Last Friday is the Rick Springfield concert in Wendover. The show starts at 8pm and the trip takes 2 hrs from our house(especially going down Bangerter). I plan to leave home around 5 pm to allow time for motel check-in and maybe food (big maybe). The husband leaves work at Noon to take our daughter to stay with his mother. Even with travel time, he has plenty of time to get ready. I leave work at 4pm, like I planned, cuz I can’t take the day off or leave much earlier than that. I plan to dress casual, cuz it’s not Vegas people. It’s just Wendover. But I want to fix my hair and makeup a little, though. Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn’t already have my hair and makeup done for work. And I still need to pack a few things. I get home to find the husband dressing up. And I’m all, “You don’t need to dress up. I’m not.” He says he wants to dress a little nicer. Fine. Whatever. I pack my stuff in the suitcase and all that’s left is to change my top and fix my hair/makeup. Husband says he thought about going to the bank, but didn’t actually do it cuz we can stop by on the way out of town. That makes no sense to me since he left work more than 4 hours ago, but fine. Whatever. He then remarks that he didn’t realize this was a dress rehearsal. And I’m all, “Dress rehearsal? WTH is that supposed to mean?” And he says nevermind, which of course pisses me off. So when he does finally answer me, it’s a derogatory remark about me wanting to make myself look a little nicer. And I’m all, WTF? You’re dressing up and you can’t understand why I wanna do my hair and put on some makeup? You left work when? And you couldn’t bother to stop by the bank to save us some time? Seriously? Ok, so that was all in my head, but still. I was pissed. So I go into the bathroom (slamming the door for the desired effect) and realize that there’s no time to do my hair or makeup. That’s just great. Thankyouverymuch. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and come out of the bathroom to start throwing my last few things together. Maybe I’ll have some time once we get there to put some makeup on. I tell the husband that I’m upset about not doing anything wrong, but yet being made to feel really small for needing to do a few things. The husband then decides to tell me to go by myself and to have a good time. I NEED to have a good time by myself, he says. And I’m all, “Absolutely not! I’m not going to give you an opportunity to throw it back in my face later that I was a bitch who kept you from going to this concert! You’re going!” I may not speak to you for the entire trip, but you are FUCKING GOING! Ok, so that last part was an exaggeration. I grab everything except his CPAP and stomp down the stairs. The husband is behind me mumbling how I’m stubborn for not letting him carry anything. And I’m thinking, Dood, you just need to shut the hell up and get in the damn car before I change my mind! I throw everything in the car. And realize I’m starving. I know I won’t be eating before the show and I WILL be drinking. A LOT. That’s a given at this point. So I search the pantry for something to eat and the husband asks if I want yogurt. And I’m all, “Yogurt? And exactly how am I supposed to eat that?” He says with a spoon. And I’m all, “Seriously? While I’m driving?” Cuz I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let YOU drive! We get on the road and he doesn’t say a word. Not one. For like 30 minutes. And I’m thinking, Dood, you are SO not helping your case. He finally apologizes, and for once it actually sounded sincere (Long story. Really REALLY long story.). And he offers to drive so I can get ready. No way I’m letting him drive when we’re in a time crunch. HELL no. So we settle into a slightly less awkward silence for a while, which is just fine by me.
The rest of the drive was uneventful until the last 30 miles or so, which is where we encounter a bunch of drivers that are freakin’ STOOPID. They have no idea of how to drive on a two-lane highway (hint: YOU DON’T CAMP YOUR ASS IN THE LEFT LANE! I’m just sayin.). My tolerance on the road is…oohh…zero. Zilch. Nada. Especially now. So, to get away from them, I end up doing 100 the rest of the way to Wendover. The husband looks over at one point, and I’m all, “Yes, I AM doing a hundred!” Just stay on your side of the car. You’re still on my shitlist! Ok, so I only really said that first part. But the rest was on the tip of my tongue, I promise you.
Capping off the night? The motel. I have a reservation, but there’s a delay checking in. The desk clerk goes to get someone’s help. Oh shit. This other person comes out and says that the reservation was cancelled. Ummmmm, I didn’t cancel my reservation. The new clerk says they have one room available (a suite) that’s $129.95. Ummmm, I STILL didn’t cancel my reservation that was booked at $60. She says they’ll get it fixed. She calls customer service who tells her they cancelled the reservation per a phone call on 9/6/09. Ummmm, oooook. I supposedly called to cancel my reservation that I made ONLINE and no one thought to send me a confirmation ONLINE that it was cancelled? Sure, I totally get that. I do it all the time. Amazingly, I stay calm (I have NO idea how at this point). The clerk says they’ll fix it and gets us a room. I’m all, Didn’t you just say that you only had one room? Sweet, we’re gettin the suite? Niiiice! Oh, we’re getting a regular room? Fine. I’ll take it. We’re running out of time before the show starts, so I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want a place to sleep tonight. Wait! Didn’t you just say that you only had one room left?
We head straight to the concert hall after that and I’m so close to spewing forth the slew of 4-letter words I’ve been bottling up for the past 2 hours. Ask Twitter. I’ve got just enough time to throw on some mascara before the concert. And with a wave of that magic wand, I’m transformed into Princess Cinderella who gets swept off her feet by Prince Charming. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t quite that magical. Rick never got anywhere near me. But I got to see a great show.
And I can’t believe it just took me 3 hours to write this. I was reliving it…..in real-time. Great.
One of these days I’m gonna love me
And feel the joy of sweet release
One of these days, I’ll rise above me
And at last I’ll find some peace
Then I’m gonna smile a little
Maybe even laugh a little but
One of these days I’m gonna love me
I reflect on my life & I get very teary. I hope that one of these days I’m gonna love me too.
sat nite i went to keys on main with some friends from work. it’s a dueling piano bar in downtown slc. i’ve been to one before in dallas and had an amazing time. i had heard great things about the keys & could not wait to get there! let me tell you the best way to do this is to take trax. trax stops right in front of the bar. you don’t have to worry about paying for parking, let alone finding a spot. and afterwards you’ve got time to sober up on the train. score! now taking trax can be quite entertaining. this time was no exception. some dumb ass decides he’s gonna fuck with the people on the train & starts walking through the car yelling, “tickets!”. he started doing this right behind one of the friends i was with and she actually started to take hers out. that is of course until she realized who was really yelling. he also pulled this trick to new passengers who got on at later stops. whatever floats your boat, dude – you’re a fuckin’ idiot.
the music was great! they played lots of good stuff. the way it works is you request songs w/$$. if it’s played, the song can be stopped for at least $1 more than it was requested for. then can be restarted for at least $1 than it was stopped for, and so on. ‘friends in low places’ was requested, but i guess the players weren’t really wanting to play it, so they kind of encouraged someone to stop it. and someone did. it was a bummer, cuz that song is hella fun (did i really just write ‘hella’? oh fuck!) to sing. luckily someone else felt the same way, cuz they payed $50 to get it going again. totally worth it! especially when they played the verse where you get to say ‘kiss my ass’! we were singin’ loud and laughin’ hard all nite. (trav, they played that tenacious d song you sent me last week to embarrass this one girl. must not have been too embarrassed though, cuz she demonstrated her fav posit on cue multiple times & it was fucking awesome!)
we left the bar just as the show ended, so we could be sure to catch the last train to clarksville (a.k.a. sandy) to get back to our cars. i made the mistake of not going to the bathroom before we left the bar. so the whole train ride back i’m doing EVERYTHING possible to NOT fucking pee my pants cuz we’re still laughing our asses off. at one point, i innocently mentioned that i was the same age as one of the friends on the train. OOPS!!!!! i said earlier that nite that i’m not afraid of 40 (i’m not) but she said she was, so when i mentioned that we were the same age………well you can kind of guess what happened next (but you should know that it was funny as hell – not bad). i had to promise to bring in orange slices to make amends. damn, she’s easy!
we parted company when we got to our trax station & i had one goal (ok 2 goals but i had been holding for so long already, what’s another 30 min.? lol)……………FOOD!!!!! there aren’t too many places open at 2 am, but one of them is a dive mexican place that has really good breakfast burritos. i grabbed one and headed home. i walked in the door & headed straight for the bathroom, where i stayed for like 5 min (is that a record? eh, prolly not), and then ate my food. i must have been starving cuz i ate the WHOLE burrito & i never do that (they are pretty big & have lots of stuff in ‘em). & then? i CRASHED!!!!!
i woke up yesterday morning looking like a racoon and my throat raw from all the singing and laughing. but then it gets weird. my hips and legs are fucking killing me, like i’ve been ridden hard & put away wet. wtf????? we’ve all heard of drunk booty calls, but is there such a thing as a DREAM drunk booty call (cuz there is absolutely NO way in hell that i got any)????? what other explanation could there be? i tried last nite to start this blog post, but i guess i was still in somewhat of a drunk daze, cuz i couldn’t seem to do more than write a few facts. i just didn’t have the mental capacity to do it up right. so i left the draft in there, and allowed it to stew for a bit, knowing that something good would come to me.
so now, we’re to this morning. the drunk daze is gone, but i have like 5 frogs in my throat cuz apparently i still haven’t learned to project from the diaphragm. and………… i remembered to bring the orange slices. i’m all set.
today i was listening to the kc & the sunshine band station i created recently cuz i absolutely needed something upbeat to keep me awake. i took a break from listening, but forgot to pause the music. when i finally went back to it, i scrolled to see what had played and i see that ‘lady in red’ played. wtf? really? it’s a damn disco station, and it played ‘lady in red’? freak! my boss has said that her abba station plays the beatles and other weird stuff too. don’t get me wrong, i have nothing against any of these bands/songs at all. but when i’m in a mood for a certain type of music, if something weird gets thrown in there, it totally throws off my mojo. lol and it’s just weird that they’re being played on disco stations. diiiissssscoooo. so i start to think that pandora has been taken over by trolls. and not just any trolls, but the trolls from ‘the 10th kingdom’. if you’ve ever seen that tv show, you know the trolls of which i speak. the trolls go to through a portal to modern-day nyc trying to find a prince who’s been turned into a dog by an evil witch who is trying to kill him. they happen upon a cassette boom box that has the bee gees ‘night fever’ in it and think it’s magic. they take the boom box & play the song over & over until the batteries die and they chuck it cuz our magic sucks. lol i think they decided to take my disco music to their kingdom and leave me with freakin’ ‘lady in red’. just great.