LAME

We tried to get into this restaurant all summer.  We got so desperate for some Rabbit Hole that when we couldn't get a reservation we figured we'd just show up and get a spot at the bar and eat there, which worked for us once before.  But nope.  So when my husband called and actually got a real reservation at a real table it seemed like a major victory.  Then, when I found out the reservation was at 5:30pm, I was only minorly disappointed.

Going out gives me an excuse to dress up and wear heels, which I never do, because, come on, they're  like really uncomfortable.  But I figure for a few hours, consisting mostly of sitting down, I can handle it.  Maybe.  So I wore these gorgeous shoes I have only worn once before in Morocco when I went out on a ladies night and choked on my ostrich steak and had to hit the woman next to me, whom I didn't know well, to give me the Heimlich maneuver.  It was so embarrassing, which is probably why I never wore those gorgeous shoes again, until now.

Now when I'm on Instagram, so I can stalk my children there, I've been using my camera phone to take photos.  Which is totally new for me, because I always take them with my real camera because my phone is a total piece of crap.  Before we left the house,  I Instagramed a gorgeous photo of my gorgeous shoes to memorialize the occasion.  (My phone takes incredible photos of my feet and random objects, I have discovered.)

When we arrived at the restaurant, we took the treacherous stairway down to its entrance under the city sidewalk (years ago, it used to be the city morgue).  Somehow I made it safely to the table on my 4" heels, then tried to take a picture of my husband and I at the table, you know to memorialize the occasion of me not falling to my death on the stairs.  But, between the dim lights in the restaurant and my dimwitted phone, the photos were black.

When we were finished eating our delicious early bird special meal, and headed outside where it was still light, I took a selfie of my husband and I by the car. Because again, I'm still not dead.  By this point,  I've had some wine and the picture looks really blurry.  So, was it the wine, or was it my lame-ass phone?

(I tried to copy the photo from IG, but I can't figure out how to do that because I'm so technologically illiterate.  In other words, LAME.  However, you can view my public, for now anyway, Instagram account to see my gorgeous shoes and evidence of how lame my phone is here.)

Then we walked around downtown looking for some action.  But the only action at 7:00pm in Colorado Springs was walking in those killer heels.  Which is probably the MOST challenging thing I've ever done in my life and my feet are killing me.  So we got in the car to look for this jazz club we went to with friends once.  But we couldn't find it, and by this point we didn't even care.  Because my feet really just wanted to be in our hot tub anyway.  So that's what we did.   And we were home by 7:30pm when everyone else was starting their evening, we were ending it.

Because we're THAT lame!

And then we took a bathroom selfie with a proper camera because we're so lame we don't have many decent photos of us together.  Not that this one isn't lame too.