in which i meet someone famous, and have the picture to prove it

i was going to get a head start on the weekend- had a post on the olympics half-finished yesterday and everything. unfortunately, i got stuck and my shift was over before i could get unstuck.....and now you're getting a mostly non-olympic post instead.

sorry. maybe i can make it up to you later.

yesterday, i had my first backstage experience. SO called me at work friday to tell me he'd been offered a pair of tickets and backstage passes to see bruce springsteen and the e street band in charleston and ask if i was interested. considering that i'd asked him if he wanted to go with me back when i found out the tickets were going on sale, it was pretty much a no brainer.

naturally, i was a little nervous, especially since i'm not exactly known for being able to say intelligent things to celebrities...which is why i've sent bodhi to meet and greets in my place in the past. (yes, i know his website is in sore need of an update. as soon as i remember what i switched his login to during the blogger/google transtition, we'll work on getting things updated.)

so, given that bodhi has far more experience in these sorts of situations, i smuggled him into the venue, along with my camera. (SO didn't mind the camera, but i think he was maybe a wee bit embarrassed about the gnome's presence. i think he was worried his coworkers (whom i'd never met before) might think he was dating a 12 year old. i'm sure there's nothing like wondering whether your coworkers are whispering "pedophile" behind your back.)*

anyway, as you can see (sort of), here we are with "little" steven van zandt:


(bodhi is convinced the blurriness is because the photographer was quaking with excitement upon finally meeting his 4" tall idol.)

i can also present you with this much clearer photo of steven's shoulder:


(unfortunately, bodhi was making a second pass at the buffet at this time (there was gouda- who could resist that?) and the moment passed before he made it back to me.)

mark bryan, of hootie & the blowfish, was also in the backstage crowd, and i thought about trying to get a picture of him with bodhi, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor and we headed up to our seats instead.

here was the view from section 109, row g:


this was during one of their better lit moments (during "born to run", or was it "dancing in the dark"? i didn't take many notes, as i was trying to conserve my battery so i could get olympic results from my sibling). most of the other pictures i took are a little...well....blurry.

i think we got up to our seats around 7:30, and the band took the stage about half an hour later, after the crowd got prematurely excited over house lighting coming up (which would be the reverse of what usually happens, but what can i say? the beer lines were long but moved quickly**) and roadies emerging with beverages in between tuning instruments.

preconcert, the head honcho from my clear channel cluster joined the charleston group for a few moments, during which he professed his admiration for the boss and showed off a couple of signs he'd made in his hotel room. previously unbeknownst to me, it is customary for fans, especially those in the pit, to make signs referring to springsteen tunes. springsteen will stand on platforms that jut out into the pit, and pick signs out of the crowd......and some of those songs get added to the evening's playlight. i will have to keep this in mind, because "pink cadillac" was nowhere to be heard last night, and while i can't draw a cadillac, i can draw a vw-ish bug, and the make a reference to cadillacs somehow.

i also learned last night that lil jon was not the originator of "YEA-AH!". i'm fairly certain clarence clemons got there first. furthermore, i think if challenged, clemons could take jon in a fight. he may be in his 60s, but the dude is big. i mean, really big. nils lofgren was hard to photograph last night, mostly because clarence clemons' shadow covered him completely. i've come to the conclusion that either lofgren is a gnome, or else clemons is a giant.

oh- and just in case you were wondering, my sibling is not a springsteen fan. found that out during the encores, as she was texting me with olympic updates. (i was finally able to see both dara torres and michael phelps swim friday night, and was curious to see whether she'd actually get and individual medal despite being "ancient" (when did 41 become old?) and if he'd manage to pull off gold medal #8 in beijing. (in case you've been under a rock, the answer to both questions is "yes".)) in between races, i got the distinct impression that she felt springsteen was overrated...perhaps because, in one of the messages, she wrote, "springsteen is overrated".

as is often the case with siblings and their opinions, i disagree.

*on a semirelated note, i admit i was somewhat checking out one of his coworkers, who, come to find out, is only nineteen. i inquired as to whether he was into older chicks, but SO declined to answer for some reason.

**since the age range of the crowd spanned multiple generations, witnessing someone's grandpa taking out a hip whilst flying down the stairs was also a minor concern. perhaps there should be an upper age limit on frosty beverages at these sorts of events- for safety's sake.

newsflash: exercise may be fatal...oh- and the new kids are back

things i should probably be embarrassed to admit:

1. even at the tender age of thirty, i still eat all of my spaghetti o's first, and the meatballs or franks last- and preferably with my official spaghetti o's spoon.

2. i sleep with a fleece cookie monster blanket.

3. i have seriously contemplated going to see the new kids on the block when they come to a town near me. (perhaps this is partially because i still feel a little bit empty 16 years after they played in baltimore on my birthday...and i didn't get to go, because we moved to kansas city one week prior.)

3a. i still have both my jordan knight and pepsi magic summer t shirts, and i'm only mildly afraid to wear them.

i seem to be stuck on "summertime" by the new kids, (now short for "(not so) new(ly fully grown men with) kids"), and there's no end in sight. thankfully, it's in rotation in my mental jukebox with kid rock's latest and a rather infectious little tune by (stay with me here) miley cyrus' half-brother's band. (i'm sure he really digs being known as his little sister's brother... but the chances of trace cyrus stumbling upon my blog are- let's face it- slim. i'll apologize if necessary later.)

it's the sort of song that makes me want to hop on the treadmill, which may be a necessity now that i'm thirty and apparently since i'm not married (which the spammers have figured out, given that i now get daily junk mail with the subject line "over 30 and single? better click this link to find out what sort of men you can still attract...unless you're too busy picking up your first ten cats at the animal shelter, that is....."*) i should hurry up and get into shape so that when things start to droop (like my kneecaps) they won't go far. i mean, who wants a chick with droopy kneecaps? i like older men and all, but i don't want to raid retirement homes for a potential suitor who's too blind/senile to notice that i'm no longer the hot babe i was at 29....less than a month ago.

so, to the treadmill i shall go...or should, except for today's little news tidbit. it seems that hopping on the treadmill may be fatal....and that's not even taking into account the fact that i am a natural klutz and therefore am even more susceptible to a treadmill mishap than most.

perhaps my energies would be better spent rooting around in my closet, trying to locate some appropriately ripped jeans to go with that magic summer t shirt.....

*i'll admit it. perhaps i'm embellishing a little bit...but not by much.

back from the great, not-as-white-as-you-might-expect north

i've been back from the big birthday trip for almost two whole days now, and i still haven't quite adjusted to this whole "getting dark at 9pm" thing. i mean, the sun didn't actualy set on my birthday until i got back to south carolina on friday. (yet, even with the two extra days, i still haven't compiled a new list yet....perhaps it's because i'm now old, and therefore, in the early stages of alzheimer's.)

you know, if you'd asked me last year to predict how i'd spend my 30th birthday, i don't think i would have come up with an accurate prediction, in any respect. the most surreal part of it is that, of all of the elements making up my surroundings on the happy (?) occassion, i think the part about it being in the sticks of alaska may have been the easiest to predict, and that's a stretch, as it is.

it's kind of like if i'd been asked five years ago if the lead singer of hootie and the blowfish and jessica simpson would ever put out country albums. if the new kids on the block would ever reunite. (should i be ashamed to admit that i've spent most of the day humming "summer time"?) if lindsay lohan would decide to play for the other team. (interestingly enough, my male friends harboring crushes on lindsay seem to be nothing if not more interested in her, in light of the new situation. go figure. )

but i digress....and before that, i think i was getting ahead of myself.

i thought about making this my usual photo-happy post-trip post, but will attempt to use a modicum of restraint. however, my slacking off at work this morning involved focusing on resizing pictures for galleries, which you can find on both my myspace and facebook pages, as well as my msn space (and possibly even by the end of the day, though i don't know that i'd go so far as to put money down on it.)

thursday, 10 july 2008:

two hour delay leaving columbia. seven hours of quality time spent at the chicago o'hare airport. on the bright side, by the time i left, i was at least one book closer to reaching my goal of 50 read since my last birthday, finally making it through dave eggers' and you shall know our velocity! hiking buddies (who made the whole trip possible, might i add) picked me up at the portland airport. they seem relieved that my birthday hadn't actually passed while i was stuck at o'hare*.

friday, 11 july 2008:

multnomah falls, oregon- the second highest year-round waterfall in north america, at over 600'

saturday, 12 july 2008:

mama's birthday. as usual, sibling beat me to the punch on this one, though it's only because of the time difference. i wasn't devoted enough to the cause to set an alarm for 3:00 am just so i could be first. consolation came in the form of a short pilgrimage to haystack rock with kate:



and, later, the 102 year old wreck of the peter iredale at ft. stevens state park:



we ran out of time to visit mt. st. helens national monument, but made it to seattle in time to wander around a little before grabbing sushi, followed by mojitos at a nearby restaurant with the crankiest, most sullen waitress i've ever encountered. (i'm not naming names, because when we complained to the manager about her sevice, or lack thereof, it seemed like it wasn't anything the manager hadn't heard before. i would not be surprised to learn that she lost her job there and is now supporting herself running some sort of dominatrix/phone sex line. i hear some masochists dig neglect.)

sunday, 13 july 2008:

ah, seattle. i liked it better than i thought i would, though i still think nirvana was overrated. the city made me wish i'd watched singles again right before my trip, just so i'd have a little more familiarity with my surroundings. then again, i just realized that if that movie were a child, it'd be driving now. that's a little unsettling.

in the event you find yourself wandering around seattle, definitely check out the underground tour. (that's the officia link, complete with info about the underworld tour which, sadly, i didn't get to embark upon, due to bad timing.)

post tour, karen and i split up, and she reunited with kate for lunch, while i grabbed a pound of rainier cherries at pike place market (for less than the cost of a gallon of gas!) and sat down in the park to scrible out a few postcards. after a while, kate and karen found me, and kate and i carried the dinner ingredients back to our hotel** before embarking on our cruise around the bay.



dinner was tasty, though a little awkward, as our hotel allows guests to adopt beta fish during their stay. (the proceeds go to charity)as a result, we adopted gus (i believe his real name was frank), who was moved temporarily while kate cooked our salmon dinner. it was similarly awkward the previous night, when we inquired at the desk about good sushi restaurants. if gus/frank had ears, i sincerely hope he was too busy listening to himself blowing bubbles in his tank (i swear he was the most flatulent beta fish i've ever met.) to hear us discussing his distant cousins.

monday, 14 july 2008:

though the hills in seattle are pretty steep, i was itching to do a little hiking, so off to mt. rainier national park we went.

our hike to nisqually glacier seemed like a good idea on paper. i mean, it was supposed to be about a mile and a half round trip, and i was sure to get some good pictures. however, as you can see, there's a small problem of snow all over the place, even in the middle of july. since we were in tennis shoes, we decided it would be wise to abort our mission and try hiking a little further down the mountain, where there wasn't nearly so much of the white stuff.***


narada falls, also in mt. rainier national park. we attempted to hike to reflection lake from here, but had to abandon the hike when we lost the trail in the- you guessed it- snow.

tuesday, 15 july 2008:

after arriving at the hostel late monday night and nearly creaming a naked foreign chick with the bedroom door (i've already been informed that i was remiss in not taking any pictures), i stumbled out of bed early to shower and head to the train station for the ride to denali national park. wound up joined in the bathroom by a second naked foreign chick. (again, i've been instructed as to exactly how one should discreetly snap photos on one's camera phone while pretending to check the time or some such thing. too bad my phone makes a little camera noise.)



i met a guy on the train, josh, who had run away from louisiana to find himself in the alaskan wilderness. he was kind enough to take this one for me before we stashed our stuff in lockers and embarked upon a short hike:



there are relatively few established trails in the park (wandering is encouraged in the wilderness, because it keeps the tundra from getting trampled to death), and josh and i headed down the trail to horseshoe lake. here's the view of the lake from one of the smaller side trails:



and, for those readers who were disappointed about the lack of naked foreign chick photos, here's a gratuitous beaver shot:



wednesday, 16 july 2008:

after shelling out about $30 for the bus to eilson visitor center, i bid josh adieu, grabbed some snacks and a sobe (cranberry grapefruit- my favorite) and settled into my seat on the bus. i took a pretty obscene number of pictures during the 132 mile round trip, so you can appreciate my restraint here:



polychrome overlook. an article on this in a recent issue of national geographic adventure played a big role in my decision to visit denali.


another shot from polychrome overlook. this high-quality photo was taken by another tourist, whose wife so charmingly called out "tell her to take a picture of us" as this was being snapped. it made me miss being around people with manners.


while this wasn't actually my first view of mt. mckinley (or "denali", as it's also called), this was probably the best. the clouds rolled in at the summit between the time i took this and my arrival at the visitor center, which is about 30 miles from the mountain.


mt. brooks (possibly my new favorite mountain because i think it looks so cool)is on the left, and mt. mckinley is somewhere behind the clouds toward the middle/right.

after hiking around at the visitor center (and, of course, photographing the gnomes and visiting the passport stamping station) for about an hour, i hopped back on the bus for the ride back to the wilderness access center. with time to kill before the hostel shuttle was due to arrive, i went looking for the beavers at horseshoe lake again. however, something stood in my way. (that's the very short explanation. i need to save something for the award winning autobiography, of course):


the text message i sent right after being "rescued" by three people and their two dogs said (and i quote, since i saved it):

i just spent 10 minutes trapped by moose. can't say that's ever happened before.

needless to say, i was called back immediately.

i won't bore you with the details of my trip back from denali, except to say that

1. there are not words that can adequately express how much i hate chicago o'hare.

2. i still don't have any pictures of naked foreign chicks to post from my last night at the hostel in anchorage....probably because i was in bed, working on my 50th book before they got home.

which leaves, as i alluded to earlier, ringing in my birthday. perhaps this will give you some idea:


that's three legged mule, an alaskan bluegrass band. they were playing a show at panorama pizza pub, which was across the street from my hostel. you'll note their attire- somewhat piratey, right? that would be because the pizza pub was having its third annual pirate night/homemade boat floatilla.

so, putting it all together, i turned 30 in a pizza pub in the sticks of alaska, while listening to a bluegrass band (featuring an accordian, of all things!), surrounded by pirates carrying around homemade boats, which they launched at 12:30am, while it was still somewhat light outside.

like i said- i never would have predicted it.....and i have 362 days to figure out how i'm going to top it next year.

*go ahead and add o'hare to my proposed list of dante's rigs of hell (modern edition) it is easily the worst airport i have ever been in, and since i've done my fair share of travel through the atlanta and philly airports, that's saying a lot.

**i know karen and kate will be looking for it, so i should add that when we checked in, we were told that while we weren't getting an upgrade, we would be staying on the seventh floor which, as the desk employee was kind enough to point out, "is one of our highest, if not our highest floors". as you might have guessed, this was a running joke for the remainder of our trip. i forgot to mention it to kate and karen when i texted/called from alaska, but at both of the hostels, i had beds on the top bunks, which i suppose, were "one of the highest, if not the highest". *snickering*

***cue the new kids on the block. or, more precisely, weird al's parody, entitled "the white stuff"

in which i practically dare you to make snide "mosquito bites" comments

it has recently come to my attention that i'm overdue for a post again.

(not that anyone actually pointed it out, mind you. i found myself looking for stuff to do instead of doing the stuff i need to do, and somewhere between virtual sightseeing in alaska and obsessively checking my msn messenger to see if it was still working (consider it the modern day version of picking the phone up every half hour while expecting a call....you know- just to make sure everything's working properly), i realized that i had yet to replace my post about my hot date with mr. clean with something a little less...well....lame.)

i would be remiss if i didn't acknowledge the passing of george carlin earlier this week. unlike my sibling, i was actually fortunate enough to see him perform live- twice. he came to my college back in 1997 (or was it '98?) on one tour (i took mama), and i saw him again a few years ago, when he came through columbia on another college tour. SO and i talked about trying to catch him in vegas at some point, but i'm afraid we missed his last show.

of all of his bits, probably his most famous was the "seven words you can't say on television". i've come to the conclusion that they're a lot like the seven dwarves- everyone can remember some of them, but very few people can rattle all of them off on command (and not just because they're out of quarters to put into the "swear can").

for the record, i always seem to try and substitute some version of "@!&*" (either by itself, or as half a word) in place of the one carlin dwelled on the longest. one might wonder if i'd have such a problem were i hauling around double-ds. however, i'm fairly certain were that the case, i'd have more of a problem not walking like the hunchback of notre dame.

and on that note, it's been at least twenty minutes since i checked both the mosquito forecast for denali national park and whether or not my computer's signed me out of messenger without my knowledge.....

oooohhh....shiny

i'm thinking that most cute, semi-single girls my age don't spend their friday nights getting excited over how well imaginary bald men with earrings clean their bathtubs, but hey- it could just be me.

disclaimer, in case SO stops by: no, i don't consider myself "single", but after three weeks without a visit, i doubt i'll recognize you the next time you walk through the door. this could work in your benefit, because suddenly, you could be my brand new boyfriend and the weekend could hark back to that "honeymoon phase" rather than me wanting to drop-kick you for spending all of your time on the couch, watching sports and eating snacks.

ahem. anyway.

so far this evening, i've scrubbed out my tub, given the drip pans under the stove burners their first bath in at least five years, attacked the walls with a generic mr. clean magic eraser, and bludgeoned to death a giant cockroach - sorry- palmetto bug with an empty can of raid. (as you may have assumed, i found out the can was empty right before the bludgeoning. it seemed like the thing to do at the time.)

yeah, i thought i was a loser back in high school, when i either spent friday night at work, at home, or cruising for guys who, really, were far less attractive in hindsight. yet, even then, i never thought i'd one day spend my friday night with mr. clean and a dead roach.

so, who's willing to take me out next friday night?

over the...uh...dry creekbed and through the woods....

after work today, i gave in to the urge. since my hiking buddy moved 2 1/2 hours away, hot dog the gnomad was happy to accompany me on my 6.6 mile trek. here are some views from along the oakridge trail:



i think i managed to tick off every spider along the trail, except for this one. thankfully, i'm short, and he'd constructed his web higher than most of the others.



there's nothing quite like stopping to take in the view....of mosquito breeding grounds. despite being covered pretty much head to toe in bug spray, i did not come away completely unscathed.

plan b: find sugar daddy

they claim you can get rich by working at home. today was my first official day "working from home", and not only am i not rich yet, but i didn't exactly accomplish a whole lot, either.

when the bosses announced they were moving 2 1/2 hours south, i freaked out. i mean, this latest development, combined with SO moving out just over 6 months ago (which basically doubled my expenses), led to a slight sense of financial insecurity. was i going to have to get one of those "grown-up" jobs, where you have to wear uncomfortable clothing in an effort to look "professional"? and this baloney about only getting two weeks' vacation each year? would i have to finally memorize the rules of french conjugation, just so i could emigrate and take advantage of the stronger euro and the seven weeks of vacation time?

thankfully, i was spared all of this potential unpleasantness, because our billing office is swamped with projects, and the bosses were informed by the billing manager that if they didn't get her some help, things would get very ugly very quickly. unfortunately, the billing office is only open mondays through wednesdays, which means that i've gone from around 50 hours/week (much to our CFO's chagrin) to around 27 hours/week.......which pays part of my rent, if i'm extremely lucky.

it was decided that maybe i could work from home the other two days/week....hopefully enough to get me up to at least 40 hours/week.

so, anyway, since i spent yesterday doing some freelance work for yet another boss (i'm up to almost half a dozen by now, technically), today was my first official day "working from home".

the good news: i got a lot accomplished.

the not-so-good news: the list consists mostly of laundry (3 loads!), dishes (1 load), vacuuming, changing sheets, dusting, scrubbing walls with the mr. clean magic eraser, running to the post office, and compiling yet another box of donations for goodwill.

as you may have noticed, none of that sounds particularly businesslike.

total time spent doing actual business-related tasks: 3 hours (including stuff for the freelance gig)

total time spent cleaning, straightening, errand-running, and wondering if it was too hot outside to go wander around my local national park: 8 hours

i'm hoping to be a little more productive next week. otherwise, i might have to look into finding a way to multitask- work at home while scrubbing out the shower (which is on my "to do" list) and trying to master the art of making tabouleh.

waving the white apron

profound realization for the week:

on wkrp, loni anderson probably looked perky all the time because even when it was 100 degrees outside, the radio station was kept at a brisk 50-something degrees.

i kid you not. highs in the low 100s were forecast all weekend, and here i sat, in my cargo pants, t-shirt, and light jacket. someone pointed out yesterday that this building has three different climates, and i don't doubt it. the studio side of the building isn't too bad- somewhere in the 70s, i'd guess. however, when heading to the bathroom, one can't help but wonder if someone left the freezer next door wide open. had i not packed the bosses' space heater last week, i'd contemplate smuggling it into the building, to make those retreats to "my private office" a little less jarring.

anyway, you don't want to read about my struggle to stay warm, yet not look like a total dork when i walk across the parking lot while wearing a jacket on a 100-degree afternoon.

you want to read about something far more exciting:

parsley

woo-hoo! this is what my life has come to- getting excited about garnishes!

i'm kidding. sort of.

one of the goals on the list of "30 things to do before i turn 30" is to master three new recipes. so far, i have gotten crepes under control....which, of course leaves two recipes to go...in the next five or so weeks.

note that i said "still leaves", not "left".

to make a long story short, let me share with you a sample of the email i just sent the master of taboule:

tried to make taboule like yours.

failed.

now, i won't say i failed miserably, as the end product is vaguely edible, but i'm not whipping up a batch for visiting dignitaries anytime soon.

so, rather than potentially embarrass myself by telling you exactly what i did, let me know if i missed anything...

while we're at it, what's the approximate parsley/tomato ratio? i'm pretty sure the breath-freshening power of my trial-run taboule is strong enough to combat that salsa at moe's that's impervious to toothpaste, mouthwash, and a dozen altoids.

i left out the part about the blender....and the debate over how clean a floor has to be before the "five second rule" can be called into play, but i'm pretty sure my email gave enough detail to adequately express my distress.

sort of like loni anderson's boobs and the temperature inside the wkrp building.

(ok, maybe not quite, but i'm sure at least one of my male readers appreciates the visual.)