Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Is That Your Tongue?

Never in my LIFE did I think Rick Springfield would say those words to me. And it's not some bad dream scene like from the opening of this season's Grey's. I was awake and fully functioning. Let me explain before you think I've gone all hoochie-mama on you.

I drove to Virginia Beach with the Rick Virgin (who SO has lost that name, but I need a new one, so that's it for now) to see Rick's concert. It was a girls' weekend (was it EVER!) and we booked our room at the Westin, right across the street from the concert venue. We knew there was a very good chance that Rick would be staying there, too. And thank the Good Lord Above, BINGO. Although the Pennsylvania Disaster of 2005 still rips at my heart, this SO TOTALLY MADE UP FOR IT. Because even though I can (and do) act like a jackass in front of my husband, I probably would not have taken it quite so far as I did with the Rick Virgin.

The concert was great. The Rick Virgin got her Working Class Dog album signed, I got my Success Hasn't Spoiled Me Yet album signed. We sang, we danced, we laughed. But after the show...

We went back to the hotel and hung out in the lobby. We knew at this point that Rick was staying at our hotel, so barring the sky falling or the Earth opening and sucking me up whole, I was not moving my Rick-loving butt from that lobby. He made a quick entry in then went on the elevator. We figured he'd come back down to hang out, as he's done at other shows (that I've only heard about because until this time, I didn't have the luck to be there). And come back down he did, just as I was talking to my husband on the phone. Then I promptly HUNG UP ON MY HUSBAND because HOLY &*%# - Rick Springfield is now 10 feet from me and I’m about to hang out with him!

I will now give you the progression of the evening and my interactions with Rick:

1st interaction - "Excuse me, Rick, I just hung up on my husband when you walked in here - can I get a picture with you?" He laughed and happily obliged - this was a polite exchange. I then asked, "Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?" I planted my lips on his cheek and he said, "Is that your tongue?" Silly Rick. I wish.

2nd interaction - So I have 2 albums and 1 CD signed by this guy, now what? My jeans! "Rick, can you sign my jeans?" His reply? "Are you going to take them off?" My reply, "Come to room ###." Don't worry, people. My husband knows about this. All in good fun. All in good fun. I then asked him, "Butt or thigh?" Rick responded, laughing, "Your choice!" I smiled and said, “Butt!” then happily gave him my right cheek to sign away on. I now have the most awesome designer jeans EVER.

3rd interaction - I realized that I have pics with Rick, Rick Virgin has pics with Rick, but we don't have any TOGETHER. Back to the bar we headed and I asked Rick for a threesome. Take your mind out of the gutter, readers. We are happily married women. That's 3 of us in the picture. He enjoyed my phrase. We got one very nice photo of the 3 of us, then we asked to give him a kiss on the cheek. His response? "You guys are cute!" How I am not dead at this point is beyond me.

4th interaction - Rick Virgin and I laughed earlier in the day that it could be dangerous for the 2 of us to be left unsupervised all weekend and that we could come home with tattoos. I had the idea to get a Rick tattoo - a Sharpie tattoo done by Rick himself! Back to the bar (in between all these interactions, we would go to the lobby, hang out and laugh) for what is probably the best one yet.

"Rick, can you give us a tattoo? Can you write R I on me and C K on my friend?” He laughed again, and said he wasn’t sure how to do that because that’s not how he signs his name. I explained to him that we just wanted the letters so when we stood together we could spell his name. I’m guessing this was a first for him based on his reaction and almost inability to simply write letters from the alphabet, but we all had a good laugh and got a great picture afterwards of our “tattoos!” When I told my husband, he asked if we got the picture of our lower backs (yes, it's a "tramp stamp!") WITH RICK. UGH! No, I didn’t think of that!

Final interaction – Rick Virgin and I were sitting in the lobby enjoying the scene and cracking up about the evening’s events. Rick walked out of the bar and through the lobby right past us. The Rick Virgin and I said, “Good Night, Rick!” He looked at us and smiled. Then he turned back again. Because he THINKS WE’RE CUTE.

Rick Springfield Touched My Butt

More on that in a post coming very soon, but for now, here are some pictures from my fabulous night after his concert in Virginia Beach.

I Can't Bear It

During our trip to Disney World in December, we went to the Hoop-Dee-Doo Musical Revue Dinner Show at Fort Wilderness. If you want an uninterrupted dinner, BRING YOUR CHILD HERE. Monkey Man sat for almost 2 hours and was completely entertained by the singing, dancing, and antics of the Pioneer Hall Players. I've been going to this show since 1978 and I still laugh at the same stupid jokes. That says a lot for me.

This might have been my 9 bajillionth time, but this was Monkey Man's first. He noticed the bear skin on the wall. He noticed the bottom of the bear skin on the wall, the tail. And his observation sparked this remark, said loudly enough for our table of 11 to hear, plus every table that surrounded us:

"Hey, Mommy, that's the bear's penis!"

Monday, September 22, 2008

It's Been 18 Years

Where will I be at this time tomorrow night? Rockin' at the Izod Center at the NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK concert! Funny that a few casual adult conversations through the years with my best friends/fellow New Kids fans that started, "Wouldn't it be so much fun if they reunited and toured! We are definitely going to go to a concert if they ever tour. Do you think they will?" has now become reality. I'm a little overwhelmed. I think I might cry when they hit the stage. If I faint, I am now requesting that Jon Knight give me mouth-to-mouth. Or Rick Springfield, if he happens to be at the concert.

In celebration, I am bringing along some old school treasures. I just came down from my attic where I retrieved 4 extra-large buttons, a banner, and 4 stickers from a Giants Stadium concert in July 1990. I plan to distribute my mementos to my 3 friends, who shall remain nameless because I'm not sure if they are as unashamedly outspoken about their former passion for the New Kids. I, on the other hand, don't care, as you may very well know if you read this blog. I don't care that people know that some part of my brain thinks it's 14. And it has a very good time, thank you very much. That's also the part that doesn't balance the checkbook, unfortunately.

Jon, Jordan, Joey, Danny, and Donnie - You are going to make a bunch of 30-something year-old women very happy tomorrow night. Just please end the concert by about 10:30. I have a kid now. And a job.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

May the Force Pee with You

Monkey Man is ALL ABOUT Star Wars these days, and let me tell you, hubby is dee-lighted. It all started in Disney World last month when hubby took him on Star Tours at Hollywood Studios (formerly MGM, formerly Disney Studios - they need to make up their minds about this park's name). Anyway, I was relieved that hubby finally had a partner for this stomach-turning ride, because my days were done.

Monkey Man came off the ride and was an instant Star Wars fan. And since Disney dumps you off into a store after every ride, hubby just HAD TO buy Monkey Man a set of Star Wars figures, at full Disney cost (read: $10 more than you'll find them anywhere else in the free world).

In addition to figures, we now own 3 light sabers. Just one month after the obsession began, I have 3 of these things in my house. So between light sabers and figures with lasers, Monkey Man enjoys the occasional laser battle. And this is what we heard the other night while Monkey Man stood before the Porcelain Throne before bed:

"Daddy, I'm shooting all the bubbles with my pee pee laser."

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Freedom! Um, I Mean, First Day of Preschool!

Monkey Man officially started preschool today. I say officially because today I had to drop him off at the classroom. Yesterday, the parents were invited to stay. So yesterday, Monkey Man wanted to go to school because, hey, Mom and Dad were there, too! He wanted to meet his teacher! He wanted to see some old friends and meet some new friends! Today, sans Mom and Dad, he wanted none of it.

Today was exactly what I expected, but it still felt like someone was reaching into my body and ripping out my heart. All morning, Monkey Man told me he didn’t want to go to school. “I don’t want to see my teacher. I don’t want to see my friends.” I was cheerful and encouraging, even when I wanted to say, “Listen, buddy, you have like 19 years of this ahead of you, and that’s just through undergrad. Unless, of course, the Major Leagues snatch you up and you set Mommy up in a nice little retirement village in Hawaii.”

As soon as we got in the car, the tears started. On both of us. I didn’t let him see me cry, but I just felt so badly for the kid. I remember that feeling of leaving mommy and wondering, is she really going to come back for me? Is that teacher going to turn into a mean ogre? Are the kids going to be my friends or am I going to play alone? Ugh. So he cried and cried and his teacher came and brought him into the classroom. Door shut. I bawled. They might as well have ripped the child from my womb. That poor pathetic face was peering over his teacher’s shoulder looking at me and I couldn’t do anything about it. I had to follow the rules and just let him go. So I did.

Then I went to Target for 1 HOUR BY MYSELF! I got over it pretty quickly. And apparently so did Monkey Man. Upon my return, he bounded out the door with a smile across his face and showed me a smiley face sticker he got from his teacher. And what did he sing up the stairs on the way out the door? “I love school, I love school.” Me, too, if it means solitary Target trips.

(Photos were taken on the day when parents could come to preschool. That's why he's smiling. On the first "real" day, picture him looking just as handsome only with gigantic tears running down his face.)

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Monkey Man’s Random Thoughts

Heard in the backseat while driving home today from the park:

Monkey Man: “Mommy, why doesn’t Wonder Woman wear pants?”

Me: “Maybe because the economy for Superheroes is just as bad as ours and she can’t afford pants because it costs her $120 a week to fill her tank? Just a guess.”