Ain't No Baby, Baby

Unbelievable as it may seem, Ramblings of an Idle Mind isn’t an infant anymore. It’s a toddler. Yes, my little baby slice of the blogosphere will be one year old tomorrow. And Mommy is so very proud of her little tyke.

We’ve learned how to drink from a bottle. (scotch, vodka, bourbon….)

We’ve learned how to walk, after drinking from a bottle. (holding on to walls helps)

We've learned from other bloggers how to talk about vaginas, penises, and poop, which is exactly what babies like to talk about.

We’ve learned how to not pee in our pants. (okay, there was that one time when Johnny Virgil wrote about getting his septic tank siphoned out…)

We’ve learned about toys from Lindy. (it apparently does take a village…)

We’ve learned how to defend ourselves from Sassy Blondie. (in real Texas style yet!)

We’ve learned how to be a proper sports fan from Lozo. (along with lessons about how to not become a professional poker player)

We’ve learned all about Grey’s Anatomy and The Office from Sarah every Friday. (along with how to become the partyingest animal in Ohio)

We’ve learned how to properly dump a boyfriend from Golightly and her friend, Kate. (I can attest that their script works!)

We’ve learned how to flirt with boys…like Pugman and Just Sayin.

We’ve learned how to play with friends from all kinds of places like Mr. Fabulous in Florida, Williebee in Illinois (okay, so I cheated here – I actually know this one in real life), and while we’re talking about real life peeps, there’s always my bestest rock & roll hor / friend, KP in Fort Worth, Circe & Kerry in OKC, Sgt Redline down in the bayou, Rockdog in New Yawk, Anonymous Coworker in Maryland, Tug in Colorado (bless your heart) and some precious Texas friends like Swishy, ThatGirl, and Pecos Girl. And there are soooo many more that we would like to mention, but toddlers get tired and this one needs a nap.

Needless to say, it’s a fun playground, for sure.

Mostly, we’ve learned to use spellcheck and how to post videos, photos and live links to our favorite friends.

And a most-valuable lesson: try to avoid posting while intoxicated.

Which is something I’m doing right now.

Do as I say, not as I do, and you’ll get some cake and ice cream. Or a tumbler of wine. You know where the corkscrew and tumblers are. Help yourself and get comfy – Ramblings of an Idle Mind ain’t done yet!

…..and many more………..

Sports Update

HOW 'BOUT THEM COWBOYS, HUH?!?!?!?!?!?

And yeah, thanks for the suggestion that I have a tumbler (or two?) of vino to chill the fuck out. Because it's truly done the trick. Mi casa es su casa, just help yourself to the bottle of red on the counter.

I Hate To Get Off On A Rant Here, But..

I like to think I strive to give my visitors to this little blog a positive experience. I really do. But sometimes a girl just has to let off a little steam from the blog-o-cooker. Indulge me, will ya?

By the time I got home today, I was a wee bit irritated by life's little burrs under my saddle, but when I saw what the trash man, excuse me "sanitation worker", NO TRASH MAN did to my trash bins, I was confronted with a choice: 1.) spontaneously combust, or 2.) write a blog entry. Consider yourself lucky, as spontaneous combustion would benefit no one, particularly my dog who was peering through the window, paws crossed.

Without further ado.......

Let's back up a week or so, shall we? I'd gone to the elegant symphony hall here in Dallas to see a concert. Yes, I can clean up like the rest of them. Deal with it. Anyway, I parked my car in the attached parking garage, between the lines like civilized people do. When I came out of the performance, someone had swiped my rear bumper and left swift black streaks from side to side. A note? Not a chance. Uncivilized oaf!

Last night I was returning from dinner with my friend, L, and was driving home in a lawful manner. I signalled that I was planning on entering the left turn lane and did not drift from my line. I pulled up to a safe distance behind the rusty sedan and waited for the green arrow. When the arrow appeared, nothing moved. I lightly tapped my horn and got no response. By this time, the arrow had turned red. Mmmmmokay, it's a nice Sunday evening and I'm a patient person. The arrow turned green again and yet - nothing. Except a hand gesture that either was a proposition or an insult, depending on how one would take it. At this point, I realized the rusty sedan had stalled-out. But did that hand that was so capable of movement ever wave me by in a friendly manner? Hell to the no. So, I signalled to the right and entered the first "going straight" lane and pulled along side the sedan. I tried to get his attention to see if I could help and saw the same gesture I'd seen a couple of minutes before. Finally, I made an illegal left turn from the "going straight" lane and made it home. Great googly moogly folks - maintain your vehicle! Lazy government moocher sot!

Today I was taking a little break from my desk out in the out of doors. There is a cold front making it's way into Dallas this evening, so I was watching the clouds dance and looking at how pretty the hibiscus flowers looked in our building's flower bed. Basically, I was minding my own biz, when my eyes caught a glimpse of a plumber's van making it's way down our street. It's not so unusual to see vans driving down this street - except this one had it's window open and the man driving it was quite obviously having himself a little tug, if ya know what I mean. While driving 30 mph. And that plumbing company is based about 2 blocks away from my office. So that means he was in a hurry to finish-off, if ya know what I mean. Ay carumba. Impatient horny nasty slob!

After work, I made my way to the grocery store to pick up a few items. No irritations here. In fact, this particular store has such great muzak that I felt like perhaps my day might end gracefully. Aw hell no. I was paying for my stuff at the checkout when I felt a presence near my left elbow. It wasn't some stray child. It was a yuppie (do they use that word anymore?) mommy who thought she might get her goods and get out of there a whole minute sooner if she moved past the current People and Star magazine rack and entered my personal space. Naturally, I had to feign difficulty with my wallet. High-strung, new-money, Louis Vuitton-toting bitch!

And to top it all off, the TRASH MAN had decided to knock over my trash bin and had left it in the middle of the alley behind my house and taken the recycle bin and thrown it on top of my holly bushes, about 5 feet from where it usually sits. What the? I mean, it's not like these guys ever even touch the trash, nor do they even get off their truck. The whole operation is done with a mechanical arm. I'll bet he is paid more than I am paid, too. Creepy city worker a-hole!

So I'm off now to a meeting with some neighbors about going to city hall Thursday to fight a developer who wants to tear down an ailing apartment complex near our homes and put up a 4-story retail/residential complex, probably with at least two Starbucks and an Old Navy store within a 1/8 mile of here. This would take the population at that intersection from 230 residents to over 800. Do you see where I'm going with this? I'm not anti-improvement to our area. I'm groovy with it, actually. But the intersection I'm talking about has been rated a "D" for traffic tangles already. So, I'm kind of glad I'm a little bristly. I'm going to use this feeling for good, rather than evil.

So there.

Meanwhile, this guy and I are kindred spirits when it comes to effin' idiots prowling the streets of America. Children, I give you the King of Rants, Mr. Dennis Miller. Take it away, Dennis!

The Great State Fair of Texas

Friday was a gorgeous Texas autumn day. Well, if you can call 90 degrees and sunny an autumn day. But no one would debate that Friday was a beautiful day.

What made it even more beautiful was that I had the day off and plans to go on my annual trek to the State Fair of Texas.

As I pulled into the parking lot on the fairgrounds, I felt the electricity in the air. There were families with strollers, teens with pocketfuls of cash to spend on midway games, an enormous amount of enormous butts, and a large population of blue-hairs in their powerscooters. Everyone had those fair-going smiles, including yours truly.

I love the Texas Fair. I always make certain to hit the Fair at least one time during it's three-week stay. It usually takes more than one visit because it is the largest state fair in the country. There's just too much to take in on one measly visit. Way too much.

First - there are the rides. This ain't no carnival in a grocery store parking lot, people. There is just about every ride you can imagine. My favorite is called The Love Bugs and it's one of those trains that goes around and around, faster and faster, while it rolls over bumps and throws your left hip into a hard metal corner of the seat and breaks your neck. The greatest things about the this ride is a tie between the music they blare over the speakers and the toothless guy running the thing while yelling "Do you wanna go faster? Then let me hear you screeeeeeam!" over and over. It's impossible for me to resist.

Then there is the Texas Star Ferris wheel. It's just gorgeous. And huge. I love to watch it as it travels up and over. It's so graceful. And did I say huge? Yeah, I don't do this ride. But it sure makes for a nice photo, doesn't it?

Another ride that I love to watch is the swings. The little kids' faces are priceless. I'm not a parent (of a human) but this is one time I wish I could borrow a kid.

Then there are the exhibits. I know, I know, the kiddies don't really like the exhibits, but hey, since I don't have a (human) kid, I can go see the exhibits in peace. The new automobiles didn't disappoint. I am seriously jonesin' for the new Lexus IS. I go through this every year where I sit in these new cars, mess with the buttons and act like I'm driving on the Bonneville Flats. But then I check the sticker price and get over it pretty fast.

I went to the Women's Museum to see a really cool exhibit of Hollywood costumes. They had Scarlett's green & white hooped dress that was worn in the picnic scene in "Gone With The Wind." They had costumes from "Titanic" and "Dreamgirls" among others. I was stunned how tiny they were. I guess movie stars just seem larger than life.

I looked at prize-winning quilts, Christmas stockings, pickled okra, jams and jellies, and a whole mess of sheep, hogs, goats and cows. (Hey, it is a fair, after all.)

There was a hilarious show called "Dancing with the Dogs" that was a blasty-blast to watch. Unfortunately, I didn't stick around long enough to see the pig races, where they put racing silks on piglets and they run around a course to get to the prize: an Oreo. Who knew?

But the real reason I go to the Fair is for the food. Counting carbs or calories or even worrying about trans-fat grams is taboo! Of course, I had to have my traditional favorites, such as the Fletcher's Corny Dogs (I had two!) and a funnel cake and two homemade root beers. I could probably qualify as a entrant in the pig races after all of that.

But every year there is something new and this year was no exception. They came up with something called Fried Latte. I never found the stand where this concoction was served and it's probably a good thing because it sounded divine. They take a sopapilla (a Mexican donut - thus the fried part) and sprinkle some instant coffee granules and cinnamon on that. Then they cover that with a scoop of cappuccino ice cream and caramel sauce. Then add a little more instant coffee sprinkles on top for good measure. Sinful. My arteries are hardening just writing those words. Makes me shudder, but I do wish I'd seen one of these up close.

When the sun began to set, I had a new blister on my foot and my legs were aching from walking for hours. I made my way back to my car. I sat on the worn leather seats of my not-new-at-all car with my surely larger behind than what I had earlier in the day and sipped on my second homemade root beer that I'd grabbed on the way out and wondered: we really don't grow up entirely, do we?

KP's BD

KP - May you have a rock-n-roll hor birthday today. Aw hell, why not make that an entire year!

Have a rock-n-roll year!!!!!!

Love ya, babe. Don't ever change.

All My Exes Live in Texas......

Over the weekend, I watched a dvd that my new friend L gave me. It's concert footage of a 1988 Cheap Trick show. In case I haven't mentioned it before, I'm not just all-about-Todd. A close second for my all-time fave bands is Robin Zander (to this day he's still one of the best rock voices around), Tom Petersson, Rick Nielsen and Bun E. Carlos aka Cheap Trick. And they are still rockin' the socks off of fans today.

Watching that show reminded me of a story that occurred back in the 80's that involved a young and impressionable CruiserMel, Cheap Trick, a Holiday Inn, a dealer of illegal substances, a puppy dog, and an angry redneck. Wanna hear it?

My girlfriends and I decided to take a road trip to Fort Worth, all of 40 miles away, but it seemed like a big deal to us. We checked in to the Holiday Inn, whored-up and went to the show at a giant club, the name of which I have long forgotten.

But the fun was only beginning when we got back to the hotel. Our friend A had provided one of the band members with herbal pleasure (to be discreet) for quite some time and thus, we pressed him to get us into party after the show. When I say "party," I mean Room 232 and 234. And no, it wasn't glamorous.

After A conducted "business" we got to hang out with the guys. Just us 4 girls, a few other stragglers and the band. Awesome!

As we roamed from 232 to 234 and back again, my friend E realized there was this presence constantly shadowing her. It was Robin. Yup, the cute blond one. She was clearly 6" taller than he was but he wouldn't let her get 6 feet away from him. We were all agog and hoping to live vicariously through her. E could not have been less interested. Naturally, that just lit a fire under him. It was hysterical - watching her try to shake him. He was a pitiful little puppy, trailing her like that. I think I was more proud of his interest in her than she was.

Meanwhile, one of the other stragglers had hooked up with the bass player (it wasn't Tom Petersson at that time - his name was Jon Brandt) and they had left the party together. Whatever. It's just rock n roll, baby. And it was the 80's.

After partying until the wee hours, we girls went to our room, giggled the night away about E's new puppy and finally passed out.

At about 7:00 am, there came a banging on the door. My roomies were dead to the world, but the banging had roused me from my sleep and I peeked through the peephole and saw something that just had to be a figment of my imagination.

It was a redneck with a rifle. Or shotgun. I know, I'm from Texas and should know the diff but hey, I was on about an hour of sleep. Deal with it.

Anyway, Redneck with a Rifle (I like that name) was none too pleased and was foaming at the beard (ick) about someone named Jon being with his ex wife and how he was going to "fuck you (him) the fuck up!" He thought they were in OUR room. I tried to clear it all up through the door (I'm not stupid now, nor was I then, so that door would stay locked as long as it took) but as soon as he heard my voice (female and muffled), he immediately thought that I was his ex. Phuckity phuck! He started banging on the door with the rifle!

Eventually, I shut up and he stumbled out of my view through the peephole. There was quiet.

A couple of hours later, we met the band for breakfast in the cafe. Everyone was in attendance except Jon, who finally speed-walked in with a pale face and deer-in-the-headlight eyes. Apparently, Redneck with a Rifle had figured out the right room and had had a talkin'-to with him.....at the end of the gun's barrel.

Though I laugh when I think of it now, it was by no means funny at the time.

And so, ladies and gents, there's no such thing as a true ex in Texas. Be forewarned.

I leave you with a little walk down memory lane - one of my favorite Cheap Trick songs ever: "She's Tight" from the 1982 record "One on One"....which just happens to have been produced by Todd Rundgren. Heh - you thought I'd let that one slip? Oh, and the guy in the red shirt? Jon Brandt. I'd forgotten how cute he was. It's a good thing the Redneck with a Rifle didn't mess up that pretty face.

Ohhh, OJ......

In light of OJ Simpson being, once again, in trouble with the long arm of the law, let me refresh your memory. Perhaps Lady Justice will prevail this time.

Enjoy!

Oh, The Horror

I know I said I wouldn't post about BTJ again (or LBJ for Little Bitch J, thank you Lindy), but I have suffered the ultimate humiliation due to his chicken-shit actions. I just have to share this, or I will implode.

I had a fantastic, productive day at the office today. It was one of those where you feel good about your efforts and can say you've put in some good honest work to earn that paycheck.

After feeding and de-watering CruiserDog, checking my mail, starting a load of neverending laundry, I picked up the phone to call a friend and heard that familiar signal which meant that I had a voice mail message waiting.

If I have a message during the workday on my home phone, it is usually something like a reminder about a dentist appointment or someone wanting to give me the news that I have WON a 3-day cruise on some 50-year-old tub they call a ship. Basically, these messages are usually nothing to get excited over.

Today was different. I heard this girl say "This is Christine with Todd Rundgren Merchandise. Ummmm......the t-shirts you bought in Las Vegas? Ummm.....your credit card was declined. Please call me back with a valid credit card number this time."

I was mortified! Of all the places or people to look like a total slacker.....Todd.

God. Dammit.

My blood began to curdle. Again. After mumbling, no make that stating loudly and with force some obscenities, I calmed down and called Christine.

She was pretty cool about the whole mess when I explained what had happened with the LBJ. In fact, when all was said and done, we dished a bit about men and were buddies for life.

Maybe not life, per se, but buddies for 3 minutes at the least.

Grrrrrrrrr.

Todd Heaven

Welcome back from the weekend, y'all. What did ya do? Really? Isn't that illegal in some states?

My weekend? Thanks for asking. Well, it was a little fun, a little icky (I felt like poo on Friday), and a little restful. Rinse and repeat. I saw a couple of bands with a friend, met a new friend in one of those bands, had dinner with another friend, and had another friend over for drinks and girl-talk.

It's good to have friends. I missed seeing them as much while I was tethered to the Boy Toy. I need to remember that the next time a cute guy catches my eye. In hindsight, BTJ wasn't interested in meeting my friends. That should've been a warning. Duly noted for next time.

Let's back up to the weekend before this past one, shall we?

It was Vegas, baby. I know 'dats right! And believe it or not, it wasn't just for the legalized gaming. No, seriously! What?

What it was was (okay, that just looks stupid when it's written out) for something else that is on the list of my very favorite things. Todd. And Kasim. *blush* *blush again* Hee. (And Prairie and Jesse, for that matter.) TR finished up touring with The New Cars and did a quick west coast tour called "My Tour. My Music." Awesome. Todd doing Todd. I was in Todd Heaven.

He put together his best band ever and it showed. Todd was truly in his element and on fire! And with the addition of Kasim on bass, Prairie on drums and Jesse on guitar - it was one big happy-fest for CruiserMel. To say the show rocked is an understatement. What's a better word than rocked? Honestly, help me here.

And I got to meet some folks who I'd met online and in person before during some of my previous "rock-n-roll hor" travels. We partied til the wee hours after the show. Hard. I'm pretty sure some of the folks involved don't even remember just how hard...but the word on the street is that one guy threw up in the men's room near the casino so he could re-fill himself with alcohol and two of the girls practically emptied the bar of it's tequila supply. I maintained my wits about myself (or perhaps had just conditioned myself previously) because I knew I had to hit the blackjack tables after we'd weeded-out the weak ones. Survival of the fittest, ya know. Oh yeah, and though I made it until 5:30 in the AM, I finally lost enough to call it quits. Of course, I'm wishing I had that money right about now following my BTJ experience...but at the time, it didn't matter. It's just the cost of going to Vegas. And the trip was so worth it.

To wipe that image of BTJ out of my head, I give you a video of the show that was shot a few days before I got to see the boys. Sorry for the vibrating picture at times, but apparently Kas' bass was doing it's job. (As well as that dazzling smile - or is it just me? Ahem.) The audio sure is nice. So I give you Todd's take on how soul is missing from today's music. I agree with him on this one. Enjoy!

Love Me My Live Music

I saw this on Anonymous Coworker's site today and couldn't wait to rip it off and bring it to my little blog. Anyone who wants to play along - please do!




Copy this list, leave in the bands you’ve seen perform live, delete the ones you haven’t, and add new ones that you have seen until you reach 25. An asterisk means the previous person had it on their list. Two asterisks means the last two people who did this before you had that band on their list.


Here’s my list (in no particular order and just because they are on the list doesn't mean these were my favorite shows, they're just all I can think of this morning):



1. David Cassidy (yeah, what of it.......)

2. The B-52’s** (it was during college......and I think I was there.....)

3. Todd Rundgren / Utopia / Kasim Sulton (duh)

4. Duran Duran (I will always be a teeny-bopper at heart.)

5. Queen (both incarnations, but I made out with a boy during the 1st version & kinda missed it)

6. Paul Rodgers (smoooooth)

7. Tears for Fears (one of my very favorite shows ever)

8. Bon Jovi (arena rock rocks!)

9. The Pretenders (another college show.....but I have a better recollection of this one)

10. The New Cars (duh, again)

11. Celine Dion (I know, I know....there goes my cool factor)

12. Collective Soul (phenomenal)

13. No Doubt (she's simply incredible live.)

14. Mae (okay, so I've got a little emo in me....be gentle.)

15. Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers (how can you go wrong with TP & the HBs?)

16. Green Day (didn't Billie Jo make my "list" before?)

17. Matchbox 20 / Rob Thomas (KP & I crashed their hospitality suite!)

18. Cheap Trick (too many times to count)

19. John Mayer (I think I'm still melting.......)

20. Melissa Etheridge (I went alone. I had no idea I'd be the only straight female there!)

21. Elvis Costello (coolest geek I've ever seen)

22. Van Halen (both incarnations)

23. Meat Loaf (duh, once again)

24. Jonny Lang (That's MISTER Jonny Lang, thankyouverymuch.)

25. Aerosmith (yowza, how do they do it at their ages???)



Come on, join the fun! Try not to cheat by looking at your ticket stubs or iPod library.

The Last BTJ Story

I sneaked out of town on y'all over the weekend for a quick jaunt to Vegas. It was a whirlwind and it has kicked. my. butt. Seriously, I look like someone with narcolepsy, head-a-bobbing even though I've been home for 48 hours. I will certainly do a post about my trip in the coming days, so stay tuned. I want to be sharp and hopefully funny. For a change.

Meanwhile, there's been a Boy Toy story brewing. I haven't really mentioned him of late because I must have sensed that my feelings were changing or something was afoot. Or both. But there was a proverbial straw that broke my friggin' back and we are now past tense.

Get a load of this, will ya?

So, yesterday I took a few bills to work with me that I needed to pay, right? I opened my MasterCard bill and saw that it was one of my bigger ones - with a couple of airline flights, three hotel stays, and multiple restaurant visits along with the usual grocery and gasoline listings. Oh and a nifty DVD/VHS dealio I got for my mother.

For some reason, I noticed some charges to companies I don't do business with, including an electric company that somehow I had heard of before but couldn't place it, a satellite dish company (not my own), and a car payment to a dealership here in Dallas. Last I checked, I've never had a car payment. Hmmmmm.

I called to see what was shakin' and lo and behold, someone had paid their bills with my credit card. From my computer. In the middle of the night. Uh-huh. I may be a blogger extraordinaire (not), but I am old school when it comes to my money and I don't do my banking or bill-paying online, so this pricked up my ears.

I began to put the pieces together in my head. These charges were made to my account on a Sunday morning in the wee hours. I checked my calendar. I'd been out with BTJ the night before, for a night of drinking and live music and I recalled that on that particular night, I'd taken to my bed while he worked on his website on my computer in the kitchen. My purse gets thrown on the kitchen counter every time I get home.

*LIGHT BULB*

Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah. He had helped himself to the contents of my purse and took it upon himself to pay some bills with the CruiserCard.

I contacted my card company and have started the process of disputing the charges and have cancelled the account. I'm responsible that way.

But I'm also a redhead and my blood began to boil. I had "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" rolling around in my head all day as I devised my plan.

We had a date last night to have dinner together. It had been several days since we'd seen each other and he was feeling amorous. Little did he know......Hell truly hath no fury like a woman whose purse has been violated.

I whored-up and looked amazing. I listened to tunes that psyche me up as I drove out to his place. We were all smoochy and cuddly during dinner.

All the while, I had my plan ready to pounce. And pounce I did.

After dinner I asked him what electric company he uses. When he answered, I pulled out a blown-up copy of my cc bill and pointed to the name and said "Oh, this one?" I thought his face would peel off his skull.

"Exactly how long did you think you'd get away with this?"

There was some quick verbal tap-dancing for a brief time until he suddenly turned the whole thing around on me. On me!

"I knew this would bite me on the ass. I knew you wouldn't remember giving me your card number! You wrote it down on a yellow sticky note and told me to pay my bills."

Rrrriiiiiiight. Because that's so like me. And because I have a house-full of yellow sticky notes. NOT. (I don't even have yellow sticky notes at my office - I prefer the "neon" colors.) Try again, dude. On the other hand, don't even try.

I remember saying "this is the end" as I drove him home.

He had the nerve to ask as we turned into his driveway if we were still going to go to see my friend's band this Friday night. WHAT THE FUCK?

I don't know if stupidity is a valid reason for breaking up with someone, but it seems like a good enough reason for me.

On my way home, I was high as a kite on me. I felt like Helen Reddy and "hear me roar" and stuff. If I could've high-fived myself, I would've. It was strangely empowering. And I dug it.

Ladies, live and learn. I've certainly learned something here.

And I know this door was closed so that a window to someone really wonderful can open.

If It's Wednesday, This Must Be Oklahoma

Oh oh oh, I cannot believe I haven't blogged about the nutty thing I did a couple of weeks ago! I sewanee, someone needs to stick a fork in me, I'm done. Apparently.

Anyhoo here's the dealio. You guys know I'm a Todd Rundgren fan, yes? (here's where you answer with a resounding "yes" and no eye rolls, okay?)

Sooooo, though I've seen The New Cars plenty-o-times, I knew they were swinging through Oklahoma City and it kept gnawing at me that "hey, that's pretty close by and it's the end of the tour and who knows when they will hit the road again, and and and and...." So - the day before the show, I got a wild hair (hare?) and asked the boss if he was cool with me to take the next afternoon off. I had a doctor's appointment anyway, so why not just not return to work? Have I mentioned lately that I have the single-most cool boss?

I didn't even try to find a partner in crime. I was off on my own little private adventure and sometimes driving with my tunes blaring is therapeutic, so I was actually excited to be doing something a little daring and fun. (Because y'all know I sooo don't live like that. What're you looking at?)

What I thought would take 3 hours ended up taking 4 1/2. Who knew OKC had rush-hour traffic jams? Geez, didn't these people know I was in a hurry? I mean, it was TODD ferheavenssake. Tsk.

I screeched into the parking lot and went inside to procure a ticket, any ticket would do - I mean, who literally waits until 15 minutes before showtime? Oh yeah, I do. Since I only needed one ticket - guess who got 3rd row?

Excuse me while I strut my stuff.

Okay, back now.

The show was fantabuloso! Best yet. The guys were either happy this tour was ending pretty soon or they got into the happy juice - but seriously, they played their hearts out and Todd was brilliant as always.

I met some cool folks, too. I was passing out cards for my friend Doug who has an internet radio show on Wednesday evenings all about "all things Todd" and people seemed jazzed about it. It was fun to meet some fellow Todd-heads with Oklahoma accents for a change.

I had been seated next to a guy (yeah, he's quite a cutie and yes, we traded digits) and his mom. "Mom" was really sweet and has been a Toddhead far longer than even I have been (and that's a long time, believe) but she hadn't seen him perform live before. (Uh, where ya been, Mom?) So when the show was over, she actually cried. It was a beautiful moment.

Since I was trying to score points with the kid, and by kid I mean he's upper-30's, I said "Are y'all going to go around back and try to see the band?" It never occurred to them to even try. Shit, people - stick with me and learn, will ya? Gaaaaaa.

So we went around back and sure enough, we found the bus and saw Elliott Easton chatting with a friend. Then I spotted Atom Ellis leaving the bus with a duffel bag in tow, clearly on a mission to go change clothes or hit the men's room or whatnot. I caught his attention and he came over for a quick chat and signed my ticket. (He remembered me from earlier in the summer. Hee.) "Mom" was impressed by this time. I thought she was going to faint. Seriously.

Then, Todd peeked around from behind the bus and waved. I expected to hear her limp body hit the concrete, but instead she went all hormonal and LOUD and started yelling his name at him about 20 times. Obviously frightened, he waved once again and made a sign like "sorry, but we've got to get on the bus" and disappeared. How uncool. On her part. And kinda on his part, too....I mean, there were only like 10 people there and only ONE was acting, well - groupie-stupid. That's only 10% crazy, Todd. But what-er-ya-gonna-do? "Mom" was all upset, yelling for him to "aw, come on, Todd" and "please?" and "Oh what-ever!!!!" Her son and I pulled her away and she settled down. Then it hit her - she'd seen Todd. And he waved. And she was gone gone gone to Lalaland and all was right with the world again. Once again, a beautiful moment. Awww.

Then the fun began. I had worked 1/2 a day, driven 4 1/2 hours, seen the show, hung out awhile afterwards, and now it was 11:00 and I faced that drive home. Of course, the sleepies came over me. I popped in my new BadEnders cd (it's wonderful, btw), took a deep breath, got gasoline and a diet coke and headed home. 4 hours later I was home.

I was a zombie. A very happy zombie who got up a couple of hours later to go to work with very dark circles under my eyes.

Yeah, it was definitely worth it. Man, I love my life!

*Thanks to Nancy for letting me steal her picture - as my camera still sucks hind titty.

**Doug's RundgrenRadio show is too cool, y'all. Last week, he had Todd's wife on the show. I called-in and got to ask her some questions. Check it out if you have any interest in Toddly things. Tonight, Doug's guest is Alec Roeser, a 17 year old musician who is freakishly Todd's clone in style and voice. This kid's going to go places. Trust.

Rockdog's Radio Show

Oh what fun I had last night. Actually, the night was nothing but a laundry list of miscommunications with Boy Toy J - so basically, I was at home with a supply of cherry vodka and idle hands.

And idle ears.

So I tuned into Rockdog's radio show just for grins. His radio show is every Saturday night at midnight, eastern time. Rockdog has been a regular here at CruiserMel's place and I love reading his very funny blog. You should check it out some time, too. You won't be disappointed.

Last night's show was too funny. Rockdog had asked his readers to send in recipes for the weirdest drink concoctions and his cousin, J-Bone, would try each one (some of which were on the air - and therein lies the humor) and rate it. The winner would become the Official Drink of Rockdog's blog.

There were drink ideas including milk-of-magnesia, pink lemonade, rum, beer, vodka, kahlua, Slim-Fast, cactus juice and Ovaltine, not necessarily all mixed together in the same drink, but some actually were. (Think of this one: beer, vodka, and pink lemonade. In the same glass. Nun-unh.) Rockdog has some disturbed readers apparently.

The best part was listening to Cousin J-Bone's speech get slurred as the show went on. Early in the hour he was pimpin' a movie called "Run Ronnie Run" which later became "Ron Runny Ron." That's good theatre, people.

And so is this. I hope Cousin J-Bone didn't do this after the show. Eeewwwww.

CruiserMel: Superhero

I was just reading about Swishy's recent brush with death or perversion and it reminded me about a time the hidden superhero in me decided to throw me under the bus and risk my life.

It was a dark and stormy night. No, I'm not trying to set a scene in a movie. It really was a dark and stormy night, k? I'm not sure why I chose this particular time to do my grocery shopping, but I'm sure there was pizza or toilet paper involved, two items I cannot live without.

I headed over to my favorite Kroger and played hunter/gatherer (also known as the person who puts things in a buggy and pays for them.) I recall having an unusually full buggy as I made my way outside into that dark and stormy night. What? Okay, so maybe I am trying to throw some atmosphere into the story. Deal with it.

As I said before, it was raining just enough that I needed to open my $10 WalMart collapsible umbrella to keep my tresses dry and frizz-free. Are you getting the picture here? I've got one hand holding my umbrella and my purse and the other is pushing a quite unruly buggy across the parking lot. Pretty and oh so graceful, I'm sure. It's a pity Prince Charming wasn't there to ride up on his white horse and take me away right then and there.

My car was parked maybe 4 or 5 spaces away from the front door on the left side. I saw a woman loading groceries into her car, 4 or 5 spaces away from the front door on the right side. I was moving pretty slowly, wonky-wheeled buggy and all, you know. Or maybe it was just the usual sense of moving in slow-motion beginning to set in.

Suddenly, an older Cadillac comes driving towards us, going the wrong direction. That's not so unusual in that parking lot - there are alot of assholes who don't know how to navigate a parking lot at my Kroger.

All at once, the Cadillac stops, the driver gets out and starts to grab the lady's purse from her. And she's not going to give it up to save her soul. (First rule - stupid stupid stupid.) The two of them had a virtual tug-of-war going on and neither one wanted to let go.

I heard a female voice shouting. It was me. And I sounded like one bad-ass mo-fo. *big grin* It sounded like I was channelling a roller-derby chick or Ethel Merman, one or the other.

"Hey. Hey. Hey! HEY!", Ethel shouted.

At that instant, I abandoned my buggy (yep, there WAS toilet paper involved....I remember now, because it got soaking wet in the rain) and ran like a woman possessed towards the damsel in distress.

The $10 WalMart collapsible umbrella did just that.....it collapsed. Mary Poppins I am not. I started beating the man over the head and neck with this laughable weapon. Why I didn't try to poke his eyes out with it, I'll never know. (Apparently, I need a tune-up self-defense course. Noted.)

I was seriously whoopin' this guy's ass, well head, and almost emerged victorious, when suddenly the purse strap broke and the guy got the purse and got back in the car to drive off.

I heard Ethel Merman shouting again. She was shouting the license number over and over again so that someone, anyone, would write it down. (Ethel's not good at remembering these things in times of duress.) It seemed like a good idea at the time. As it turns out, it is a good idea, because someone actually did write it down and the scumbag was caught the next day. Of course, the whole ordeal was caught on videotape, too. I told you some people are stupid at my Kroger.

A couple of weeks later, I was contacted by a detective who brought out a photo line-up for me to my office. (I have to admit, I really wanted to go down to "headquarters" and go behind one of those two-way mirrors and say "that's the guy, third from the left," but maybe they don't do that in real life. Bummer.) I successfully I.D.d the perp (heh) and he didn't even go to trial. He'd been caught, red-handed. He pled guilty immediately and waived his right to trial. Double bummer. I love that stuff. I wanted to be on CourtTV, ferheavenssake. Loser.

Disclaimer: Don't do as I did. That was so foolish, for both myself and for the other woman. This guy could've been armed and desperate. Luckily, he was just a big chicken who lived with his mother and had stolen mommy's car so he could go get beer money. Yeah, beer money.

Bottom line: Just because you are armed with a $10 WalMart collapsible umbrella doesn't necessarily mean that it's a good idea to interfere with a purse-snatchin', my chitlins.

I Got Tagged, Just Sayin'

I got tagged by my sweetie over at Just Sayin. Since my brain is mush following the holiday weekend, I will comply.

The Rules of this tag:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. List eight (8) random facts about yourself.
3. Tag eight people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them).
4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving them a comment on their blogs.

So here ya have it:

A. I have to alternate shampoos/conditioners everyday. Seriously, I cannot use the same brand two days in a row. To be honest, I prefer to wait 4 or 5 days before repeating. There's hardly room for me in my shower.

B. I think the Cingular / AT&T wireless commercials are brilliant.

C. I sang backup with my friend KP for some bands in the Dallas area back when I was hot. No, hotter than hot. Matter of fact, our name was The Scorchin' Babes.

D. I'm addicted to Sudafed. I freak out if I see that my supply is getting low. And while I'm on the sudafed topic, let me rant a little. Dear Crackheads: Because you guys have gotten caught using the ingredients in my beloved Suda (yeah, we're on a first-name basis) to make your rotten stinkin' drugs, I now have to sign over my first born at the pharmacy everytime I have a stuffy nose. I don't like feeling like a CruiserCriminal. So, stop it, okay?

E. "Will & Grace" and "The Dick Van Dyke" shows are the very best situation comedies to ever grace (heh) the airwaves. There are some other shows that come/came close, but those two will forever be in my heart as my faves.

F. I'm a lousy housekeeper, unless I know a guest is coming over. Then I become the housekeeper from hell. And I am one fast mo-fo, too.

G. Naps on the weekend are God's gift.

H. My house has become over-run with chameleons lately. I'm not sure where they've come from, but someone's having babies in there. They're actually kinda cute. Someone told me they eat bugs. Cool with me. I hate bugs. But stay out of my bed and my towels. I saw you hiding in my towel the other morning and it kinda creeped me out. You can have the rest of the house. Deal?

Okay, I know some people don't like getting tagged, so I'll leave it all up to you. If you want to proclaim that you have been tagged, just let me know. If you aren't interested, that's cool, too.