Sometimes it’s good to be me. How good? Well, if you must know, read on. Here are ten good things, ten random-connected really good things about being me this week.
10. I hope you remember last year’s very important life lesson, ladies and gentlemen: Second row is not the front row. Fifteenth row is not even the same freaking zip code, dammit!, but for the Chicago Barenaked Ladies show, the fifteenth was the first row standing. The crowd sucked, suuuuuucked at Ravinia, but getting a nod from the band acknowledging our awesomeness (maybe a rich interpretation. . .) made the frozen tundra of reserved seating bearable. I’m sure that’s what they meant though. Right?
9. After piloting a 7.5-hour shoulda-been-a-5-hour drive from Chicago to metro Detroit Friday, I and six of my BNL Besties got chauffeured in Nikki’s tank of an SUV to the gig at Pine Knob by my friend Ginger. Shortly before we arrived at the venue, MY SONG came up on shuffle, and seven other girls sang Did I Say That Out Loud along with me. I’m not gonna lie, I had tears in my eyes. Pretty sure that moment will never happen again. To me, it was magic.
8. This: I love these girls. And these guys.
7. Having the intellectual wherewithal to say to my favorite performing artist exactly what I meant to say without feeling like I was going to pass out: Thank you for writing the soundtrack to my life. I’ll never be able to express my thanks adequately. Ever. Also, thanks for helping me shake those last 2-3 pounds. I always lose a couple pounds before a concert because I get nervous, so yay for that, but I think we can all agree that saying “thanks for helping me lose weight because I can’t eat from nerves” sounds like a peculiar thing to say to famous musicians.
6. We giggled like schoolgirls until 3:30 AM and awoke way too early with monstrously insufficient sleep. Still and all, it was the BEST to wake in a different city with a bunch of girls who love my band as much as I do. After breakfast, Bek and I flopped down on one of the beds, and promised that we’d be doing the same thing until forever. Still giggling. “Do you think they know how geeked up we are to meet them?” we asked one another. Bek feels pretty sure the jig is up. Any attempt at playing cool around the band, and trying to sound like the mature professionals we are in the real world, evaporates the instant they enter a room. Please don’t ever stop touring. Please, guys. I have never once taken for granted that the band’s meet and greets are a gift to us fans. It’s a gift you pay for, true, but that they maintain personal contact with their fans speaks volumes about their generosity and human decency.
Even when especially when they’re sassy. Yes, Tyler, I’m talking to YOU!
5. Driving home with Amy from Detroit Metro via downtown Chicago. The Windy City’s metropolitan skyline is simply amazing, well worth seeing, and I drove nearly straight through at freeway speeds. If you’ve never driven through Chicago, you can’t understand why this is so major.
4. Arriving home to a houseful of new wall paint. If you’ve forgotten about my kitchen remodel, well, clearly you don’t live in my house. It’s chaos, but the progress is becoming more and more visible. My husband is a superhero! After working full time, he comes home and works full time in our kitchen. There’s something kinda hot about a guy who knows his way around power tools. And because people ask, no, my husband isn’t a musician. Weird, right? He’s the only guy I’ve ever dated in my entire life not to play in a band. Truth.
3. Hearing, “Mom, I’m really excited for camp” Sunday morning as my older son and I packed up his gear. I cried on the spot, and yes, you are picking up on a watery theme for my week. He was nervous, I could absolutely sense it, but once his bag was zipped, my big kid was good to go. Me? Slightly less enthusiastic from the mom perspective, but jacked up for him. If he’d shown a trace of nerves, I’d have come undone. (See above for too little sleep and too many hours in the car).
2. Millions, OK, hundreds of gleeful, geeky messages exchanged Sunday morning about how much the #Ladiesladies loved and missed each other already. You just can’t know the energy and love our concentrated hobby engenders. Learning that the live stream of the show was posted on YouTube, and that Nikki and I made the video during Gonna Walk was a fun bonus. Nikki is super cute, so you should totally watch it.
Videos never fully capture the energy of a live show, but this shows 15,000 fans doing it right. Suck it, Ravinia! Nope, still not quite over that. . . Who freaking shops for dresses during a concert? That stupid woman in front of me, that’s who, SITTING there all shopping and some shit. *huff*
1. Quote of the weekend–upon learning his camp counselor’s name, my big one says, “I like the name Dillan. It sounds like a name I can trust.” I cried and whipped out my iPhone to record him verbatim. We dropped the tall one off at MDA camp, where crowds of volunteers shepherded us through the registration process, nursing check-in, unloading and medical checks. These people? Sincerely worthy of the tears I shed.
I miss my big kid. He’s been gone before at my parents’ place for big slabs of time, but my parents have a phone. Camp doesn’t allow it, and that’s the way it should be. I know. I know he’s great. I know he’s having the best time–he couldn’t wait to shoo us back to the car Sunday, and immediately got to telling Dillan about his Saturday daytrip to Chicago as he booted a soccer ball around. I miss hearing, “Hey, Mom” 743 times a day, but as the song goes, absence makes the heart grow fungus. I miss my kid. I do. I miss my girls. I do.