Sweetest hangover June 27, 2007

 Two words.  Holy and crap!

 

[Hey you guys, it turns out, John likes to play the guitar so so much!]

The concert was amazing!  Oh, I know I probably described Justin as ‘amazing’ too, but that was more like, “amazing due to the energy & the set & the moving around & dancing & stuff”.  John [ahhh] on the other hand, John is amazing along the lines of, “Damn, that boy can play!”  He doesn’t need an elaborate set or have to parade all over the stage to prove that he’s a bad ass.  On account of he already is one. 

His signature move [and if you've never seen it, you need to] is his astounding ability to practically turn his left foot all the way around at the ankle while simultaneously balancing on the outside edge of his right foot [metatarsal?] – now people, that’s talent.  At times, I actually caught myself watching just his feet – mesmerized.  He literally gets so into his music, which is his most admirable quality -for sure, that he sort of becomes twitchy – in a good way, like not in a palsy way [though Harold would argue that I delude myself to see it this way, and I quote, "That's right honey, it's in a creative way ... not at all in an inability to control his muscles sort of way."  Men.]

Ok, so also I followed US Bank’s rules & did not bring my camera … a decision that I immediately regretted on account of they didn’t even check!  Therefore, I must give credit to ‘ms. andrea’ at Flickr for posting her fabulous pictures [and also big-ups to her for getting such good seats AND for being a rebel & taking her camera in anyway].

[I don't know if you can tell, but the backdrop looked like the side of a factory complete with factory lights.  After his  last song, following his 2nd encore, he reached up & clicked off the only light left on - over his head.  Such a bad ass].

While I’m at it, I should also tell you that Ben Folds put on a great show.  Even though he’s a little more shy than John.  You know, just a little more reserved. 

[Take it off!  Woohoo!] 

or NOT!

Actually, he was a blast to watch & totally brought it on home.  He was really personable & interactive & treated us to a 16-hertz note on his cheap red synthesizer which he joked, had been scientifically proven to make you “shart yourself”.  I, for one, am glad he was wrong.  Towards the end of his set & while pounding away on the baby grand, he kicked off his ‘Mr. Rogers’ tennis shoe & proceeded to simultaneously play the keyboard.  With his foot.  We’re defintely not worthy. 

We didn’t stay in our designated seats for long before spotting open seats way closer & moving into them – which was an excellent decision – save for the industrial sized A/C unit right above our heads.  Brrrrr!

And also, I didn’t get a shirt – which was pretty disappointing, on account of I’m not 12 nor do I have only one boob.  We got there around 7:00, which, the show didn’t even start until 7:30 & already all they had left were small’s & medium’s.  Of which we saw very few of.  He predominantly draws a 30 something crowd so not many of us are small or medium anymore.  Sadly. 

I did, however, get a magnet that says, “I went to a REALLY BIG ROCK SHOW and all I could afford was this BEN FOLDS refrigerator magnet.”  That’s pretty funny.

Oh, & on the way home [which, let me just take a second right here to give props to the city of Cincinnati's planning committee for developing the easiest in & out city ever.  Thank you.] … anyway, as we were leaving downtown, we were listening to the radio & they were doing a John Mayer concert replay – basically playing JM songs & getting peoples feedback who’d attended the concert.  So Jo’s all, “Call in!”  So I did and guess what?  I got through!  The dj was asking me about the concert, my favorite song, etc. and within a minute or so of hanging up … I was on the radio.  Which is so ironic, considering that just yesterday afternoon, I’d said that I wasn’t a radio-call-in sort of person.  Apparently I am.  Unfortunately, noone I know would be listening to the radio at 11:15 at night.  Including me.  Usually.

Oh, well y’all.  It was awesome.  I still have a slight, ”screaming my fool head off, bringing it around town, I just saw John Mayer(!)” hangover.  No alcohol involved. 

Sweet.

… and I leave you with some final John love.

[One word.  Lips.]

4 hrs. 28 min. & 32 sec., but who’s counting? June 26, 2007

Which means it’s time for a gratuitous picture of JOHN!

Look at all that … talent. 

Durn me for not being more of a radio-contest-call-in-contestant sort of girl!  I listened with evil thoughts this morning as someone won not only 2 tickets to the concert tonight — but also a backstage pass to meet him!!!!  That’s alright.  Gd fr hr.  I’n hppy fr hr [that's what it sounds like when I'm pretending to smile & be happy for someone].

Apparently I’m looking for an excuse to take Prozac June 22, 2007

[hmmm.] 

Now I’m not a masochist type person, despite my career choice  & my decision to have TWO girls.  I actually do not like to experience physical pain [I also try to avoid bumping into things - because I bruise easily, being sneezed upon and riding between semi's & guardrails, but that's neither here nor there], but anyway, somewhere between lay carpet in the spare bedroom, finish the laundry from the past 3 weeks, handmake darling little cards for everyone you know for their birthday this year [umm], steam clean the rugs and make the world a greener place to live – I decided that it would be a good idea to host a 4th of July t0-do.  Today I decided that.  To host a party.  In 11 days. 

But, hey.  I like to-do’s.  Because food is good, and eating is happy.  And of course, I’ve asked everyone to bring a covered dish.  Of their food.  To eat & make happy.  What can be so hard about that, right?  And because I do not like catastrophes so much, I say let’s incorporate a tasty beverage into the event - me thinks ‘Cosmos’ for this one, perhaps Sangria – and then any such said catastrophe seems less catastrophe-ish.  Me thinks. 

Additionally, in the event that I do feel compelled to stress out about this here situation that I’ve gotten myself into – I can simply take the meds remind myself just how much I love, love, love driving my new car!!!  I really do! 

[EXACTLY what my car would look like if I had just driven it to the beach & polished it once I got there.  Really.]

So, anyway.  Y’all have a great weekend.  And don’t worry about my to-do.  It’ll be wine fine.

When I say John, you say John. John, “JOHN”!!! June 20, 2007

… John.  “JOHN!!!”

Out of the mouths of media affected babes June 19, 2007

Maddie:  “When you get a baby, do you actually have to have a baby?”

Mommy: “Well, no, you don’t always have to have a baby to get a baby.”

Maddie:  “That’s what I thought, so you can just go to that window where they have all the babies & pick one, then?”

Mommy:  “Um.”

********************************************************************************

Maddie: ”Mommy, can you tell me if Drake & Josh or Spongebob comes on?”

Mommy: “Well, I think you’ll know since you’re sitting right here in front of the t.v.”

Maddie: ”Yeah, but I’m very busy playing my gameboy.”

********************************************************************************

[on Ashton leaving tomorrow for Clearwater for 11 days] 

Mommy: “Wow, you’re gonna have Mommy & Daddy to yourself for 11 days!  What are we gonna do?”

Maddie: [shrugging shoulders] “M-mmm?”

Mommy: ”I think we’ll miss her, won’t we?”

Maddie: “We should go to the pool.”

Mommy: [Surprised]  “What?!”

Maddie: ”Well it’ll make me feel better!”

Another reason to celebrate Flag Day [what was the first one again?] June 14, 2007

Today is Harold’s thirty-fourth birthday.  We have to work today, but if we didn’t I would make him bacon all day long and let him talk about cars without interruption or making that huffy noise.  I would make him deviled eggs with only mayo – no mustard, because that’s what his mother used to do it, and his mother is clearly a very wise woman.

I would promote his looking things up on Ebay, like cars and pond supplies and then I would encourage him to call for me to come look at them.  I would support his wanting to watch Pimp My Ride and Jean Claude Van Damme movies and would gladly come running without rolling my eyes to see ‘this part you have to see!’.

I would keep the thermostat at 77 degrees all day and not complain one bit about my hair flopping from the humidity or how I couldn’t let one body part touch another because I was icky & sweaty.  I would not point out how the dogs were sprawled on the kitchen floor trying to get as close as they could to the ceramic tiles or how the cat was in the basement, trying to stay cool. 

I would graciously let him bounce his leg all day, unable to keep still and I would support his decision to wear camouflage cargo shorts with a button up, short sleeve collar shirt.  Also with sandals.  

I would smile broadly as he hovered directly behind me in the kitchen while I fixed meals and applaud the way he loaded the dishwasher.  I would not mind if he took a 40-minute shower or if he hung his wet towel up on the robe hook instead of the towel bar. 

I would congratulate his decision to drink red wine from a plastic coffee mug.   

I would get him a cheesecake with 34 candles on top and he could eat as much as he wanted.  Taking as big of bites as he wanted.  As fast as he wanted.  Even if it were so fast that he was unable to breath and it would not gross me out.

Yes, it would likely be his BEST DAY EVER.  It’s really too bad we had to work.

Oh, well.  Happy Birthday anyway, honey!

Ballad of Who Could Care Less June 13, 2007

I’m tired of looking at the post about I Care About You So Much, because Ashton is out of town right now at a youth group conference, so therefore, not she’s not on my nerves so much AND, to be perfectly honest, looking at Ron’s soul-patch is bugging me [no offense Ron].  Which means it’s time to move it off of the top of the page.  Forever.

Unfortunately, this does NOT mean I have anything interesting to replace it with.  No.  I’ve been working, and attending graduation festivities [because in my sister-in-laws ongoing plot to take over as #1 daughter, she decided to work really hard & graduate from UC with a doctorate degree in education.  So, whatever], & anyway, none of that is interesting to anyone but me in the slightest.  Basically, it’s all blah, blah, blah work life things.

But just because I don’t necessarily have anything interesting to say does not, in fact, mean that I won’t write anyway.  And you know this.  And today, I think we should have a frank discussion – about how very much I’d like to see John Mayer.  I’m fairly sure I’ve mentioned this fact to you before & am I wrong to recall that you guys were going to take a collection to help a sister out?  No?  Hmmmmm.  Well, in any case, I think Jo & I are going to get our tickets on Friday because Ticketmaster has this new-ish feature [for budget-minded, procrastinators like ourselves].  Like, if someone buys tickets & then for some reason is unable to attend the event – then they can sell them back to Ticketmaster [probably for a slight loss], who then turns around & sells them at a reduced cost [example: there are some seats available right now that would have been about $84 for the pair & they're selling them for $66!  Awesome, right?]  And the closer the event gets, the more are available … so I’m hoping that some Jessica Simpson wannabe bought some tickets but now that John & Jessica broke up, she won’t want to go because she’s all bitter that he ‘done her wrong’ & we’ll get them!  Right by the stage.  For $20.  [Hey!  It's my dream.]

And hey, speaking of which, know how you totally hate it when other people start talking about their dreams and it lasts for, like, forever, and they go into all this tedious detail and you just want to start throttling them just so they’ll SHUT UP, OH MY GOD, YOUR DREAMS ARE SO BORING!? 

Well, if you answered, “Yes”, then you’ll probably want to stop reading now … BECAUSE MY DREAM IS TO SEE JOHN MAYER! 

So please send money.  Thank you.

[many hours pass]

Ok, well I just got home from the Reds game and not that I you care but … we WON [don't even ask me what the score was].  Which we cannot allow in any way overshadow that fact that all food & drinks were FREE!  Thank you GE!

Good night.  Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

I care about you that much June 6, 2007

Trying my patience.  The trying of the patience.  Patience being tried.  The act of working ones LAST nerve just by virtue of the fact that you have no short-term memory [Unload what dishwasher?], no couth, no sense of responsibility and the inability to think of anyone but yourself [unless the thinking of others is pointed out to you - & then you excel!]  

[being seriously lucky that you're cute]  Ashton & Uncle Bron (Ron)

A lot of this is just because you are thirteen, and thirteen-year-olds are not known for Handling Things Well.  You know what thirteen-year-olds are good at? [and I quote Dooce on this one] Violently hammering away at their parent’s ability to remain civilized.  I owe you my ability to swear without actually moving my lips.  Because I care about you that much.

Tuesday and stuff June 5, 2007

Good afternoon everybody!  Hey, sorry about the not posting about camping thing.  I’ve been really busy, what with the breathing and walking and all of the one foot in front of the otherness and stuff.  Oh, & also I’ve been trying to recuperate from camping and getting the girls set up to be miserable & bored over summer break, etc.I really don’t have excessive amounts of things for this entry, because it’s really more of a ‘get the little bottles off of the page’, “Hello, y’all!” kind of thing, which is unspeakably boring, isn’t it?  But, you know, if I think about it, I bet before I am finished writing all of these words down, something will remind me of something else, and then I will go off on a tangent and we will all be treated to a story about how I fell down or said something inappropriate or saw someone naked.  Because that is just how I roll.  You maybe noticed. 

Anyway! SO, here is the latest, in no particular order, and also I am hungry, but nobody can help me there, because the only thing I have here at work (shhhhhhh!) is peanuts that I have to shell myself & as you can probably imagine it’s not so easy to “work” & shell peanuts at the same time.  Nor is it very professional.  Because I obviously worry about that sort of thing. 

1. For a variety of reasons, not the least of which stems from the fact that I have a teenaged daughter (hi!); I’ve started the summer off by buying lots frozen, microwavable organic foods that can be easily prepared, plan to incorporate Kool-Aid & 2 shower caps into my evening and have my car (NEW!: but more on that later) gassed up & ready to do excessive amounts of chauffeuring over the next few months [Note to self: Don't forget to stop by Cincinnati Mills to pick up Ashton & friend from the movies on your way home]. 

1(a).  Did you know you could temporarily & brilliantly color your hair with Kool-Aid?  Can.

1(b).  About I got a new car.  I GOT A NEW CAR!!!  Which I shouldn’t have needed to do on account of I just bought my Tucson in ‘05.  New.  But since then I have had it back to the dealer probably 4 times for recalls and 2-3 times more for break-y stuff.  Such as last week when I was driving along all unassuming-like when suddenly & without warning, it starts lunging & surging (which might actually mean the same thing, but for the purpose of my story, when said together, really drives home the jerky & not smooth driving that was going on.)  So when Harold & I took it to drop it off for service [again] he we decided to go next door to look at cars because it fills Harold with unspeakable pleasure just being in the presence of cars take a peek at what they had on their lot that was not broken down.  Again.  Anyway, long story short, I fell in love with a zippy little number that I like to call “the Merlot Red Metallic Saab 9-3″ (!!!)  I KNOW!  It was so crazy!  So impulsive!  But I was all, “If you will take my broke-the-hell-down-again Tucson & can keep my payments below ‘this’ then you’ve got yourself a deal!”  And they did.  I’m so excited to have a stick again that the girls & I drove to … well, ok, we just drove last night.  First the ruse was to “get teabags”, then we drove up to Harbin Park to watch the sunset & then we drove to Annie’s to boast show her the car.  Did I tell you that the speedometer goes up to 160?  Cause then it would probably also be a good idea to mention that it has 10 airbags.

2.  Anyway. Not that you will ever trust my opinion again now that I eluded to the fact that I would be coloring my daughters hair with Kool-Aid, but I have to share something else now.  So, pretty much my favorite singer/songwriter of the day, John Mayer, is coming to Cincinnati THIS MONTH! and I want to go.  Need to go.  This man is just unreasonably talented, and his lyrics will slay you, every time.  If you haven’t heard his new CD [Continuum], I highly, HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you like pretty, yet blues-y music with incredible lyrics.  At any rate – if you guys wanted to take a collection (QUICKLY!) to help offset the cost (Dag, I’ve already seen J-Tim this year!  But hey, that was for Ashton’s birthday present, so it doesn’t count against me – except as far as our budget is concerned it – and then I suppose it does) then that would in no way be a bad thing and also if you felt so inclined, Jo is going with me and she’s all budgeted by freakin’ Dave Ramsey.  And Ron.  But seriously, go get the CD or listen to it at Borders or something & check out the “Stop this Train” song.  That is my favorite song of ever.  It’s about trying to slow life down and not wanting to see loved ones die and stuff!  Ow! But, sooo good.

3. That’s all I’ve got, except for one funny thing I just remembered as I was typing (did I say that would happen? Did!), and which occurred while camping over Memorial Day weekend.  See, we were playing cards and one of us farted, who wasn’t me, which prompted me to remember the unforgettable quote from Austin Powers from the scene in the hot tub when he farted & made bubbles then said to ‘Alotta Fachina’,

“Pardon me, I am not rude. 

It was not me, it was my food. 

It just came up to say, “Hello!”,

and now it’s gone back down below.”

To which Jo replied, “Is that Shel Silverstein?”