Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
So here is the replacement post, but 1.) it's not remotely funny, 2.) it's not negative cuz me no likey the negative.
It was brought to my attention the following news story and I thought it was cool. Read it here. If you don't want to read it, basically it says that Brian May, guitarist for Queen put his educational needs on hold when Queen hit it big back in the 70's. I guess he got bored one day and decided to tie up some loose ends and finished his PhD in Astrophysics. Mmmkay. Still, how groovy is that? I mean, that's hard!!!
Now, I for one have considered (for a few brief moments) going to graduate business school or switching it up entirely and going to paralegal school or maybe even art school. But I figured I am way out of practice with the studying game, at my advanced age of .... oh wait, you're not getting me to go there, but let's just say that I've been out of college for a while. I feel so totally wimpy now. Go Brian!
And this just entered my head the other day. Remember when I went up to Cleveland and saw a Meat Loaf concert and that one girl I'd met got mugged before the show? Well, I never finished the story. Apparently, after the show, she was hanging around out back, trying to get an autograph or photo or whatnot. She was telling someone about the mugging and Meat Loaf overheard her talking. Do you know what he did? He had one of his security dudes walk her to her car. That big guy must have one big heart. Awwwwwwwww.
That's about it. My blogging well is a little on the dry side today. I've got some good stuff planned this week, so I'm hoping to have something interesting to report.
Meanwhile, y'all have a great week, you hear?
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
When my alarm went off, I woke up with one of those blaring headaches. Those ones that escape description. All you know is that something hurts like a mutha and you just want to reach into your cranium and pull a chunk of pain out through your ear. Nothing was going to help except for a big dose of Excedrin, some hot tea and hitting the bed with CruiserDog for a few more hours of shut-eye.
When I awoke around 4:00 this afternoon I felt loads better. I moved into the den to see what might be on daytime television.
What a disappointment! I figured out I don't think I'd make a good kept woman. Daytime television sucks. Hard.
I'm no Oprah girl. I have to be in the mood for Lifetime network. Even VH-1 didn't grab my attention. I've got the super duper grande package of channels, but couldn't find anything. Anything!
I picked through my DVD collection and pulled out a little gem I had not seen in awhile and popped it in the player. I should've watched it earlier today. It might be good medicine.
So with little adieu, I give you, Spinal Tap.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Scratch that. It was a monsoon. Or typhoon. Ridiculous rain. And my $10 WalMart umbrella with super powers used mainly for fighting off villains in Kroger parking lots was nowhere to be found.
Well, there goes a waste of good hair products.
I pulled up in what must've been an area of Cleveland that was used in some Stephen King movie about the apocalypse because seriously, there was not an open business nearby except a Subway restaurant and the masonic temple thingy. So much for going cheap with the hotel reservation, CM.
I pulled the hearse into the parking lot and splashed through the potholes in bare feet. I should've taken it as a sign when the hotel had no welcoming mat on which to wipe my paws, so that when my day-old pedicured toes hit the marble floor, I went into full Herky cheerleader jump pose and landed on my right buttock. The Chinese woman at the desk didn't even look up. I guess that had happened a dozen times that morning. Hmmm, would a little eye contact or a "are you okay?" be admitting liability, Chinese wench?
The place was weird. It was an American hotel chain, but all the decoration was Chinese with those huge vases and Buddha statues everywhere. And they all had price tags on them in case you felt compelled to buy one of those 4-foot tall suckers to take home to the kiddies as a souvenir. "My mommy went to Cleveland and all I got was this lousy vase."
Because it was hours before the official check-in time, she only had one room ready. I'll take it, I said through wet bangs.
Chinese wench: You not intellested in dat loom.
CM: I'm not? Why not?
Chinese wench: It on floor we save for yung people.
CM: *thinking about taking her down at this point*
Chinese wench: Dat floor is where we put noisy people.
CM: How do you know I'm not noisy? Let me have it. *sheesh*
I opened the door to the room and it was lovely. For a Chinese-run American hotel chain whose door I will never darken again in my natural life, but was willing to give it the ole college try this particular time.
After whoring-up for the second time before noon, I did some exploring of the city, grabbed some lunch and talked on the phone with Kas before he had to go to sound check. Yeah, that's how I roll, bro. 'Nuff said.
Fast-forward to later that evening, if you will. I was to meet up with T, M, and S from England who runs Kasim's website and I swear must have a GPS planted on him since she knows where he is more often than he does, for dinner. We were to meet at the mall which provides parking for the venue. Easy breezy, huh? So, I'm waiting for the girls at the bottom of an escalator that takes you up into said mall, but still in the parking garage, right? I turn around and see a girl I'd met the night before at the solo show and she's white as a sheet and shaking uncontrollably. She was on her way to meet up with some Meat Loaf fans for a pre-concert dinner at a different restaurant in the mall and had been mugged only moments before she saw me.
Great P.R., Cleveland.
Anyway we helped her get her wits about herself, patted her on the behind (no, not really, I just like saying that) and sent her on her sad and pathetic way. At least the scumbag didn't steal her front-row-center ticket! Priorities, man!
After dinner we boarded a shuttle bus down to a really cool venue on the river. The Cuya-something River. The sun had come out and it was lovely. The show was amazing. (I know, you're thinking I must be kidding, right?) But really, it was wayyyy better than the show I'd seen in Philly in the spring. It went on for 2 hours and Kasim did well and looked oh-so-hot. What? Like he could look any other way? Thanks, T, again for letting me steal a photo from your camera.
But before too long, the show was over and dammit all, Cleveland rolled up the sidewalks and there was no place to go hang, get a beverage and trade our reviews.
What's up with that, Cleveland? Seriously, the city was dead and it was only 11:00. Oh well. I'd snarfed down enough $7 beers to lull me to sleep.
And sleep, I did. It's nice when the air conditioning is working and it's not raining in through the window. At least this hotel got points for that. And it wasn't noisy at all. Well, except for the sound of dead bodies being thrown down the elevator shaft or cows in pain.
The next day, Friday, I whored-up and met T for lunch and a day of Rock & Roll memorabilia at the Hall Of Fame. It was fantastic! If you're in Cleveland, check it out. But give yourself a bunch of time to do so. We almost ran out of time to see the special exhibit they've got (through this month or maybe next) about The Doors. I can't say I have ever been a fan, but the whole Jim Morrison legend does enthrall me. There's some really cool letters between Jim's father and the US Ambassador to France where he died. Lots of controversy there.
Oh that just reminded me - my friend Merv was a Jim Morrison fan and being the nutball that she is, she used to tell people he had not died and that he was living in her parents' guesthouse. Dunno why. But that's how she rolls, bro.
After the HOF, we grabbed a bite of dinner and parted ways since I was tired and wanted to just relax at my hotel and pack up to go home the next day.
After talking to a friend, M, on the phone for a bit, I was feeling like I wanted to visit the hotel bar for a nightcap. So, I put on some shoes and went downstairs to the hotel bar, which happened to be inside the, dare I say it?, Chinese restaurant. Um, k.
To the naked eye, the place looked like it should have dogs hanging up like meat, but the place totally rocked!
Apparently, all of the other guests at the hotel were Yankee fans who had just seen their boys win against the Indians. It must've been "towel" night at the ballpark, because they all had Cleveland Indians towels on their heads, in a mocking manner, and were quickly emptying the bar of their inventory.
I grabbed a bar stool and enjoyed a couple of Three Olives Cherry vodka with diet coke (my new drink) and became the token southern belle of the ball amongst a sea of New York accents. I was a hit, kind of like Blanche from The Golden Girls at a bar. Good times. And yes, that was a tip-of-the-hat to LindyStars and her Golden Girls references.
At 11:00 the bar closed. Seriously, Cleveland - what's with 11:00 being the witching hour?
We adjourned to one of the Yankee's rooms to play a little Texas Hold 'Em when my cellphone rang.
My mother had become very ill and was being taken to the hospital. In Dallas. Grrrreat. So much for playing poker with cute boys.
I spent the whole night on the phone, stressing and trying to get an earlier flight out of town to no avail. (Remember, it was after friggin' 11:00.) So I stuck with my original flight plan.
I made my way to the airport in the morning, dropped the hearse off at the rental place where they totally didn't believe I'd put any gas in the car (and they were right) and they charged me $30 for that lie.
Though I had a total blasty-blast and the people of Cleveland DO rock, I couldn't get home fast enough. Luckily, my mother made a turn for the better on Sunday and they released her from the hospital. Once I got her and her caretaker settled-in at the house, I went home and took a nap. A four-hour well-deserved nap.
And that, chitlins, was my trip to Cleveland. The End.
Tomorrow night - I'm collecting on my birthday prezzie from BTJ - tickets to see Patty Smyth and Scandal at the House of Blues. I need to find my shoulder pads and hairspray so I can hold my bangs in an unnatural upward fashion for my trip back to the 80's! FYI, the bass player in the back of this photo from 2005? Yeah, Kasim. Just sayin.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Some time ago, I "met" a friend, we'll call her T, on a Todd Rundgren forum. We became email friends and somewhere along the line we became really good friends, online and on the telephone. We shared a mutual interest in all things Todd and/or Kasim-related. We would giggle and tell stories and trade photos. Online.
When Kasim was going to be in Cleveland doing a solo show, along with performing with Meat Loaf, and seeing as how CM hasn't done anything crazy in August yet, I decided this would be a perfect time to meet T in person and have a little sisterly bonding, whilst having a nice "view," as it were.
Funny sidenote: Boy Toy J actually blessed this union. And I'm not talking about meeting T. It was surreal. I'm sure it was spawned by alcohol and wanting to please his girlfriend, but when he said I should.......oh I can't tell it out loud.......let's just stick with surreal, shall we?
So, Wednesday morning I dropped The Romanian at the rental car place and got to the airport a full 2 hours before my flight. As you know, I'm prone to travel ghoulies and frankly, I'm perdy darn sick of it. So I decided to head the ghoulies off at the pass. Be proactive: that's my motto now.
I made the flight to Memphis just fine, even having time to grab a granola bar, some water and a tacky magazine at a newsstand. The flight was uneventful. That worried me a bit, I admit. As soon as the plane touched ground, I dashed to the front of the plane, wanting to be 1st to step off and move on to my connecting flight.
*pause* *longer pause* *even longer pause*
Would you believe the damn sky bridge (or whatever it's called) broke? I felt my scalp crawl. In my head I was praying "please get me off this plane." At least I hope it was in my head.
Then the pilot spoke: "We will lower the stairs from the rear of the plane for disembarkation for your convenience."
WHAT THE FUCK? I'm at the front of the plane!!!!!
Anyway - we deboarded like the Beatles arriving in NYC, except there weren't any adoring fans or flowers being thrown at us. Once I got around the slowest passengers on earth, I did an OJ through the airport and got to my gate with 2 minutes to spare. Two.
Once in Cleveland, I was "upgraded" to a "better" rental car than the roller skate on tires I'd signed-up for. Hey, I'm frugal; get over it. This "better" car was a huge monstrosity, a Dodge I think, and it looked like a hearse. A big, ugly hearse. Yeah, this was sexy all right. Quite.
I made my way to the hotel in a place called Willoughby (sounds pretty, doesn't it. ummmkay) where my room was as humid as a rainforest with water literally running down the mirrors, turned on the a/c and headed for the mall to get a mani and pedi. Happily, it was heavenly. I even fell asleep. Don't you love those chairs with the massage thingies in them?
Later on, I whored-up and T came to pick me up for dinner. She's adorable. She's sweet and kind of shy at first, but she's a hoot once you get her talking, especially about Kasim. We were like teenagers, giddy and excited to see Kas' solo show at a place called the Beachland Ballroom. Why it was called a ballroom, I'm not sure; it looked like a bar to me. And it had one of those, too. Bonus!
We got our seats on the first row and whispered about how cute he looked (he really did!) and how funny his stories are every time. In addition to getting to see Kasim, he was joined on stage by a surprise guest - Randy Flowers, one of the guitar players in Meat Loaf's band. Then in walked a good portion of the rest of Meat's band, including Paul Crook (the other guitarist) and the two girl singers (C.C. and Aspen Miller). It made it a very special night, for Kasim and for us. Natch, I bullied my way through the crowd to meet everyone. It was too cool for school, I tell ya.
Don't eeeeeeeven look at me in this next picture. Just look at that famous smile on Kas. But seriously, what's with my neck? And remind me to use more conditioner next time. Okay, you can look at me just this once because you have just got to see the dumbfounded deer-in-the-headlights look in my eyes. This is normal when I see him. I have no idea why he even bothers with me.
This next one is a little better. This is Paul Crook. He's got a great laugh.
That's Kasim, Randy, Aspen and Paul. Nice family portrait, no?
When the night was over, T took me back to the hotel, where lo and behold - darkness. Complete darkness. And not a hum or buzz of electricity in the air except for the buzzing in my head from a little too much bourbon. Luckily, T had a flashlight to give me, I opened the window, washed my face off and got on the cellphone with S (in California) to report about the night. Remember S? She's the one who got to meet Todd ON HIS BUS and is another Toddhead/Kasimhead. She ooohed and ahhhed over my night for an hour or so. After awhile, I decided to hit the bed.
At precisely 5:41 a.m., the lights and television turned on like a brutal high beam straight to my retinas! And it was raining. Into my room. Fantastico.
Later on that morning, I changed hotels to one closer into Cleveland to ready myself for another night of fun, T, Kasim and Meat Loaf.
I'll give you a day or two to absorb all of this. I know. You'll get over it. Eventually.
Thanks to T for letting me steal her photos as my camera decided to go on the fritz and was a totally worthless piece of shit all weekend.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
He: CM? It's the Romanian. I'm here!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
"Come here, my love lump."
"Careful now, don't scratch it."
"You want some dinner? I'll make gravy."
"Who loves you?"
"Baby, you're my handsome prince."
"D'you want me to scratch your butt?"
"Gimme a kiss."
"Come snuggle with me."
"Oh goodie, you're showing me your privates."
These aren't lines overheard between myself and BTJ. This is just what I've heard myself say to CruiserDog over the past couple of days. Clearly, I need some help.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
It's been a busy week - and we're only half-way through it. Ugh. Let's see what I can dredge up and form into some neat little pile to pass a couple of minutes while you're reading this....
A girl I work with, L, gave me a belated birthday gift this week. Mind you, I was thrilled to have my birthday come and more importantly GO, so when she popped her head in my office and said "happy birthday," it took me by surprise. She'd gone shopping at lunchtime and she knows I love nothing more than getting free stuff, so she had gotten all kinds of beauty samples and was passing them along to me. Me!
I felt like the Artful Dodger in Fagin's hideout, picking through the bag of lotions and potions as if they were gold watches and cash. It was a bag of treasure. Or so I thought.
When I looked closer, each little sample had at least one of the following phrases listed on the package:
Um. Yeah. This is why birthdays aren't so fun anymore. But I have to say - how touching is that? Why would she even think about me and my birthday weeks after the fact? Tres' cool.
I think I broke up with Boy Toy J last weekend. Well, for 24 hours, at least. It was cumulative. He didn't actually do anything in particular to push me into bitch-mode. I just went there on my own and gave him the old speech that rolls around in my head whenever he comes up with some cockamamie (is that how that is spelled?) idea or bings off the wall for the 413th time. The speech where I turn into a mother and hear myself saying things like "when do you plan on growing up?" It wasn't pretty. We all know how I hate being that person, but sometimes it just builds up in me and I have to bleed-off the steam or my face will peel off my skull and dragons and fire will spew from my facial orifices. We don't want that to happen, do we? He wrapped his tail between his legs and limped home. When we talked the next day, he had not slept and said he was going to be responsible and be that guy I want him to be. My walls have gone up again. I'm leery. I'm not buying it, entirely. But he is cute and I do care about him, whether it's right or wrong. And besides, it's not like Prince Charming is knocking down my door. And no, I don't want a lecture, mmmmkay?
Have you noticed the new countdown clock over there? No, over on the right. Your other right. Yeah, the yellow thingy. It may not sound all that sexy and exciting, but I'm quite thrilled to be heading to Cleveland in a week to see two Kasim shows. I'm also getting to meet for the first time a friend (T) who I've been chatting with for quite awhile about all things Kasim and Todd. We're also planning on touring the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame one day! Great fun!
Topic #4 for this post (man, I'm all over the place): I was checking out the ole site-meter the other day and I'm proud to say I've had my first hit from south of the equator! I feel so international now. Apparently, there is an Aussie who wanted to know "things to do while asleep." I have no idea why they ended up here, but once you get past the usual things to do while asleep, I'm pretty sure there aren't many left. So I probably wasn't too helpful. Sigh.
Speaking of sleep - it's getting late here and I'm not really feeling bloggy, so I'm going to sign off for now. Hopefully some wonderfully exciting adventure will drop in my lap soon and I can rattle off the post of all posts.