Heaven Sent???

Hmmmm...smoking a cigar? Maybe not so much.
But here I am - in all my angelic glory - with Pancho Villa. Also known as my husband David.


Our Halloween didn't quite go as planned. It was our sister in law's birthday, and she, Dave's brother, and several friends were coming up to our city to go out on the town. The short version is: there were many miscommunications that happened throughout the evening. The long version goes as follows:
We thought we were meeting one place, only to find out we were in fact meeting at another. Side note: do you know how hard it is to get directions from someone talking on a cell phone IN THE MIDDLE OF A DANCE CLUB ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT? Quite difficult my friends, quite difficult. So finally David and I find the club we are supposed to be at. We were told by the group we were meeting up with to go to the VIP line ('cauz that's how we roll...) and say the name "CeCe Lopez". As to who exactly CeCe Lopez was, I have no idea, but that's the name we were to drop. We wait in line. We then realize we have limited cash, and after some deliberation we both agreed that the bouncer at the door didn't look like he took a debit card. So we stepped out of line to go find a bank. Downtown Portland, at 10:30pm on a Friday night, tends to be interesting enough. But add in the fact that it's Halloween, and hellllllo circus. We were wandering around looking for a bank, when I noticed a kind looking man -not in costume- standing next to me at the cross walk. "Excuse me", I say "but would you happen to know where the nearest ATM might be?" to which he stares at me wide-eyed and says, in very broken English, "Is my first time here." Oh. What he must have thought of our city...
One gas station ATM and a $3.00 bank processing fee later, we were back in our VIP line, feeling very James Bondish with our secret name to drop. We get up to the front, only to find out the guest list is closed, they don't care who CeCe Lopez is, and if we still want to go through this entrance, it will be $25 per person. Thank you very much but I like $50 and I don't feel like giving it to someone simply so I can enter through one particular door over another. I mean... yes, I admit it did feel uber-cool to be standing in the VIP line, but I am not too pretty to be in the regular line. Which, come to find out, wraps around the entire building...
We stand in that line for about 20 minutes. It does not move. Not even 2 steps forward. At this point I am beginning to lose heart for the evening, but try and remain positive.
Then the rain starts.
If you notice in the pictures above, I am wearing all white. Standing out in the rain was simply not an option for me. So we decided to ditch this line too, and went and found a tiny little hole-in-the-wall bar with NO line to duck into and try and get a hold of the crew we were supposed to be meeting up with. When we walk into this bar, everyone stares at us, and a feeling creeps over me that we do not belong here. There are about 8-9 men inside, all just staring at us with quizzical looks on their faces. I immediately chalk this up to the fact that we are dressed in costume, order a drink, and sit down. About a minute later, two trucker-like men start making out. Oh. It's a gay bar. How were we to know?!? We drink our drinks at a speed that is fast enough to get out of there quickly, but not so fast as to appear rude, and then exit said gay bar. We both stand outside for a minute and take in the building front...how would we have known that?? A little dive bar, with no actual name on the building front...who would have thought.
Unable to reach anyone by phone, and reviewing the nights events thus far, we decide to cut our losses and head back to our house. I traded in my wings for some sweat pants, and we spent the rest of the evening at home together. So I guess all in all, with an ending like that...I can't really complain =-).