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Dallas, Texas, United States

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

CruiserMel Takes On The Heartland

Whew, I made it home in one piece! That's really saying something, too. If you only knew the scope of my travel ghoulies for a good part of 2006. It looks like I dodged a bullet or two on my trip to see Kasim in Chicago and Valparaiso (Indiana. Yeah, I hadn't heard of it either. Nice little place, though.) The picture above is what I got to drive through. Hey, I'm a Texan, dammit. Don't do this to me! Luckily, the license plate on my rental said Illinois, so no one knew my secret. And I kept it between the ditches. Yay CruiserMel!

I got to Chicago early enough to have lunch with two friends I'd met when I bought concert tickets for The New Cars back in the summer from their ad on craigslist. G & N are wonderful, funny people who are very much in love. Warms the ole cockles, ya know?

Then a quick trip to the hotel to freshen up for the night. I left for the Abbey Pub, with plenty of time to make the 30-minute drive, but Mapquest led me on a wild goose chase. Having caught not one single goose, I turned around and made it there to meet with S for a very rushed dinner of Irish BLT. I'm not sure what made it Irish and it was dark in there and when I got back to the hotel after the show and took a good look at my "doggie bag", I'm pretty sure it's a good thing I didn't eat much of it earlier. Just sayin.

After dinner S & I got inside the actual music venue early and grabbed a table up front. I got a nice little surprise when Kasim acknowledged me from the stage. Gets me every time. *butterfly alert* The show was fantastic, but he could probably sit there and burp and I'd be happy just to watch. Surprised, are we?

The real fun began after the show. There was a Ramones tribute band set to come on in a couple of hours after Kasim, so those guys were trying to get set up while Kasim and his sidekick, Doug were tearing down, and at the same time visit with us peasants. It was chaotic, but management wasn't trying to run us off. Yay. I hung back so they could finish breaking down and hopefully the riff-raff would get weeded-out. A little while later, I was chatting with Doug a bit about a common "friend" of our's. (Johnny Virgil - see the 15 Minute Lunch link to your right.) Oh and I was also tattle-telling that my friend Merv has a crush on him. (Sorry Merv. Did I mention there might have been alcohol involved?) After awhile, Kasim came over, grabbed me from behind and scared the bejeebers out of me. The world stopped that second for me. The Ramones guys were sound-checking and it was so loud - so I did what any red-blooded American teenager would do (because I turn into a teenager around him, so you know)....I grabbed his hand and dragged him over into the corner right there before God and everyone. I swear, it wasn't me. When I realized what I'd done, I hopped out of my body and said "WTF are you doing?" It must've been okay, because he stuck around. Heh.

Um....what next? Let's move on to the next day in Valparaiso, shall we? (Hey, it's my blog and I can fast-forward. Deal.) I got the honor of lunching with Kasim (well, is 2:00 lunch? oh yeah, rockstar hours). I was an old pro by this time and didn't rattle the dish when I handed him the salad dressing and I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything too foolish. And I was sober, folks! The highlight was when someone was talking and talking about something that clearly wasn't holding Kas' attention and he suddenly leaned forward and asked me if I could hear ONE song from him, what would it be. What? Me? I glanced side to side and yup, he was talking to me. *gulp* Honestly, not only could I not think of any songs he's sung before, but I couldn't think of ANY songs EVER sung by ANYONE. It wasn't my finest hour, kids, but I survived and made it through the lunch without puking in Kasim's lunch or my own.

Fast forward to the show: Brilliant. Wanna see a picture? I know I do.

Talking afterwards was a challenge because the crowd hovering around was huge and though it was something like 27 degrees below effin hell outside, it felt like it was 100 degrees inside and it was time to get out of there. It may have been the nickname that M called me in front of Kas that sent my body temp to 105. It sounds something like CruiserMelicious. The horror! Anyway, we said buh-bye, I got a little snuggle and got outta there with a little of my pride in tact. (I waited until I was in my car to scream like a 14 yr-old at Shea Stadium seeing The Beatles.) My new friends S & M (hee, that's cute) and I tried to find a bar to go to, but apparently Sunday nights in Valparaiso aren't very happening. Dang.

Monday morning it was 8 degrees and there was snow everywhere. Not Texas snow. Unh unh. This was real snow! Pretty, fluffy, clean snow. But did I take a picture? No. What a duffus.

And that, kiddies, was my weekend. Oh and let me share a little nugget about March. We're talkin' Philly. Kasim. Meat Loaf show. (don't even think of teasing me on this, you won't win). Yeah baby, yeah. You can't see me right now, but I'm looking pretty smug about now. Heh.

Enough of this for now. How can a girl write when she's feeling all googly? (my new word)

Scram. Go read someone else's blog, will ya?

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Mystery Solved

Your Personality Is Like Acid

A bit wacky, you're very difficult to predict.
One moment you're in your own little happy universe...
And the next, you're on a bad trip to your own personal hell!

  • Tug my friends will be so relieved to know why I am the nutball they've been trying to figure out all these years. And I guess I don't need to worry about therapy now. Acid. Faneffintastic. Just an intervention maybe. We can assume we will all rest a little easier now. Thanks.
  • Now go take the test yourselves so I don't feel all alone in my personal hell. And report back here.


    Monday, January 22, 2007

    Ever Wonder Where CruiserMel Gets Her Name?

    It's that time again, boys and girls.....time to get excited about my next cruise.

    You should know that CruiserMel slaves away at a job just so she can cruise. And I don't mean cruisin' for men (though I'm guilty as charged), or cruisin' the blogs (though I'm guilty as charged), or cruisin' for a bruisin' (uh, nevermind.....this went too far).

    No, CruiserMel likes to cruise the ocean blue. I have to have that sea air at least a couple of times a year. My personal best was three cruises in one 12-month period, but that was just the way the calendar fell. It was bliss, I tell ya.

    Cruising is something people either love or hate. In my 35+ cruises in my lifetime, I have never met anyone who is straddling the fence on this topic. I happen to be on the pretty side of the fence on this one, the side that faces the ocean. The side that likes to sleep late, order room service, and make my way to the stern of the ship where I can read a juicy book and get a sunburn. The side that likes to watch those stupid hairy-leg contests by the pool. The side that likes to take a nap, or naps in the afternoon. The side that likes to dress for dinner, have a pre-dinner go at the casino along with a pre-dinner cocktail or three. The side that likes to meet new dinnertable-mates, eat pretty food, and be waited on hand and foot. The side that likes to have an after-dinner chocolate martini. The side that rushes off to the casino again to try to win back what was lost before dinner. The side that likes to be still standing (or sitting) when they actually close the casino at 4:00 a.m.

    The side that starts it all over again the next day.

    I like befriending the casino patrons and staff.....we're like a little club by the end of the week. Casino people rock. Hard.

    One time, I had continually lost everytime I went to the casino all week. Continually. The last day of the cruise was a day at sea, and since I was sporting a good sunburn (and thus my coworkers at home wouldn't think I had spent every single moment of my vacation in the casino, which has actually happened before) I figured I didn't have much time to win back my dinero. I sat at the blackjack table after lunch. Hours later, my friend (a non-gambler) said it was about time for dinner and I poo-poo'd her away. My luck was back. Food? Phooey. I'll just order my drinks with fruit garnish. A few hours later, she dropped by and reminded me of the time. I closed my ears. What's that sound? Oh yeah, that sound is our tummies rumbling. It was after midnight! Luckily, someone sent their wife to the pizzeria and she came back with platters of pizza. The casino wouldn't let us eat at their green-felted tables, so the wife stood behind us and when we could, we'd run to her, snarf down a few bites and be back to the table in time to watch the dealer bust. It was divine. I made back all of my money and then some, which came in handy to pay off my bar tab. Before we knew it, it was 3:00 a.m. and they were kickin' us out. We had had the same 7 people at that table since lunchtime! Alas, we could see our homeport in the distance. The cruise was over. And that's the worst part of a cruise - leaving my new buddies. I'm getting choked-up right now just thinking of it.

    But will that stop me from cruising again? Hell the eff no! It's booked. Sailaway is in March. I think I'll go get my suitcases out now.

    Tuesday, January 16, 2007

    The Ice Storm (?) And My Hammer Elbow

    Yesterday, Dallas was recouperating after our "alleged" ice storm that took way too long to arrive and appeared to be quite uneventful, IMHO. The meteorologists were "ate up" about it for days. No kidding, if I could've reached through the television screen and radio faceplate to strangle their scrawny screen (and speaker)-hogging necks, I wouldda. And they were gooooooood. Bitches. They actually had me at "Oh, it's coming, folks, be ready."

    After a quick trip to the store to buy provisions for what might be the end of the world, I actually made soup. And it was good. Seriously, don't keel over from the shock.

    Anyhooo, that was Saturday. And then Sunday. By Monday, I was sick of waiting for the Second Coming, was getting sick of frickin' soup and was looking forward to a day at the office. It was a sunny day, and though my street looked a little glazed, I knew I only had about 1/2 a mile to drive, so all was looking good. I gathered up my usual stuff that goes to work with me: South Beach breakfast bar, Diet Coke, kleenex (yeah, still a little punie), iPod to fill with more tunes, my purse and my coat. I activated the alarm and while it was beepbeepbeeping I tugged on the back door. Wow, soup must make you weak, I thought. Did I unlock the top lock? Check. Doorknob lock? Check. Okay, try again. Geez, I really need to work on my upper body strength. Try again and nothing. My eyes drift upwards in disbelief and I see a huge crack leading from the top of the door jamb to the ceiling. And it was fresh. Maybe the Apocalypse had indeed come and my house had shifted? Nope. Just our great clay soil here in Texas. Albeit, we did get over 4 inches of moisture since Friday, but dear God, I just want to go to work / get outta this house and away from this blasted soup!

    Not to be completely discouraged, I turned off the alarm, reset it and hauled booty to the front door (not easy in those measly few seconds) and exited. I had to walk all the way around back to get my car out of the garage. I hit the button to raise the g-door and WTF, it goes up about a foot and hangs there. I hit the button again and it closes. Again and it goes up a foot. Again and it closes. This goes on for about 20 hits before I figure my car is entombed forever and go around to the front door of the house, enter, run like hell to the alarm pad (by the back door that no longer works) and disarm that M-F'er. ALL I WANT TO DO IS GO TO WORK, DAMMIT! I contemplated calling the dealership to see if I could just buy a new car over the phone, but that seemed a little drastic. I was sweating. I was out of my mind. I had become an emo song. I called my boss (see how wonderful and dutiful I am?) to ask if he's going to be passing by here and could he give me a ride to work?

    Boss: Didn't you get my message? We're all going to work from home today, blah blah blah.

    CruiserMel: Wait. What? You called me?

    Boss: Yeah, don't go in today.

    CruiserMel: But, but........ I need to. *in pouty voice* (Did he really have to know that I was soup-soaked and needed human interaction?)

    Boss: It's just not worth it. Too icy.

    CruiserMel: But, you see....I'm trapped here.

    Boss: Have a good one. See ya tomorrow.

    I was deflated. Discouraged. Dis - oh I dunno. I felt like I had on one of those ankle-bracelet thingies probationers have to wear.

    Then it came over me. I was crazed. I tore open my trusty tool drawer, the one with all those tool thingies and twist-ties, cuz you never know when you might need one of those. Dig, dig, dig....AHA! I grabbed a hammer (wow, I need to remove that pricetag, Mel) and like the possessed mother of a drug-addicted, gambling, prostitute teen in a Lifetime movie, I went back out the front door, around back, opened the side-door to the garage and proceded to whack away at the tracks for the g-door until I was breathless. It finally cried "uncle" (or was that just "clang"?) about an hour later. No kidding. An hour of ferocious hammering away at that thing. My neighbors already thought I was crazy. Now they know.

    I released my poor car from it's prison but was too exhausted to go anywhere. All my good intentions were shot. I'm pretty sure I've got hammer elbow now. And a garage door that will probably fall on me when I'm least expecting it, just out of spite.

    Whoa, that got a little wordy, huh? Sorry for the ramble.

    Fast forward to today (Tuesday). I go through same routine, sans garage door hammering seeing as how I got wise to the garage door and parked in the drive (so there), go to work and have a lovely day. Here's the bestest part and the purpose of this posting.

    When I got home, there was a sweet little prezzie on my doorstep. A neat little box with that familiar "Amazon" smiley on the side. Ah, yes - I'd almost forgotten that I'd cashed in my Amazon gift card I'd gotten from B & S for Christmas for some loot of the musical kind. Here's the rundown:

    1. A book about Todd Rundgren.
    2. "Pet Sounds" by The Beach Boys, remastered digitally. It's beautiful.
    3. "The Village Sessions" by John Mayer, for those nights I need something accoustic.
    4. "Daughtry" by, uh, Chris Daughtry. And it's GOOD.
    5. A DVD of Todd Rundren in San Fran. (haven't seen it yet but you know how I love me some Todd.)

    Thanks B & S for the gift card. You've made my day. Oh - do you know any garage door repair men?

    Friday, January 12, 2007

    PWI: The Act Of Posting While Intoxicated

    First off, let me say that this posting is gonna completely suck. Why? Well, I've got the television on in the next room and though any idiot can look outside or better yet - step outside ya lazy bums - and see that Dallas is gonna get socked with HELLO, winter weather, these TV people won't shut the F up about it! Admittedly, Dallasites are fairweather folks, but get a frickin grip, peeps. Does the local meteorologist have to break in every 90 seconds to tell us it's raining and getting colder? Did I mention this is January? I swear, people are hitting the grocery stores like nuclear winter is fast approaching.....and this is newsworthy on a non-workday-eve, why? Whatevs. But the whole reason I'm ranting here is because I'm too blase' on this thing to get my fanny outta my chair to walk the 15.2 feet to hit the remote to see what else is on or better yet, turn on some tunes. Yeah, I'm a little snippy tonight. CruiserDog refuses to potty outside in this weather, so I've got a present to pick up in the living room and I'm dreading the extra "cookies" I gave him earlier today.

    In the meantime, I have been surfin' my favorite blogs (and hitting some of your links to others, as well) and having a good time feeding my growing addiction. Damn, there are some funny folks out there in blogland! Kudos to most of y'all, my dear friends.

    I have come to a conclusion about bloggers. I should add this is a very general conclusion, as I don't want a bunch of angry comments, cuz frankly, I do know how to scroll down and completely skip your sorry butts. My lawyers told me I had to say that. Their words, not my own.

    After reading at least 2 blog entries on perhaps 50 blogs over the past 24 hours, (okay, two hours. shut up.) I have come to the very general conclusion that bloggers are drunks and insomniacs. We also either get way too much sex or not enough. And some of us love to talk about our bathroom habits. Or those of others. And we completely crack ourselves up. Alot.

    If there was a way to lump all blogs (not just blogger brand blogs) (and I'm sure there is, but like I said, I'm too blase' tonight) into a big ole search engine, what do you suppose would be the most blogged words? I would say it's a five-way tie between "poop," "vodka," "wine," "penis," and "vagina." Am I wrong, people? I really don't know why I'm even writing this, but I've been drinking tonight (oddly enough, not vodka) and I just wanted to see what it felt like typing "vagina" myself. Freeing, I must say.

    I must give props to those bloggers who are advanced in their art. You know the ones: those who post everyfrigginday and those who have video and audio posts. You probably won't see that from me because honestly, I'm too lazy to figure it out. Phttttt.

    Seeing as how my drink needs refilling and I've really got to turn that TV off and I'm feeling the urge to kitchen dance whilst I still have power before Dallas turns into Wisconsin, per the droning on and on meteorologist (damn, that's hard to type when PWI'ing), I will hit the "publish post" button for now.

    But wait - one more teeny thing. Does anyone else use yahoo for their email? WTF is up with that dancing cowboy on the auto insurance ad everytime I want to check my fanmail? That's the dumbest thing I've ever seen. Cowboy dancing creeps me out in the first place, but in shadowed silhouette form, it's just stoopid. (Yeah, I know how to spell it correctly, but dancing cowboys don't deserve correct spelling.)

    Thanks for playing. Take your drunken, insomniac penises and vaginas outta here. There's kitchen dancing to be done! First track: Berlin's "Now It's My Turn."

    Wednesday, January 10, 2007

    Is It So Wrong?

    ...to see 1/2 a bottle of wine on the counter, open the cupboard to retrieve a wine glass, figure to oneself that "yep, I'll probably finish this off tonight," and then grab a tumbler just to save time?

    ...to make lists of stuff to do like a.) clean carpet spots, b.) organize finances, c.) dust and then find said list a week later (okay, maybe more like 6 weeks later) and go "whatever"?

    ...to not even open a bank statement for four years and just pray your math skills are good enough when you carry the total down in your checkbook?

    ...to be looking for something and find a box in your closet that contains the crappy Christmas gifts you received a year ago and apparently decided that out of sight is truly out of mind instead of giving to the needy who might actually LIKE this crap?

    ...to be too lazy to go buy Kleenex so you bring a roll of TP to the den and just leave it there on the table like someone who likes Nascar? (Editor's note: uh oh, I do like Nascar.)

    ...to like Nascar?

    ...to load up one's iPod using one's computer at work because it's faster?

    ...to load up one's iPod right in front of your boss?

    ...to yell like some crackhead needing a fix at the telephone last night, because it had the AUDACITY to ring while I was trying to catch up on reading blogs, commenting on blogs, participating in a live chat, listening to an internet radio interview and watching television at the same time? For goodness sakes, people!!!!

    ...to lose patience with CruiserDog when he won't piddle and wants to sniff every blade of grass and so I just say "eh, just try to hold it for the next 9 hours"?

    ...to decide to eat more dairy products cuz "they" say people lose more weight if they include more dairy, buy 8 cartons of fat-free yogurt, eat from one, and then throw the other 7 away 2 months later?

    ...to zone out while our President is talking?

    ...to get pissed off at people who don't have a clue how to board airplanes anymore, you know the ones....who don't know to put all liquids and gels (travel sized) in a quart-sized ziploc (otherwise, yes, they'll take that family-sized bottle of Pantene from Ultra WalMart and give it to poor folks with bad hair), take off all shoes, belts, colostomy bags, metal plates, and brass knuckles and place in the bin, sending it all through the xray machine and carry only one's boarding pass and ID with one as you walk through the metal detector? Is that so much to ask? Dammit, this makes me crazy.

    ...to have nothing better to do than rant on a Wednesday?

    Vents welcome here. Pull up a tumbler of wine. Like they said in "Steel Magnolias" or some schit like that: "If you have nothing nice to say, sit right next to me."

    Tuesday, January 09, 2007

    Ya Know What's Cool?

    ....coming home after work and hearing "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House on the radio in the kitchen. That darling CruiserDog knows how to make Mama smile.

    ...getting my Tom & Jerry sleep-pants out of the dryer as soon as it stops and putting them on right there in the utility room.

    ...extra sharp cheddar cheese and Triscuits.

    ...a late-arriving Christmas present of multiple bottles of wine, cheese straws and Ghiradelli chocolates all packaged in a pretty basket, sitting on my desk Monday morning.

    ...Maybelline's Lash Expansion mascara.

    ...CruiserDog has to be curled up in a chair near me when I'm bloggin and he snores.

    ...waking up a few minutes before the alarm clock goes off and actually laying there thinking happy thoughts without trying or falling asleep.

    ...my iPod on shuffle mode so I can kitchen dance to my heart's content.

    ...anything from Bath & Body Works.

    ...gift cards for music.

    ...gift cards for everything else.

    ...the catalogs have finally stopped coming in the mail - for now.

    ...getting to see a real live taping for a stand-up comedy special.

    ...my plantation shutters in the living room and a fresh, not-broken driveway (2006's big home-improvement projects).

    ...planning a cruise vacation.

    ...having pickled okra in my salad today at lunch and remembering helping my mom make that in the summers as a kid and how bad it made the house smell, but it's so yummy. (I know, I'm warped.)

    ...VH-1 now has a freak parade called "I Love New York" starring the runner-up from "Flavor Of Love."

    ...the a-holes who bought the house next door who got it for a song and have put maybe $20K into it and think they can slap a huge pricetag on it and it's sat there for months and months because thankfully people aren't that dumb. House flippers are not cool.

    ...Gary Numan's "Cars" is on the radio and I'm feeling myself wanting to do that 80's dance that Courtney Cox did in that Bruce Springsteen video.


    ...Williams-Sonoma peppermint hot chocolate.

    ...getting an appointment with my doctor to finally get rid of this crap I've had since New Year's.

    ..."Ferris Bueller's Day Off" was on TV over the weekend. All must stop when that's on.

    ...pedicures, preferably with the hot paraffin wax.

    ...burglar alarms to make me feel safe.

    ...500 thread-count sheets on my bed.

    ...along with an old quilt from my grandmother.

    ...being in my jammies by 6:00 pm.

    ...old friends.

    ...new friends.

    Yup. I'm feeling a little fuzzy-wuzzy today. And that's cool. You can stick around here or not. There's wine over on the counter. Help yourself.

    Monday, January 08, 2007

    Is Tigger Plutoing Himself?

    "Our top story tonight: The American Dialect Society has announced it's 2006 Word of the Year.


    Plutoed: "to demote or devalue someone or something," much like what happened last year when the General Assembly of the International Astronomical Union decided Pluto did not meet it's definition of a planet.


    Thanks, Dave. And on a related note: Tigger's gotten himself into another tangle down at Disney World, Dave. It appears that Tigger didn't like having his butt caressed by little Jerry Monaco, Jr. While posing for a photo being taken by the tyke's father, Tigger is seen hitting the boy "on or about the head." The Monaco family is planning to sue Tigger for said infraction.

    This on the heels of Tigger's 2004 aquittal in the touching of a 13-yr old's breast while she posed with him for a photo. Though the jury found Tigger not guilty, Disney World is concerned that Tigger is on a downward spiral and is damaging his reputation and will eventually Pluto himself, so they have suspended the tiger until this can be sorted out. Tigger's representatives did not return our phone calls to make a comment.

    These two stories lead one to ask: Is Pluto a planet, a dog or a verb? Our crack investigative reporting team will get right on that.

    Thank you and good night."

    Alright, kiddies. Take a lesson here: Never pull a Tigger's tail. Ever. Tigger don't play that. That happy-go-lucky routine is just an act.

    Now, go Pluto yourself.

    Wednesday, January 03, 2007

    I Heart New York and New Year's

    It took awhile before I got to see this sign last Friday. Fearful of missing my extremely early flight (yup, it's been done a time or two), I got a hotel room the night before near the DFW airport. Simple no? Nope. Mr. Motel Nazi was 30 minutes late with my wake-up call and then I nearly missed the shuttle. Alas, all was well as I boarded the plane, turned on the iPod, closed my eyes and woke up in Washington, DC at 10:15 a.m. All's well now? Nope. Merv was an hour from the airport in a loaner car. Don't even ask why she was in a loaner when her brand new car was only a week old, but it'll suffice to say the new car went berserk and she thought she'd rather put the miles on a loaner. We thought all the travel ghoulies were behind us, but apparently they lived on the NJ turnpike, where we crept along at all of 5 mph for what seemed an hour. It turns out a car had spontaneously combusted Spinal Tap-style and the lookie-loos had never seen anything like that. But back to the story: once we saw the city lights of NY my toes were a-tingling. Until......WTF? Searching cars at the Holland Tunnel!?!?!? We had 15 minutes to get to The Bitter End and I wasn't yet wearing my slammin' outfit I'd carefully chosen. Hey, a girl's gotta look good, right? So at a dead stop in traffic, CruiserMel hopped in the backseat, pulled the seat down and crawled into the trunk. (Did I mention my alter ego is McGyver?) Right there in non-tinted windows with headlights all around, I stripped, flashed a bit of nip hopefully to some lonely guy's pleasure or some housewife's horror, changed my clothes and shoes and spritzed on some perfume. We'd moved 3 feet since my quick-change began. It was 6:45 and we were finally moving through the tunnel. The show was general admission and there would be hell to pay if I didn't walk through the doors when they opened at 7:00. At 7:01, we were inside! I did a little whoring-up in the bathroom and a quick brushing of teeth later, I was sippin' a cocktail on the first row. We so totally rawk, Merv.
    Nice knees, Kas. The show was a complete pleasure. Kasim (and his cohort, Doug) were awesome. Was there any question? We visited after the show and he signed my 1978 Utopia poster. He said something about them spelling his name correctly on the poster or maybe it was something about world hunger after that. The blood was rushing to my feet at this point so I can't recall what was said. Sorry. All I know is that some time after that he was sitting next to me at what NY calls a Mexican restaurant. I remember feeling his leg against mine. As I was having an out-of-body experience at the time, I get a little fuzzy about what happened next, but pictures exist so I know it actually happened. I do recall that he was his usual charming self and Merv tells me she was proud of how cool I was. Here is a picture of us to prove it really happened. Yeah, we rawk. I'm the one with red, er reddish, hair on the left, btw.
    We left there and drove to Queens to stay with some friends of Merv's. Queens living in Queens; you can't make this stuff up, people. Actually, their place was lovely, their dog Mimi was so cute she almost got dognapped, they put us up in a great bedroom and they even fixed us a breakfast the next day to rival IHOP. M even threw in his best Flo impression for effect. "Kiss ma grits."

    That afternoon, Merv & I took the subway with no incident to Grand Central where we had a quick cocktail at the bar overlooking the main lobby. It was gorgeous. Cute bartenders, too. Why is it I can meet eastern European men wherever I go? I totally rawk.We tore ourselves away and walked to Ground Zero. Wow. Just wow. Nothing more to say about that, except our advice is to go. Just go.

    We set out to walk from Ground Zero up to where we had planned on meeting M & L & their friend G for dinner. We grabbed our map and set out to blaze a path that would include some window shopping and general people-watching. Being women of a certain age, we sometimes need a little help reading fine print. Neither of us had our reading glasses, so we had to rely on the kindness of strangers to help us read that dang map. We are both college educated and can certainly read a map, but not when it may as well be printed on the head of a pin! Luckily we got there just in the nick, and had a fantabulous Greek dinner, complete with "tall food" which Merv happens to love. Here we have something called Tuna Tartare. I wasn't touchin' it. But Merv rawks.After dinner and Patron shots we made a stop at what may be the only gay sports bar in North America. It was depressing. Beautiful men all around and not a one interested in either of us. First the reading glasses and now this??? Seeing our discomfort, M & L drove us home to their place, accompanied by the most interesting conversation regarding penis color and degree of bentness ever heard by these ears. Honey, you ain't lived 'til you've heard queens talking about penises! We crashed out awhile later and woke to a sunny, beautiful day to drive from NYC down to West Virginia where Merv lives. We saw this on the road home: This just struck us funny. AND I felt like a complete NYPD detective sneaking this picture.

    We arrived in WV in time to see Merv put away an entire 750 ml of Absolut Citron while I think I made quite alot of bourbon disappear. We popped some champagne at some point. She IM'd with potential mates while I enjoyed dancing solo on her hardwood floors in my slippers. We watched Dick Clark and Ryan Secrest (OUT!) ring in 2007, pawed at the TV screen when Kasim was seen backing up Meat Loaf in California (no he doesn't time travel from NY to California - it was prerecorded), called our friend E in Philly and yelled into the cell phone on speaker for a couple of hours and somehow each ended up staying up until 4:00 (or was it 5:00?). I'm not sure how I got up the stairs to her guest room, but it involved some crawling, I'm sure. Though she'll probably kill me, here's a pic I snapped sometime during the call with E. That's what cha call wasted, kiddies. Learn from the pros.The next day we played the Soundtrack to my Life game using her iPod and she somehow drove me to the airport through beet-red eyes.

    By midnight I was home. And sick. My voice is so screwed up that my sneezes sound like the horn on an 18 wheeler or a very warped goose. This isn't pretty. Good thing I don't have to see you-know-who until the end of January. Heh.

    Awright - git on outta here. Quit being so impressed with my ability to post pictures, huh?

    Tuesday, January 02, 2007

    A Very Kasim-y New Year To You

    Yup, that gorgeous creature above is Kasim. *pant-pant* No, it's not the redhead, ya weirdo - that would be CruiserMel. (also pictured are some of our new friends we met at Kasim's show in New York Friday night - Julie, Shelly, John and Lisa) But enough about them..... Do I look a little full of myself? That would be a hearty YUP. And I was. Still am. Uh huh. He moved my friend, Merv's purse from her chair and sat the F right down next to me. So I deserve to gloat a wittle bit. So sue me.

    But anyways, I'm back from New York City and whaddya know, I'm sick.

    My voice has become very Kathleen Turneresque. And when I say "esque", I really believe I'm Kathleen Turner. Maybe it's the vast amounts of Sudafed and cough syrup making me hallucinate. Oh well, it's better than hacking up a lung. I've only done that three times since 3:00 pm today. Yay Robitussin!

    There are two words that always mean CruiserMel has given a vacation four stars: I'm sick. If I come home healthy and full of energy it means the trip sucked.

    This trip so did not suck. It was full of all things exciting, funny, tiring, snuggly, getting lost, and nekkid (yup, I said nekkid). I don't have the energy right now to tell my tail, wait - make that T-A-L-E (sheesh, this medicine is getting FUN!), but I will be doing so in the next day or two. (How's that for a teaser?)

    To my fellow bloggerpals, I wish you all a fantastic 2007. As my friend Merv said: "It's a whole lot better than that other year." (yes, she did drink an entire 750 ml of Absolut Citron all by her lonesome in the final hours of 2006......story to follow)

    Get out there and make a resolution or two. Or don't. Just get out there!