Wednesday, July 23, 2008

On the 8th Day of Rick Springfield...

My obsession gave to me:
The realization that I have responsibilities other than thinking about Rick.

I’m a day late on the 12 Days of Rick. My apologies, but this was my first go at writing everyday and it seems my life got in the way. That is, waiting on Monkey Man’s every need. Isn’t 3 when they are supposed to move out and get jobs?

The concert date is nearing and for lack of descriptive and flowery vocabulary - I’m getting so excited! It’s been 4 months since my last show, and even though this is the shortest span of time between concerts, I just can’t wait!

It’ll also be fun for my friend to lose her Rick concert virginity and for me to have a girlfriend along for the show. Before this, my husband has willingly and lovingly (eye rolls are a sign of love, right?) joined me and he has enjoyed the shows, but he was always willing to give up his spot to someone else. He thought he would get out of this one, but my friend’s husband wanted to come, too, so it’ll be the 4 of us. Me, the Rick Virgin, and the two guys laughing at their ridiculously silly, boy-crazy wives. We’ve already planned our outfits – no, not in the “Let’s wear matching shirts and shorts” middle-school way, but in the decision to not wear skirts because if we need to climb on chairs to hold Rick up, skirts are not really the best chair-climbing attire. And I do plan to climb on chairs or any other piece of furniture or human body that will get me closer to Rick – and get another kiss, hug, and signed album.

In time according to Monkey Man, I have just 3 more naps (those are bedtimes) to go until the big day!


Tamara said...

Andrew calls bedtimes nap time, too--isn't that funny? He usually adds on, "no, no, no...the BIG nap, when it's dark," just 'cause I'm a flipping moron who has to have everything explained in detail by a not-yet 3 year old.

My husband and yours would probably have a lot to talk about with their "Ricksperiences"--James has helped me "stalk" the man for autographs and photo ops, and of course, had the conversations with Rick when I was a slobbering idiot. Uggh, the embarrassment---I'm positive Rick remembers me, if only because I seemed like I'd had a lobotomy *and* some sort of palsy that was making me visibly quake in my shoes.

youarekiddingme said...

Tamara - yes, don't you love the explanations they give? And by the way, sometimes I truly believe I AM a moron. Motherhood did that to me.