is no.) it was time to head for the Fillmore. This is about the time I start to get super paranoid. Because this is about the time in my last trip to see Flogging Molly at the Fillmore that everything went horribly wrong. Between myself and Marky, I think we analyzed every, single thing that could possibly go wrong. I was checking out hotels in the area. I even asked Tom how good the insurance policy on his car was.

Luckily, after a few plastic cups of High Life on an empty stomach, I was pretty content with things. The show was almost exactly what I expected. For the most part, no one understood Rev. Peyton's Big Damn Band or the Aggrolites, but our little group danced away, regardless. See, Denver's got a lot of bro's. Like, BRO'S. BRAHS, even. And brahs think Flogging Molly's the shit. So, I went in expecting that no one would get the openers. And that everyone would be insane for F-Molly. And they were. If any band in the world deserves a crazy crowd, it's Flogging Molly. They put on one hell of a show. But, even though it goes against the fundamental basics of punk rock, there are certain, universal rules of etiquette at punk rock shows. And Rule #1 is, when someone falls down you pick them up. And when this rule isn't followed, things get dangerous pretty quick. So, after having about 7 white hats pile on top of me, and no one help me up, I decided that the bar was a great place to watch the show. Maybe I'm old. But, I still had fun.

We stayed the night with Bill, the former bass player of Half-Stache and one of my favorite people in the world. But that also meant we had to be up and on the road by 7:30. We barely made it. We stopped for gas at the Denver Tech Center and searched down breakfast. I think we were all dreading the thoughts of McDonalds or some sort of fast food, thanks to Casa Bonita's fine cuisine from the previous day. But, we located a blessed Einsteins.


Really?

Ride home was uneventful. I rode shotgun or drove for most of it, which made me iPod master, a role I very much enjoy. We got home in enough time for me to nap before heading out for New Years Eve.

But, the moral of the blog is, CURSE BROKEN, BITCHES. The worst thing that happened on the trip was sleep deprivation. So, do I like Denver now? Now that the curse is off?

No.

Love is just God on a good day.

This past weekend was, hopefully, the last trip I take to Denver for a good, long while. I don't mind that drive too terribly much, but dang, let's go somewhere else. At least each trip I've taken up there has been a completely unique experience, from bar hopping in Trinidad to heat stroke at Mile High and now, rope burn at Red Rocks. Only two things have remained constant: 1) Marky's gone with me every, single time; 2) I've gotten sick everytime I've come back. My sinuses are driving me INSANE. I now know how capable I really am of discomfort.

And speaking of discomfort, we fit 5 people in a Dodge Neon for this trip; me, Joel, Casey, Marky and Sam. NO REALLY. But, by doing that, it meant we only spent $20 each on gas for the trip. That is freaking incredible.

We hit the road at about 7 on Thursday night, stopping in Raton so that Marky could get some dramamine. We made it into Denver close to 3am and went straight to sleep at Sarah's apartment. We got up the next morning and ate Silver Mine Subs and went to the venue.

Red Rocks is pretty. We really had absolutely no idea what to expect crowd-wise, so we got there at about 1.


We were the first people in line.

And in fact, the only people in line for almost 2 hours. People didn't start getting there till 3. But, we kept ourselves occupied.


Sambro brought his skateboard and his long board, so we puttered around the parking lot.


Classic Cat and Marky. I really must apologize for the image quality from here on out. My camera is sinking fast. And while I wait to move, I can't justify spending $1,000 on a D-80. Why, financial responsibility, WHY?

When we got really bored, this happened:



Which I put on youtube under the title ULTIMATE BACKYARD BRAWL: BENNETT VS. SYLAR. I can't wait for people to comment.

The show itself had a great lineup: NoFX, Bouncing Souls, Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Street Dogs. But, the venue wasn't the best place for punk rock. All the seats are built into the ground, so having an open pit was next to impossible. People did still do it; have ridiculous pit action close to the stage, but it was seriously the most dangerous activity I had ever seen. Between that and the "barrier" made by metal poles and nylon rope, our crew got pretty banged up. But, I don't think anyone of us minded that much. The Street Dogs were okay. Every time I see them, all I can think about is how they're not the Murphys. And how if I told any one of their fans that the Street Dogs were pop punk (which they are, in fact), I would get punched in the face. The Bouncing Souls played a great set, the Bosstones were fun dance time, and NoFX hardley screwed up! Overall, it ended up being so, so, so worth it.

The next day, we slept in, got up and ate at Illegal Pete's which is like Chipotle but better. Then we went to the Cherry Creek mall so Marky could spend $225 on new sunglasses and so we could spy on the bacon slide.


I call it: Breakfast at Play.

It became clear that even though we had talked about coming home on Saturday, that wasn't going to happen. We all wanted an extra vacation day. So, we stayed and IMAXed the Dark Knight. How jealous are all of you? It was fun, the IMAX experience was pretty worth it and I think I appreciated it a lot more the second time around. Then we went to Dave N Busters where me and Sarah had the most intense game of air hockey on record.

Sunday morning, we got up and started our drive home.


Three dudes in a back seat, 2 guys, and a girl in a pizza place.

By far, the most eventful stop on the way home was Fountain Colorado. Because of construction, we ended up detouring around the famous fountain and Joel, who swore we wouldn't stop the whole way home, was incessant that we go see the fountain.



We finally got to the gas station we had originally intended in going to, where Joel bought the best shirt known to man:


and the best hat known to man:


We stopped at infamous Russell's Truck Stop outside of infamous Springer to take pictures of infamous dog pooping signs, which they have for sale inside so people would stop stealing them.




Casey, having a bit of gum trouble.

We made it home in time for me to pass out by 10. Nothing weak about that weekend, for sure. It's always brutal to come back to work after having the best vacation. Sinus drainage doesn't help either. WHINE.

In other news, I still can't find a job and I'll be spending most of my week in Edgewood watching the DNC with my momma. It's tradition.

All the good girls are home.

You see that? That flooded out sky? That means camera's quickly dying. And the picture quality from this weekend is disappointing to me. I need D-80 more than ever.

But you also see all those people? I hung out with them this weekend, all 80,000 of them.

The past few days has been an exercise in waiting. Waiting in line for the Dark Knight. Waiting for Lucero. Waiting for Tom Petty. Waiting in traffic. Marky and I estimated we waited about 18 hours for about 5 hours of entertainment. Not to say that waiting isn't fun.


We got an early (?) start on Saturday morning, leaving Albuquerque at about one in the morning. We were initially planning on getting into Raton, sleeping a few hours, then getting up to drive the rest of the way to Denver. However, Marky and Tom both slept through Lucero and since they were so well rested, we drove straight to Denver, getting to Maria's brothers apartment at about 9 in the morning. We slept a few hours, showered and drove to Commerce City for the festival.

Getting in was pretty easy, as we qualified for car pool parking and we got there early in the day, about 2:00.


Bright-eyed and bushy tailed!

We were excited to just be there, out of Albuquerque, in a new city, Tom Petty on the horizon. But, a funny thing happened in that Denver cooked. The temperature was at least 100 on Saturday. And 100 degree weather while surrounded by 80,000 is freaking hot. I had initially intended in checking out all the stages, all the tents, just sort of taking it all in. But, after I threw up as a result of heat exhaustion, I spent most of the day huddled under one of several tents in the park.


Cat-like tomato.

I think it was a combination of the heat and the tiredness, but all four of us were useless for the bulk of the day. In fact, we napped.



While Steve Winwood jammed.

After nap time and $10 burrito, I felt a little more like myself and less like tomato. We made our way to the main stage for Tom Petty, dancing like hippies through the crowd, it makes them more open to moving for you if you're dancing. We ended up about 9 rows of people back and in our hour and a half wait, we made friends with all the people standing around us. I was surprised by how many out of towners there were.

Tom Petty was, of course, remarkable. I didn't take any pictures as I've started to feel that it creates a certain amount of distance between me and the performer I'm seeing. That's one of the best parts of live music, the intimacy. I'm all for snapping a photo or two for the sake of the memory, but watching a show behind an LCD screen is a whole different game. There was this sea of digital cameras and cell phones when Petty took the stage. Don't I sound pretentious.

We played a pretty regular set, comparable to what he's been playing his whole tour. Standouts for me were the always sexy Honeybee, the Free Falling singalong (the crowd, including myself were not meant to hit some of those notes), acoustic Learning to Fly, and Marky and me screaming the lyrics to American Girl for his closing. I had a fantastic time. The crowd was fantastic and very respectful of open space, I had lots of room to bounce around. If I had to get sick and do it all over again, I would in a heartbeat.

Maria started feeling queasy during Petty's set, so she got out of the crowd about 3/4ths of the way through. She stayed with her brother, while the rest of us stayed with my buddy Sarah who I stayed with when I went to Denver last June. She was just the greatest hostess. We each got our own air mattress and we all slept so, so, so great.


We got a much later start the next day, which I think we all needed. We picked Maria up at about 2 and by then the traffic into the festival had backed up for miles. We had a good hour or so in the car to trash talk Dave Matthews and write "Stay Down" on my knuckles.


No really, dang shame it washed off before work today...


We didn't get into the festival gates until 4, so we all ran straight to see Flogging Molly, who had just started. Both me and Maria hung back, Marky and Tom got towards the front. I was worried about overdoing it. But they played a great set, including Devil's Dance Floor and If I Ever Leave This World Alive.


Their crowd. LOOK HOW DISCONNECTED I AM.

Sunday's music also included Pinback, the Roots, John Mayer and Dave Matthews. So, I don't like Dave Matthews. I think that's okay. He's one of those musicians you're either into or you're not. And I am not. But, I think 90% of my disdain for Dave is because of his fans.

And here's the funny part of going to a summer outdoor festival that Dave Matthews is playing at. THE ENTIRE CROWD ARE DAVE MATTHEWS FANS. You know who I'm talking about, the shirtless white-hatted bros with $8 Bud Light in hand, shirt tucked into the back of their swim trunks, corresponding lady friends (frat mattresses) on arm. And then there's the OTHER Dave fans, the hippies/yuppies, with Teva sandals and broom skirt.

So, after wading through them for two days, nothing gave us more pleasure than to leave before Dave played. On our way out, we saw this dude passed out in the parking lot, curled around a car tire.


Maria: "He's gonna miss Dave!"

We then spent 20 minutes trying to get to the Church's Chicken that appeared to be across the street from the park and hit the road. We got push pops at a gas station, as per Cat and Marky tradition. I tried to take a picture of us with our push pops, but that turned into a giant fail.

Fail #1.


Fail #2.


And my personal favorite, Fail #3.


We got home at about 5:30 yesterday morning and poor Maria had work at 8:30. The rest of us slackers took Monday off.

So far this year, I have seen the following live:

1. Ben Folds
2. Hot Water Music
3. Strung Out
4. Saves the Day
5. Rancid
6. Lucero
7. Tom Petty
8. Flogging Molly
Among others.

That is AWESOME.

And still to come:

1. NOFX/Bouncing Souls
2. Counting Crows
3. Ben Folds, again. I want to go to a symphony date, he's doing a few back east in the fall.

That's just as AWESOME.

Riding for a fall.

Lady pose.
It seems that whenever I go out of town for short stints, my sinuses get confused and decide to freak out. So, I took a sick day for the first time in the history of my new job yesterday, hence why I blog not. I spent most of yesterday feeling fantastically confused, my reaction time was next to nothing. I ended up sleeping in my boyfriend's empty apartment because our AC is broken. Kenneth came over and made a large pot of broccoli cheddar soup. My heart was content, that's for sure. I'm feeling a bit better today, but please, no one ask me to multiply or name state capitals for the rest of the day. Geeks might be out tonight.

But anyway, Colorado!

Marky and I went Springs this weekend to see the Mad Caddies on Saturday night. We stayed Friday night in Raton with Stancie, Saturday night in Springs at a motel, and drove back on Sunday.

Before I get started on thsi trip, it's important that you know me and Marky's history with road trips to Colorado. The last time we went up there was in 2005 and there's a reason we haven't been back since. But we decided, hey, it's June, it might not snow. And we did okay.

Our first stop was in Las Vegas for dinner Friday night at the Wendys. The guy who ordered before us kept telling the cook, whom he was clearly friends with, to make his food "with love". So, it was actually, "You better make that with love, homie. Make it with love" since we were in Las Vegas. I told Marky, "When I hear someone use the term 'made with love' in a fast food establishment, I think made with semen." Our trip became known as Made With Love Tour '08.


Stancie and friends took us out to Trinidad bars on Friday night, something that neither of us had experienced. And let's just say that small town bar hopping is a little bit different than going downtown. The first place Stancie took us was called JuJo's.

(bear with me. There is a lot of humorous dialogue this trip that I really must re-create.)
Cat: "Jew Joe's? Like as in the religion Jews?
Stancie: "No, JAY YOU. JU."
Marky: "They could call it Kike Mike's."
I COULD NOT stop laughing about that for the rest of the trip.


And in honor of Emily Stone, this is me trying to draw a swastika on a beer bottle (A THREE DOLLAR FAT TIRE, MIND YOU!). Stancie is amused.

(It's important to note that booze up there is like, retardedly cheap. Shots of Crown are $4 and the people I was with were complaining about it. I was like, "Really. Can it.")

Then we went to the Trinidad Brewing Company which was a little more my scene, mostly because it was a microbrew in an old building. But even more so because I ran into an old friend. I'd been joking with Marky the whole way up about how I was going to run into someone from Raton or Trinidad that I really didn't want to see and it was gonna be awkward as hell. And I ran into Ashley Hargrove, who I know via Matt Floyd, and someone whose company I very much enjoy.

After there, we went to the Circle, or the Trinidad Lounge as it's actually called. There was booty shaking music and probably the best bathrooms in the southwest.


The women's bathroom had this magnificent wall of toilet paper in each stall. And I remember thinking to myself, "There is absolutely nothing in the world that could top this. I wonder if the men's bathroom has the same thing."

So I ask Marky, "Is there a giant wall of toilet paper in the men's bathroom?"
Marky: "Nope, something even better."
Cat: "What could possibly be better?"
Marky: "Depictions of sex positions tiled on the walls above urinals."
Cat: "SHUT UP."





So, that was a good night.


The next morning, we headed out to Springs, with our two trip mascots, Tooshy and Pig. Marky won Pig in a claw machine at Denny's and you can guess where Tooshy came from.


We took Kyle's car, by the way. Which we named Choppah, just so we could say the phrase "Get in the choppah nooow!" as much as possible.

We drove right through Colorado Springs and went straight for Urban Outfitters in south Denver, where Marky bought tight pants and other things commonly found at Urban Outfitters. I bought almighty HOLGA and a really cheap 35mm fish eye camera. I decided it was okay to spend camera money on other cameras. Fantastically excited to see what images I can get with them.


We checked into our motel and then went to downtown Colorado Springs and ate at Phantom Canyon and had some fine microbrews. Their hefeweizen was shockingly banana and clearly a local summer favorite. And then, on to the Caddies!


A few years ago, these guys dominated my iPod for a really long time. I almost forgot about them for a bit and man, am I ever mad at myself for it. Their horn section is killer, their singer has such a diverse voice and their drummer is maybe the most energetic preformer I've seen in a long, LONG time. The venue was also super small, maybe 150 capacity, and it was easily sold out. AND they had $4 Newcastle bottles. So fun!


No. No, we don't.

Sunday's drive home was pretty uneventful. We got back to Albuquerque around 6 and I had enough time to bring my boyfriend McAlisters at his fireworks stand in Las Lunas.

Curse broken. Eat it, llamas.