Friday Date Night or, Why I Am Not Hip Part 1

This was an awesome Friday. We had delicious food, good drinks, and great entertainment. I have to say that this may have been one of the better evenings that we've spent in Portland so far. Jesse and I made a pizza that was surprisingly good. We had drinks that were delicious. And we went to a concert that was sold out, but ended up at another concert that was pretty cool.

Despite how awesome I think that I am at home, tonight's concert venue solidified that a) I am old b) I am totally not hip and c) if given enough bourbon I can envision a rich fantasy world that nullifies both (a) and (b). But first, the part where I am a rockstar and my husband is a total dork -- in our own apartment making dinner.

I made the pizza dough earlier in the day and Jesse helped out by chopping onions, mushrooms, and olives for the topping. He then proceeded to make a killer pizza sauce while I figured out the Portland bus schedules (to get to our initial concert). His chopping technique is only intensified by his sense of style in the kitchen. Not a tear was shed over onions this Friday night.

In D.C., we often held true to our "pizza Friday" tradition by cutting out of work a little early and getting the happy hour special at Duccinis. Since we have yet to find such a deal in Portland, we decided to take a stab at our own version at home. Miraculously, the pizza dough turned out really well and I can't imagine a more fabulous tasting alternative. In fact, we have plenty left over for breakfast tomorrow. Both Jesse and I can't wait to go to bed so morning will come that much faster!

After dinner, Jesse prepared a little treat to keep us going through the concert -- two glasses of "Cunningham's London Fog." It consists of really strong coffee, bourbon and vanilla ice cream. Once given a half-hearted stir, it turns into a delicious, creamy treat. As we enjoyed our pre-concert beverages, we talked about the day and how I managed to convince Jesse into escorting me to an all-woman-singer concert.

Then, the night took a turn. We arrived at the Doug Fir to a sold out concert -- MY all-woman-singer concert. So, we walked down the street and ended up at the East End to see a band that Nightrain recommended earlier in the week. We headed to the bar, grabbed our drinks, and retired on a couch to people watch. It was at that point that I realized how much I missed in D.C. (in terms of the 'eclectic' hipster youth) and how un-hip I really am.

Look, I acknowledge the fact that I am an old man at heart, but seriously, I was out of my league this evening. I didn't have the right (Daniel Vosovic) hair cut, my jeans were not nearly tight enough (or awkwardly hung on my butt), I lacked a studded (and/or giant white) belt to hold up my non-tight/awkwardly fitting pants. Oh also, my face was not pouty, my feet didn't turn inward when I danced, my shoes weren't flat enough, and I was missing a bracelet (or fifteen) on my arms. Don't get me wrong, Daniel Vosovic rocks the coif, but it's not for everyone. And I do mean EVERYONE.

So, that concludes why Brasilliant is not hip Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2, which includes: provoking a jerk-face on the #20 Trimet bus (in my own passive aggressive way), my comparative (and pictorial) analysis on hipster style and Jane Austen characters, and a colorful conversation from the bathroom queue.

Goodnight. And Happy Friday.