This was one of our favorite of the ugly dresses. Yes, you are reading that right- $5484 for this rolled in the swamp look.

The days in the red Toyota Tundra driving in 117 degree heat are now long behind me and I am back squarely in the real world. But this weekend I again traveled to Colorado for a different purpose- to help Lauren find a wedding dress. At some point it hit me, between now and August of next year- I will be road tripping with the Rosses a lot in my official role as Maid of Honor. Most of the driving will involve time on I-25 between Denver and Fort Collins, but it is road tripping nonetheless. So, I think this little blog can live on- in a very different iteration. (I may have to eventually change the rustic background to something more wedding-y.)

To be honest, I was a little nervous about this trip. My mom and sister are two of the strongest women I know, with very strong wills and opinions to match. Shopping for a wedding dress can be a magical experience (my favorite being when I went with Alissa during a power outage and she tried on dresses by candlelight) but it can also be pretty stressful. The dresses are crazy expensive (and the trend seems to be the uglier the more expensive) and even girls who do not dream of their wedding day their whole lives are led to believe this is the most important fashion decision of their life. What could possibly go wrong?

The tension was broken considerably by my mom’s disastrous attempts to parallel park near the first store. After a few hilarious moments (and finally squeezing the car into a ten foot spot), we set out for Anna Be, a lovely bridal boutique in Denver’s treny Highlands neighborhood where our great family friend Erin (and fan of the blog!) found her dress. The boutique has floor to ceiling windows, beam ceilings, exposed brick and a very welcoming, low pressure atmosphere. We were offered water and champagne. My mom has spent months watching “Say Yes to the Dress” so she was fully prepared for the experience.

We pulled the first five and got to work. There wasn’t a cheesy stage area like they have at Kleinfelds. We had our own little corner next to a big window so we could actually see what the dress looked like in sunlight, which will be important with Lauren’s lakeside wedding. We loved Jenny- our low key, super helpful salesperson.

From dress one it was very clear that Lauren is meant to wear wedding dresses. She has hips (which us other Ross women were not blessed with) and basically looked amazing in every one. With each new dress it was instantly our favorite and we quickly had a series of front runners. Lauren had gone into the process feeling very strongly about wanting a certain kind of dress (see: opinions, above). Then she tried on a dress that quickly became known as the “goddamn cupcake dress.” The GCD is everything she didn’t want- it is far more traditional and more bridal than she had planned. But here is the thing, she looked stunning in the dress. Even though it is more traditional, she can move in it. It is light and airy. (I am trying not to be too specific because she does want the dress to be a surprise, although I bet by now she has cracked and shown Keith the picture.)

So what was wrong with the dress, you ask? Well, my mom pulled it off the shelf. While Lauren loved it, she wasn’t sure she wanted to concede this win to my mom (see: strong willed, above).While it was all in jest, all Ross women have a tough time admitting when someone else might be right. Jenny found us very amusing, she had never had a bride who was irked about finding a dress she loved.

We left the store with two solid choices- the GCD and a gorgeous Nicole Miller. Later that afternoon we went to another store in Lakewood, not far from my grandmother’s house. We pulled into a strip mall that is something of a bridal superstore. Not only did they carry wedding dresses, but bridesmaid dresses, mother of the bride outfits, and honeymoon packages. It couldn’t have been more different than Anna Be. The interior featured a green and purple faux Tuscan decor, with an enormous stage for brides to model their dresses. Lauren managed to find a couple non-hideous dresses in a sea of hideous. She found a dress from the same designer of the GCD that also looked amazing. We decided it wasn’t as fun as the GCD and that helped solidify Lauren’s choice.

She isn’t ordering her dress until December so it all could change. But for now, Lauren will be walking down the aisle in a gorgeous dress that looks absolutely nothing like a cupcake. Speaking of cupcakes, I hope I am invited back for cake tasting.

Sorry for the delay on this (I know you were all waiting with bated breath for the next entry). My blackberry dislikes Vegas almost as much as I do and refused to post while I was there. So here is my best recreation of the post I wrote this morning at the Las Vegas airport that I inadvertently deleted. 

We left Moab bright and early to tackle the nearly seven hour drive to Las Vegas. We drove through every possible terrain, making brief stops in the lovely town of Beaver (home of Butch Cassidy) and St. George. In Saint George we selected Chili’s from the bevy of chain restaurant options for lunch. We then crossed into Arizona (who knew?!) and finally into Nevada. It was a long day in the car and I was relieved to see the Vegas skyline.

I should admit I am not a Vegas person. Gambling generally makes me sad (not the high rollers but the little old ladies putting their Social Security checks into rigged slot machines) and I am a spoiled Angeleno where smokers are usually as segregated from the general populace by 100 feet or so. Despite my negative outlook, I decided to give Vegas another chance.

We arrived at Bally’s, whose motto is “Stay Classic.” This is a brilliant marketing ploy for a hotel that hasn’t updated its rooms since the 60s. Our room looked like a set piece from Mad Men, before Betty brought in the designer with the giant ottoman. My favorite part was the bottle opener in the bathroom, adjacent to the Kleenex holder. Very classy.

We walked around the hotel and nearby haunts for a little while, but the 106 degree weather didn’t make for a leisurely stroll. Finally it was time to get ready for my birthday dinner at Bouchon. I may not be a Vegas person, but I am a Bouchon person. I have been building this meal up for a few weeks so I was worried that it might not live up to my hype. It did and then some.

Our meal was delicious- the minute I tasted the warm pistachios and bread I was hooked. I nearly licked the remnants of the goat cheese from my salad off the plate. My gnocchi was perfectly toasted and tender. For dessert, we had profiteroles and a creme caramel. Our waiter was incredible- so knowledgeable and attentive without being annoying. We bonded over our love of Jaleo.  When I told him I loved the tea I had at the end of the meal, he brought me three tea bags to take home.

Bouchon was absolutely the high point of Vegas. After the meal, we decided to walk off our considerable decadence and stroll from the Venetian to Bally’s. I don’t know the bible well enough to make the analogy, but I am pretty sure we walked through Sodom and Gomorrah. A few highlights on that walk:

• People in plush costumes posing for pictures that made the characters on Hollywood Blvd look positively classy.
• Men (and women) handing out fliers for hookers every two feet. This was particularly awkward for my dad as he walked with his wife and daughter.
• Tourists walking super slow and stopping in the middle of the sidewalk every time they saw a half naked lady (which was quite often).

We finally made it back to the room where I suddenly was thrilled to be in a badly decorated 60s throwback.

I have decided if I ever go back to Vegas, I will need someone to bankroll the trip so I can stay in one of the luxury hotels, eat in all the best restaurants, and never, ever walk on the Strip. Any takers?

Heaven.

My hilarious and insightful Vegas post seems to have been sacrificed to the technology gods. I will try to recreate it later today but I can’t make any promises that it will live up to the one I wrote at the Vegas airport earlier today.

We made it! View from our less than luxurious room at Bally’s.

Goodbye Red Cliffs Lodge! Vegas, here we come! (After 7 more hours in the car!)

I don’t really know quite how to begin the tale of the Canonlands by Night Cruise. When we arrived for our Dutch oven cowboy dinner, we were greeted by Preston, our affable host. Preston is the kind of guy whose primary form of humor is jokes made at his wife’s expense. As you can imagine, this mildly sexist banter is about my favorite form of humor there is. As dinner wore on (and every person working there expressed dismay that my mom and I were only going to have one heaping plate of food each), it became clear that the Preston show was going to continue for the two hour boat cruise as well. Hooray! At that moment, I decided to keep a tally of all the offensive things he would say about women on the boat. Little did I know that this was the wrong tally to be keeping. More on that later. In the hands of the right story teller, this boat cruise/light show could have been pretty cool. You ride up the Colorado for about an hour as the sun sets, and then turn around and head back in the pitch black. Lights are shone onto the cliff sides to highlight the shadows and rock formations as a narration tells the history of the land and the early settlers. With Morgan Freeman telling of man’s struggle to tame this uncharted land over a John Williams’ score- I would have totally been invested. Sadly, we got something slightly different. I have already shared a few of the red flags before we got aboard but it was when they played the theme song to the Love Boat in a non-ironic way that I knew we were in trouble. Preston’s stellar jokes and recountings of Moab’s greatest moments went on for a while. Clearly not a fan of silence, which would have been welcomed in such a peaceful setting, he droned on until it was time to start the show. The show, as it turned out, was a pick up truck with flood lights in the bed that were aimed at cliffs as it drove slowly along the road to keep pace with our boat. It flashers glowed orange the whole time, creating a distracting visual as you tried to take in the other lights. More distracting than the truck, however, was the recorded narration that played along with the lights. Part sermon, part bad historical reenactment, part bizarre music choices, it was all we could do to stifle laughter at times. My tally system quickly shifted (although Preston had made another four sexist remarks on the ride up the river). Here is the tally for the evening: * 9 mentions of God and/or the Creator *Countless mentions of Indians killing or tormenting the white settlers (including an extra special reenactment done by child “actors” that made no sense and left you feeling for the Indians) AND *0 mentions of white settlers killing or tormenting the Native Americans. There were a few times where they just turned off all the lights and let you take in the gigantic night sky filled with stars. These moments could have been pretty spectacular if it weren’t for the weird music selections (including some patriotic choices) with animal sounds interspersed. We are in nature- I don’t think we needed the owl sounds added. The “grand finale,” as my mom called it, was the truck racing by as they played “Chariots of Fire.” There was no real resolution to the historical part of the tour and there was some final preaching but I was fixated on the lights on shore that indicated we were nearing the end. It was overall a highly entertaining night- just not for the reasons it was supposed to be. If you ever find yourself in Moab and someone else is willing to pay, why not spend a few hours on the Colorado on the Canonlands by Night tour? It is world renowned after all.

Got to love Utah’s sense of humor.

For those who were wondering, here is a traditional “dutch oven cowboy meal.” Actually pretty delicious.