Archive for August, 2008

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I think I have just allowed myself a new addicition. The Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer. My lovely friend L has been bugging me to “read the damn book already” and finally, I did. I was not aware that it was a vampire story, otherwise I’m quite sure I’d have already read it. However, given the immense taste difference when it comes to books between L and myself, I was cautiously concerned that this Twlight vampire story may just ruin it for me.

You see, I have always been an avid, borderline obsessive fan of Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles. I owned them all, and read them each quite a few times. I’m sad to say that I ended up selling them all in order to replace them with the harcover versions, and have not done so yet. Now, I’m sure it will happen sooner rather than later because my fascination with the vampire world has totally, completely resurfaced.

So, L likes to read stuff like… Nora Roberts … Things like that are on my TICS list. Sorry, no offense. Just not my style. So, you can imagine my caution. The last thing I wanted was some sordid, sappy Fabio-like vampire to completely F up my own personal idealization of vampires.

However, I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. Not only did I love and adore the book (which I bought and read from cover to cover in under 36 hours), but I have fallen in love.

Yes, I know… I twittered recently about Dean McDermott, and my love and adoration for him.

I may be addicted to the idea of love. Just maybe.

Because today, I am madly in love with Edward Cullen.

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Not anytime recently, mind you. At least a decade ago. However, his recent tour seemed to attract every single solitary person from the age of 25 to 40 in this town to his concert. People around here love him, and to be honest, I’ve never understood why.

I’ve come to realize, it’s not his music – because I like his music. It’s not really anything to do with him.

It’s everything to do with that “meeting Kid Rock episode gone wrong” night of my life, way back in the day. Let me set the scene for you…

It was me, Rachel and I think Amy. We were headed to New Orleans to the House of Blues to see our beloved Phunk Junkeez (whom we were more than a little bit obsessed with, and saw an obscene number of times that I won’t even mention). It never mattered if we got to their concerts early or not, as long as we were in the building when they took the stage. We had mucho practice at manhandling our way to the front of the crowd and being front and center. We never, ever failed at this task.  And yes, I’m quite proud of this accomplishment.

However, we got to this particular concert a little bit early. Early enough to see the opening act, which was some punk ass redneck wanna-be rapper that called himself Kid Rock. I was not impressed. I do not even recall hearing his music. His presence simply made me want to roll my eyes, and visit the lady with the toiletries in the bathroom to see if she had any good loot.

The concert went on, it was a success as usual. We were front and center, I believe Rach touched the Soul Man’s leg that night and therefore, she was in heaven. We had much to drink, and more fun than ever. Man, those were the days. When the concert was over, naturally we had no plans to go home – for crying out loud, we were in the Quarter. Look out Bourbon Street, here we come!!

On the way OUT of the House of Blues (it’s kind of an alley way) there was some guy handing something out. It was dark, so I couldn’t see much more than his silhouette until we were up close. Of course if they were handing out something for free, I wanted to see what it was. Well, this punk ass fella hands me a cassette tape. Remember those? haha. I crack me up….

You know the single style casettes, wrapped in the thin cardboard and shrink wrapped. He handed it to me, and my meeting / conversation with Kid Rock is as follows:

Me: What is this?

K.R.: It’s my demo tape.

Me: Who the F are you? (sorry y’all, I was like 22 and way drunk and severely uncensored)

K.R.: (standing a bit taller, and poking his chest out rooster style) I’m Kid Rock!

Me: Never heard of ya.

K.R. (something to the effect of …) Have a listen to the tape, you might like it…

Me: (busted out laughing) Yeah okay, whatever.

I couldn’t NOT laugh because Rachel was in hysterics right next to me from the point where I asked who the F he was – she did that a lot, she would laugh and leave me to struggle through conversation. I miss her crazy ass.

So we continue on our merry way down Decateur Street and there are a bunch of construction workers building/renovating the building that was to become Bubba Gump’s. They started with the cat calls, which is typical. I called one of them out, had a few choice words for him, and his attitude changed a bit. He hollared to ask where we were coming from, I said a concert at the House of Blues. He asked if it was any good, I said one band was. He asked about the other one, I said it was some punk then said “Here, see for yourself” and TOSSED HIM MY KID ROCK DEMO CASSETTE TAPE.

I just knew then that I had no use for it. Now I wish I had it, just because it was proof that I met Kid Rock when he was nobody. But you see, I thought he would remain nobody…

Two months later, I saw a familiar looking punk on MTV, and realized… it was Kid Rock.

Who’s laughing now?

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I told you I cannot work and blog. After sitting at a computer all night, 3 nights a week, there are at least 4 days of the week that I simply cannot fathom the thought of another moment at the computer. This is why I have not blogged in forever… well, that and partly because my sister was home.

But alas, she is gone. School has started. We are getting in somewhat of a routine. Maybe I can blog more! That is my goal. Especially now that my new, very impressive laptop is here. Oh, and my new camera, which kicks major ass.

Unfortunately, I have no pictures yet. N spent the weekend with his dad, and I have spent mine sleeping and playing with the various settings on the camera so I only have shots of my hands, and random shit around the living room. I’ll be deleting those, sorry. I know it’s disappointing.

I have many things to say, and will probably try to get a couple of blogs in over the next day or so. I’m coming up on my 100th post ( although that’s not 100% accurate since some of them are thanks to del.icio.us postings) but anyway, I want to do a “100 Things” post. That’s a lot of things, when you start to think about them.

Also, thanks to Kori over at See Kori Rant, I’ve spent the entire week contemplating a letter to my 18 year old self. At first I thought I would be able to just sit and belt out the advice to my 18 year old self, but the more I pondered on the things I would say, the more I realized I HAD to say, and then it got all depressing. You may want to skip that letter whenever I do post it. However, I think in many ways it’s probably going to be a very therapeutic exercise for me. Just thinking of the stuff to include has brought me back to so many  moments in my life. Hopefully it will be healing… I could use some of that.

But for now, I’m just blabbing. Laying in the bed on a lazy Sunday morning on my spiffy new laptop blabbing to you about all the things I am GOING to do…. did I mention laundry? I didn’t? Yeah. I’ve got to do that today… I’m overjoyed about it. Can’t you tell?

P.S. – How about that Michael Phelps? I’m seriously excited for this guy, he’s rockin’ and rollin’ his way to the top. The Olympics make me an emotional mess, though. I just read that Phelps just won his 8th Gold – can you imagine how his mother must feel, watching her son achieve such an obscene level of greatness? Man, I can’t….  I don’t even know him, and I’m so proud of him!! He rocks my socks!!

[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emzsB1b2cWw]