After a night of rigorous physical “activity” on Friday, I awoke on Saturday barely able to move. Oh my back hurt! I’ve gotten to the point in which I can tell if it is “over used” or simply “out of whack”. This was the latter, and I tried rolling my spine on the exercise ball as well as other things to help manipulate it back into place. Nothing worked. I sat all day Saturday, barely moving, watching tv from my recliner. And finally, around 5:00 , I gave in and took a vicodin-my last one. Going back to the recliner, I bent to comfort Mordecai (who is currently missing Holly). POP! All better. Just like that. You have no idea how frustrating it is not to know exactly how that happens!! But I had taken the vike for nothing. Boo.
Anyway, my phone rings and it’s my younger brother. This isn’t unusual. He uses us for business, sometimes a babysitter, or just to say hi. He asks how I am and what I’m doing. “Oh, I’m just sitting here playing a game and just chilling. My back hurt for most of the day.” Then he said some wonderful words….
“I called to see if you wanted to see Soundgarden with me tonight.”
“Hell yeah!” “Great, I’ll see you in about half an hour.”
I pulled myself together in record time and managed to annoy Hubs in the process. “You sat all day in pain and suddenly your brother calls and like magic, you can move!” It almost felt that way. I promised to be careful, not to dance too much, not to drink too much and come right home -just like I did with my dad years ago!
Dan was already fired up. He admitted that I was the third phone call but I didn’t give a shit. My son and I had both been disappointed when we learned the show had been sold out. Now I was going.
OMG! It was a fantastic show. Chris Cornell hit every high note without fail. He went onstage at 8:30 and never stopped for two solid hours. It was a great mix of the new singles with a generous portion of his older ones. We sang along, danced and had a helluva great time.
This particular brother and I are the eldest and youngest of my parents’ kids and we have never gone out to do something like this. The fact that we bonded over a concert was awesome. He didn’t know that I could be fun and I didn’t know he even heard half of the songs.
“Chris, I’m so glad you came out with me tonight. I had such a great time. The next time something like this goes on, I’m calling you first.”
Sounds good to me. We are already making plans for the next night out!!
Sybil Law asked me about a recollection of one of my first dances. I was pummelled by more than one, and each was significant in some way or another. I have decided that she is going to get a ‘two-fer’ as a belated birthday gift.
Dances for me, began in the 8th grade. The first was actually a high school dance. A couple of my friends and I managed to get permission to go to the high school mixer at the boy’s high school. I remember wearing a rust colored corduroy skirt with a matching jacket. I had bought a pair of platform shoes and this was my first chance to wear them.
Oh the awkwardness! I was tall, thin and had big boobs. The fact that I was so thin, made the boobs seem that much bigger. I was tall and then I added another four inches with the shoes. My group of friends and I were in our spot and we occasionally danced. We felt out of our element. I remember how jealous I felt when Gigi was the first asked to dance by one of the boys. I honestly don’t remember anything else that I can put into words. It is a jumble of sensations…..the smell of a high school cafeteria, where we managed to sneak a smoke….the chill of the fall air…. trying not to sweat while I slow danced….and of course the last dance of the night to “Knights in White Satin”
The last of the 8th grade year was our graduation dance. Some girls were coupled up with some boys, but most of us were nervously anticipating our first contacts. There are only two things that I can think of. The first is that I really wasn’t looking forward to going. I cannot remember what happened that had made me not want to go, but my mother would not let me miss what was supposed to be a milestone. The other thing that I remembered was that one of my classmates, Bill, was wheeled into the dance. I say wheeled, because Bill had crashed his bike three weeks before and he was in a body cast. I remember the cheers that went up as he came in. Most of us had not seen him since the accident.
I can remember dancing with Gary, watching Kathy dance with Bill B, and I remember walking home with a gaggle of girls in the dark. So much for a ‘milestone’…..seriously, that is it.
What you must remember is that this was 1976. My memory isn’t what it used to be.
Five am is no time to wake up when you have a migraine. At first I thought that maybe I was hung over. But as time passed (excruciatingly slow, I might add) I realized that it was going to be worse. I got pukey sick and my head felt like it was crushed by a truck hurt like the dickens. I began to get the chills and then I got the sweats. Eventually Bubblewench and Sybillaw woke up and we decided to get breakfast. I hoped that maybe some pancakes would soak up whatever was breaking out of upsetting my stomach. After eating, we returned to the room where I promptly fell asleep like a dead woman on the couch. I slept so deeply that I heard no one enter or exit the room.
During my slumber, I missed a trip to see the horses, a shopping excursion, a tattoo outing, lunch, and just socializing. But apparently I needed my rest because I awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was finally ready to go to ConFab!!!
We called for a cab so that Bubblewench could get her drink on with us. (As you can see, we are quite responsible when getting shit-faced). When we arrived at Bliss Manor, some folks were relaxing on the deck, others were by the outdoor bar, and still others were indoors. I got to meet such a supah blogger named….wait for it….DUTCHBITCH!!! Yes! She had made the trip from Dutchlandia. She was every bit as beautiful in person as I knew she would be!
Turnbaby was a busy little bee. No catering for that chick! She gave Martha Stewart a run for the money by making a slew of appetizers, beef tenderloin, and many other mouth-watering joys. Now that my stomach was better, I tried every.single.thing. Miss Turn was incredible, as was Mr Fabulous. They greeted us all and made sure that we all had full glasses, plates and conversations.
The drinks were…..
Ahh, the drinks……How to describe? Maybe this will do:
This was the tip of the iceberg as far as alcohol goes!
And then…..Mr EvilSadistic Fabulous brought out a tray of concoctions that was the downfall of many a blogger…….JELLO SHOTS!
There was much eating, much-much drinking, laughter, singing, chatting…..as well as tweeting….go figure….
Eventually all good things must come to an end. Since Bubblewench had left with others, Sybillaw and I were left behind. Lucky for us, Lynda was sober enough to drive us to the hotel, where we discovered that neither of us had a key for the room. We banged and complained (loudly) before staggering our way to the lobby for a new one. We got into the room and there was no sign of Bubblewench! She had gone to party with other bloggers in the hotel and that’s why no one opened the door!!
Everyone had a wonderful time. New friends were made and old friendships were tightened. And may I add….the best shirt of the party:
I hope that I have an opportunity to meet all of these folks again. They are a wonderful bunch of people……
But we already knew that.
Drink count for the night: 2 extra superduper strong vodka and cranberry juice (Thanks Sodapop!), 5 bottles of water, 1 shot of moonshine….although I cannot remember if I actually did one. And jello shots: 1 coconut rum, 1 spiced(?) rum, 2 or 3 with vodka and the one made especially for me: Orange jello with Southern Comfort. I think I had 5 or 6…..I can’t remember that either…
ConFab has come and gone. An excellent time was had by all. I will attempt to tell you of all the fun.
Brad and Liz were the ultimate host and hostess. There was plenty of food and copious amounts of alcohol consumed by one and all. They seemed to be everywhere at once, making sure that everyone had a drink or a plate of food while cooking all sorts of culinary delights. They greeted each and every guest, acting as though we were all “family”. For this, Bubblewench and I rewarded them with a gift from our neck of the woods: Tastykakes. (YUMMY)
After settling in, napping up, and getting pretty, Sybil Law, Bubblewench and I joined the others at Southland for a night of drinks and fun. On the big screen, Becky watched her beloved Penguins win the Stanley Cup. So great was her happiness, that she bought a round of Patron shots for the entire bar to celebrate. And then……
I, a Philadelphia native and Flyers fan, drank a congratulatory toast to the the Penguins. *I hang my head in shame*
Other shenanigans were afoot. Photos were taken (both Friday and Saturday) that showed me more than I ever wanted to know about my friends and their sexual prowess. I’d love to tell you all about it all, but ConFab is like fight club and Vegas….it all stays there.
Can we talk about karaoke? For sure! Brad and Liz are old pros. This is something they do frequently, so of course they jumped in right away. Karl gave his awesome serenade to Brad, Marty was incredible, and there was Coal Miner’s Granddaughter. This seemingly proper and low-keyed woman gave a rousing performance of Sir Mix-a-lot’s “Baby Got Back”. But this was not the one I was most impressed with. Laci, a new friend, stepped onto the stage and sang Bare Naked Ladies’ “One Week” This is a difficult song to sing totally sober. Laci was not. She sang the shit out of that song, not missing a word or a beat. She claims to have skipped a verse but I couldn’t tell.
Unfortunately, I was not feeling my best. It turned out that I was sick, but I didn’t know just how sick until the next morning.
Drink count for the evening: 4 waters, 3 beers, 1 Duck Fart, and 1 shot of Patron silver.
Son2 has been going to concerts since about the age of 12. His best friend’s older brothers would take him and Mat to see bands like Korn. Finally Son1 and his friends were old enough to drive and they would take Son2 along. Somewhere along the way, Son2 became brave. He entered a mosh pit and a monster was born.
Every time he left the house to see a show, my heart would be in my throat until I heard his key in the door. He would come home with an impressive array of scrapes, scratches, bruises and once or twice, teethmarks.
Finally, this past year he decided that he-in his own words-“was too old for this shit.” He gave up mosh pits and crowd surfing. Since he lacks health insurance, this was a smart move.
He has been injured more since giving up this shit. Just last July, his nose was broken. On Friday night, his lip was split by a drunk who was aiming for someone else. But last week, what was almost a misadventure ended up being a night to remember.
Son2 went to see one of his favorite bands, The Dillinger Escape Plan. He arrived early enough to stake out a spot directly in front of the stage. They came out with their pyrotechnics and their grindingly loud music. Son2 sang along with the songs.
Suddenly, a surge began toward the front of the stage. My boy leaned back and braced his legs against the stage trying to keep the crowd from crushing those in front. This maneuver worked and the tide eased up allowing security to do their job. But while he was braced, someone pushed my son’s butt and back from below and he was lifted.
“Mom, I was lifted into position to crowd surf and my first thought was “oh shit! I don’t wanna do this!” I turned my head to yell at the guys below me and I suddenly felt the front of my shirt get grabbed.”
The lead singer had reached down into the crowd, grabbed my son’s shirt, and pulled him onstage!!!
Thrusting the microphone in front of my son, he said, “I watched you singing along and then I saw what you did. Come join us.”
And he did. For an entire set my son was the lead singer for Dillinger Escape Plan! I WAS METALMOM FOR REAL!!!!
Because these things tend to get crazy, my son and his friends leave their cell phones in the car. Too many of them have been smashed and lost in the mayhem.
NO ONE WAS ABLE TO TAKE A PICTURE OR VIDEO OF THIS!!!!!!
My son feels confident that eventually something will show up on YouTube or My Space. I am hoping and praying that this is true.
Son2 deserves to have a record of his night in the spotlight.
I told you that you ask and Oh My God are you people freaks!! I will begin the answering but I can’t guarantee getting to them all at once. (Mainly because it is hard to focus my eyes and I just may want another nap before long!)
Avitable asked: Would you rather lick dirty balls or a clean asshole? Dirty balls are nasty! If any man wants a shot at having sex or even a blow job, the balls shouldn’t smell like a week of the squirts in unwashed boxers! That said….Clean asshole is essential to a decent rimjob. I pick the rimjob.
Shiny asked: Which actor from “Diff’rent Strokes” (dead or alive) would you most want to bang? Mr Drummond. He was hot in a “Who’s your Grampy?” kind of way. (I am a little disturbed at how quickly I came up with that answer…..even more disturbed at how sure I was about it too!)
Grant asked: What’s the easiest way to score a date with an Asian hottie who, hypothetically speaking, works at a local restaurant? This is easy. Tell her you are directing Gwen Stefani’s next video and you are looking for the next Harajuku girls. Tell here she would be perfect for the part, but there is a catch known as the ‘director’s couch’.
Finn asked: I’m visiting you for a week (don’t worry, I’m staying in a hotel). What are we doing? No husbands and no kids! We could spend a day at Hershey Park riding the rides and checking out all the chocolate. We can also visit a local winery and taste every vintage they have to offer. We would tour every four and five star restaurant that Philadelphia has to offer. Perhaps we can also visit Atlantic City and take in a show. And the rest of the time, we could lie around in our panties and drink ourselves silly and then find ‘something’ to do!
And finally, Robin wants to know: If there were a song that would play everytime you walked in the room what would it be? That would definitely be “She’s a Bad Mamma Jamma” by Carl Carlton. And just for you….here it is!
That’s all I have in me for the moment so I will answer all the remaining questions tomorrow. This is your last chance, so if there is anything you thought of while you were falling asleep, now’s the time to ask!!
The babies are here. They have been fed. We have played and laughed. They have been to the potty and been changed. Now they nap.
I won’t hear a peep from them for two hours, so I came to the computer to check emails and maybe read a blog or two.
I have a book that I like to read while they nap. There are plenty of movies on television and on my video shelves. To my right on the desk, is an unread “Rolling Stone”, a “Reader’s Digest” and a “Better Homes and Gardens”.
Downstairs, a load of laundry awaits the dryer. A load of towels is creeping ever higher to the washer door. Dishes with oatmeal grow crusty in the sink.
I have plenty to do.
But I will sign off the computer. I’ll turn off the television. I’ll place my earbuds in my ears and turn on the ipod.
Every experience in our lives is an opportunity to learn, even a vacation.
I agreed to our trip to Virginia but I wasn’t overly enthusiastic. Son1 had told me about his plans to go with Shenanigan and Jazz long before I had gone to the shore. I was a little annoyed because, as his mom, I wanted to see him put his money into something else. *coughweddingcough* When he told his dad that he was going, Hubs thought it was a cool idea.
Hubs told me to check into the cost of the hotel where Son1 had already made his reservations. I dragged my feet about it. I made excuses that I was too busy to check things out.
You see, driving the two hours to the shore can be pretty taxing on my back. If I take precautions, I can make the trip with the minimum of discomfort. But if that trip is only two hours, what will happen on a trip that takes five hours? Busch Gardens has coasters. If everyone else went on the rides, what would I get to do?
History-at least American History- has been drilled into my head since I was a kid. Living outside of Philadelphia as I do, touring historical sites was a staple of class trips. I really didn’t want to go and walk all day in the heat and see more of it.
But I finally relented. I would go for my husband, who for a change was excited about the prospect of the trip. I told myself that “At least it would be something different“.
Then there was the Four Tops. This would be another chance for me to be a martyr for my husband’s happiness. I would go and pretend to have a good time.
But somewhere along the way, I learned something.
If I would just relax and give things a chance I might be surprised.
Hubs graciously agreed to make frequent stops while driving so that I could stretch my back. This made the trip pleasant. As for the trip through history, I was so busy hoping that it wouldn’t rain on us, that I forgot to bitch about the heat and my aching feet. As long as I took the precautions and was careful about the rides I went on, I could ride just like everyone else. And if I would just open my mind a wee bit, I might enjoy the music and dance.
So I learned that *gasp!* it isn’t always gonna be about me.
Sometimes I’ll have to take one for the team. But it’s up to me to make it a home run.