Is anyone really surprised that these are on clearance?

I didn’t think so.

Saturday I went out with a bunch of friends to see The Spazmatics at Liquid Joe’s.

Never been to Liquid Joe’s before. And this is Utah, remember? So I am always leery of new places. Bar/club type places. Don’t ask me why.

Ok, go ahead and ask.

I guess I just feel that bars/clubs in mormon country are an incompatibility. So far, I’ve been proven wrong.

But, there’s always that chance. That one chance that the next bar/club will prove me right.

And you don’t blame me, right? That’s what I thought.

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Since The Spazmatics play 80′s & 90′s music, one of the girls had an idea of dressing 80′s style. I was stoked. THEME NIGHT. I know a lot of the crap amazingly awesome clothes we wore back then are totally coming back in style. What better reason to go shopping? So I decide on skinny jeans, slouch boots, and bangles. LOTS. OF. BANGLES. I represented the 80′s well without being, um, like, ohmahGAWD! Gag me with a spoon!

The band was A-MA-ZING. They played THE BEST songs. They played Goody Two Shoes and I nearly jumped on stage. And when they played Rebel Yell? I demonstrated my expert headbanging skillz. Trust me, I’m a pro. You would have been absolutely mortified totally impressed had you been there.

It was so funny how easily I fell back into the 80′s dancing style. The music just moved me. Back a couple decades apparently.

The band took a break from the 80′s to play Alice in Chains’ Man in the Box. And they were TEARIN. IT. UP. Until about halfway through the song when they dead stopped, said that was enough, and launched back into 80′s music again. FUCKERS.

Wha? I like that song!

But what forever sealed the band’s place in my heart was when they played my husband’s most famous song, Jessie’s Girl. Which also nearly got me banned from the bar, bcuz OBVIOUSLY. Bitch, don’t you be talkin about him like that or I will totally stab you. He’s my motherfucking husband! (Ok, so he’s my fantasy husband, but she didn’t know that.)

**********

Towards the end of the show, my hips were starting to hurt. I didn’t worry about it too much. We were all still havin so much fun. When it was time to go, though, I had trouble bending my leg to get in the car. I wish I could I say I was kidding. I finally managed to swing my straight leg into the car and then wiggle my ass to get it into the seat. Whew!

By the time I got home, I could barely get out of the car and walk to the front door.

When the hell did I get to be so old?

I quickly brushed my teeth, cuz it hurt to even do THAT. WTF? Actually, I think that was from going to the batting cages on Friday bcuz I needed to… umm… hit some balls.

Note: The girl at the batting cages counter looked at me really strangely when I asked if I was allowed to paste pictures to the balls that were going to my machine. Wha? I think having that as an option would boost business. STOP JUDGING ME.

Anyway…

I decided that raccoon eyes would be completely acceptable in the morning, since it would only be me and the cat. And she’s mentioned that she likes it when I have raccoon eyes. This would be the same cat that likes to try to lick my moisturizer off my face. Yeah, I don’t get it either. But whatever.

So I crawled into bed (after briefly considered flinging myself on the bed to keep from having to bend my legs) and passed out. Sorta. It was more like Ahhhhhh…ow…OW…OWIE!

Did I mention that I was stone cold sober?

Apparently, if I don’t drink? I’m in pain. So not fair.

I am in my last week of work. Four more days until I am officially laid off. Is it bad to say that I already wish it was over?

I received my separation packet last Friday. I was totally fine while the HR rep went over the agreement. That was until he thanked me for my professionalism regarding the lay off. Which made me start thinking, “Well HELL how am I supposed to act it’s not like I didn’t know this was coming for a YEAR NOW and can we just get this over with, cuz I don’t wanna have to think about this right now I have to go deal with my daughter’s first weekend visitation with her father and I HAVE to be home right now and OMG I’m gonna be without a job and divorced and what the FUCK am I gonna do I’ll be an outta work divorcee student with a daughter at home who will be hitting puberty soon enough and I’M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW BUT I REFUSE TO LET YOU SEE ME CRY MOTHERFUCKER!”

Yeah, he really doesn’t have a clue how close he came to being stabbed right then. Prolly for the best.

**********

It’s been a week since I made the husband move out. How am I doing? Well, I’m handling it. That’s all I can do right now. Take each day as it comes, knowing that some days will be better than others. School will keep me busy, especially starting next week when I won’t be going to work anymore. And I have a long to do list that I plan to make a huge dent in. Finally.

I’m staying strong for my daughter. Even though she is dealing with it fairly well so far, I know this is hard for her. She was understandably upset when her father moved out. And she was sad after her first visitation with him bcuz she felt she didn’t get to spend enough time with him. I completely understand that. I tell her that it’s okay for her to feel sad, angry, etc. about the situation. I tell her that none of this is her fault and that her father and I love her VERY MUCH. I tell her that I’m here for her to talk to about anything. Anytime.

I am amazed with the changes in me I have already seen. The past two years I was hiding more and more at home. Hiding from the tension. Hiding from being hurt. Hiding from him. And I was losing myself in the process. I feel I am coming back now, though, and it feels really good. I know I will stumble occasionally, but I am definitely moving forward. Forward is good.

**********

Friday was the Elton John/Billy Joel concert at the Energy Solutions Arena (which I don’t care what you say, it will ALWAYS be the Delta Center to me). The concert was originally scheduled in November, but had to be postponed bcuz of illness (Damn old men, WTH? Never mind we partied it up big time anyway WITHOUT YOU. So there!).

The show? Well, it was AWESOME!!!!!

We started out in nosebleed seats. They were totally fine cuz the sound was great and they had a screen set up above them so you could see a little better on that when they showed them. But then, Sarah’s dad got us down on the floor. YAY SARAH’S DAD! Y’all are jealous now. I know. Billy played one of my favs of his songs, Allentown, and the two of them played one of my fav Elton songs, The Bitch is Back (which means more than they will ever know right now ). Michelle and I sang pretty much all the songs (loudly of course) and it was a blast. And I will never forget Billy Joel talking about how he always wanted to “mess up” Marie Osmond when he once used the Osmond studio for rehearsals. And if you’re thinking oh no he di’int? Oh yes he did. LOL

I haven’t gone through all the pictures yet, but here’s one of Billy and Elton together on the screen.

Did I mention that the concert was just plain AWESOME? Yeah, well, it’s worth repeating. Trust me.

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So. I’ve been hit with a lot of spam comments on my blog for almost a week now. I know I’ll never come close to dooce or The Bloggess, but does this mean I’m getting closer to being in the big leagues?

No? Oh, ok. I’ll keep working on it then. j/k

A week after my birthday, I had a local bash at Keys on Main to celebrate with my friends here in Utah. Can I just say I love that place? No, really. I. LOVE. THAT. PLACE.

Yes, I hear that group of you in the back going, “Wh-WHAT? What happened to the cruise? WE WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE CRUISE!” I am writing it, I promise. But there is a lot to write about (I don’t wanna leave out anything) and it will prolly be in stages. So for now, bear with me. This story’s good too.

Six of the friends I invited came (Jenn, Michelle, and Sarah aka the girls; plus Roxanne, Gina, and Juan). And some of them brought friends (Cat, Katie, Jenna, and Mark). Some I knew. Some I didn’t. Long ago, that would have freaked me out. Ask anyone that knew me in the ’80′s (and even part of the ’90′s EGAD!). I. Was. Shy. If I didn’t know you, I kept to myself, which might have come across as me being a snobby bitch.  But, I’m a much more social person than I used to be. Now, you’ll KNOW that I’m a snobby bitch cuz I’m totally open about it. Just kidding. Life’s too short for me to be a snobby bitch and I never know who I might meet on any given day.

But I digress.

Gina’s goal for the night was to get me fucked up. I dare say she managed to achieve that goal long before the night was over. Oh my. I KNOW. I am SUCH a lush! I do remember having:

• a shot of Patron
• a Blue Moon
• 3 AMF’s
• a Jager Bomb (Michelle said I better not puke after I drank that. I didn’t. Think I’m finally getting this whole drinking thing down. WOOT!)
• Sips of other drinks (I think EVERYONE had jumped on the fuck Stacey up bandwagon by then. And I had the hangover the next day to prove it.)

The girls SWEAR that I had 5 AMF’s. FIVE. They said they counted how many I actually had, but I think they’re just trying to boost the ego of my inner alcoholic. Gotta love those girls. THEY ROCK!

Note: The last time I had a shit load of AMF’s, I couldn’t walk OR talk afterward. It may have something to do with the Sake Bombs we did beforehand, though. Maybe. And after all that, I didn’t pass out and I didn’t puke. YAY ME!

The girls decided to get me in the limelight early. Kendrick told me to get my ass on stage RIGHT NOW. Well, okay then. I went up there with my blinking tiara and boa (a present from the girls that I wore pretty much all night, when it wasn’t falling off my head. No I wasn’t drinking, I swear!) Kendrick told me (along with the rest of the bar thankyouverymuch!) that I didn’t look 40 and to get on the piano. Hmmm. Lemme think this through. I’ve been drinking. I’m in heels. And I’m supposed to hump my ass on top of a piano? Yeah, I’m kinda thinkin…NO. So I commented that I really shouldn’t get up there cuz it would NOT BE PRETTY. And of course Kendrick responded that he doubted that. That’s when I KNEW he was trying to get in my pants. So we were good. And then he serenaded me with “You’ve got the 60 and I’ve got the 9.” And I’m thinking, not only is this piano player HAWT, but he’s trying to get in my pants, AND he’s a MINDREADER? Yeah, I’m screwed.

Did I ever mention that I can get a little slutty when I drink? No? Well, then just forget that I EVER MENTIONED IT.

When the piano players rotated, we got Jordan closest to us. What a character! I’ve got lots of entertaining pics of him (including one where he was showing me his ass. For the camera. On purpose. THAT’S MY KIND OF MAN! WOOT!)

Oh! I totally forgot about the cones! I GOTTA talk about the cones! The gals that I took the cruise with decorated our cabin (think BLACK) and brought these orange cones to decorate the table on my birthday. The cones were forgotten that night, cuz we were too busy remembering our make-out session with the dolphins earlier in the day. But that’s for another post. Be patient.

The cones say “40-YEAR OLD SENIOR MOMENT”. And they are hilarious. I just couldn’t let them go to waste, so they tagged along for the ride. And became props throughout the night as the group became more and more trashed (think Madonna & you might get an idea of what I mean). I really am thinking of having them bronzed. If anyone can tell me where I can get that done, I will buy you booze. Hey, I figure I’m not the only one who can be bribed. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just THAT easy.

There were lots of pics taken that night. Most of them I totally remember taking or having taken. And then there are the others… There are pics where Juan is wearing my tiara and boa, but I have NO MEMORY OF IT HAPPENING. None. I can remember the cone ‘props’, but I can’t remember THAT? That might mean something. Which might explain A LOT.

The pics Sarah took are WAY better than mine. That’s because I am still learning my new camera was too drunk to do anything more than sing very loudly off key just plain suck at taking pics of anything but boobs and lap dances. And even then I STILL suck cuz I’m too busy ENJOYING said boobs and lap dances to take a decent picture.

*sigh*

The six of us that stayed to the end of the night are below (I’m the one in the tiara. I know you weren’t sure, so I thought I’d help you out a bit. Cuz I’m ALL about helping others.). What a fun group! If you look in the middle, you can even see the cones, which should prolly go down in history. Cuz they are just The Awesome. Or maybe they should just be burned.

Thanks everyone! I had the most amazing time. We need to do this again VERY soon.

Tomorrow works for me.

I totally have dain bramage, but it’s not from playing foot-bawl without my hehmet and my showdah-mah-pads.

Thanks Tanya for this blast from the past.

And here’s where I let on to just how old I might be…..

I absolutely heart me some ’80s music. Love it. In fact, if I’m in need of something to help keep me motivated on a task, you will either find me listening to music from the ’80s or disco. No…that is NOT a typo. (Remember that age thing I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Well…there you go.)

Sidenote: As far as I’m concerned, disco will NEVER be dead. You can’t shake your ass to anything else like you can to disco. And don’t think I don’t know that you do it too. In your home. When nobody’s watching (at least so you think). You put on Donna Summer’s Last Dance and boogie down. Until you hear someone nearby and you run to switch it to Metallica and start headbanging. Cuz that’ll totally throw them off the trail of what you were REALLY doing in there. You can admit it now. We all know. DON’T WE.

My most recent ’80s flashback had me searching for the video to Olivia Newton-John’s Physical. I found what I was looking for and much more. I got two flashbacks for the price of one. (Then again since it didn’t cost me anything, it was actually two flashbacks for the price of none. But I digress yet again.)

Remember Solid Gold? (Cue the “ooooo”s and “ahhhh”s here.)

That weekly music countdown show that was only just a small step up from American Bandstand. Where lip synching songs was the ONLY option and was paired with a bunch of HAWT dancers in spandex (Spandex? In the ’80s? NAH!). I vaguely seem to remember having a HUGE crush on one of the male dancers. Couldn’t tell you which one, though.

That’s just some awesome shit right there. She never made a mistake. Her performance was flawless. She never had to take a break in the middle of the song bcuz she was out of breath from her dancing workout (or those steamy hunks dancing with her *fanning self*). And I have absolutely NO idea how my simple little ’80s song flashback morphed into poking fun at Solid Gold. I loved that show growing up.

Well, I just finished my homework, so let’s see if I can downshift and talk about this weekend. I know there are some curious minds out there. Now, it’s entirely possible that this will make sense to no one else but me. And I will not be in the least offended if you run screaming from this post. LOL

Last Friday is the Rick Springfield concert in Wendover. The show starts at 8pm and the trip takes 2 hrs from our house(especially going down Bangerter). I plan to leave home around 5 pm to allow time for motel check-in and maybe food (big maybe). The husband leaves work at Noon to take our daughter to stay with his mother. Even with travel time, he has plenty of time to get ready. I leave work at 4pm, like I planned, cuz I can’t take the day off or leave much earlier than that. I plan to dress casual, cuz it’s not Vegas people. It’s just Wendover. But I want to fix my hair and makeup a little, though. Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn’t already have my hair and makeup done for work. And I still need to pack a few things. I get home to find the husband dressing up. And I’m all, “You don’t need to dress up. I’m not.” He says he wants to dress a little nicer. Fine. Whatever. I pack my stuff in the suitcase and all that’s left is to change my top and fix my hair/makeup. Husband says he thought about going to the bank, but didn’t actually do it cuz we can stop by on the way out of town. That makes no sense to me since he left work more than 4 hours ago, but fine. Whatever. He then remarks that he didn’t realize this was a dress rehearsal. And I’m all, “Dress rehearsal? WTH is that supposed to mean?” And he says nevermind, which of course pisses me off. So when he does finally answer me, it’s a derogatory remark about me wanting to make myself look a little nicer. And I’m all, WTF? You’re dressing up and you can’t understand why I wanna do my hair and put on some makeup? You left work when? And you couldn’t bother to stop by the bank to save us some time? Seriously? Ok, so that was all in my head, but still. I was pissed. So I go into the bathroom (slamming the door for the desired effect) and realize that there’s no time to do my hair or makeup. That’s just great. Thankyouverymuch. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and come out of the bathroom to start throwing my last few things together. Maybe I’ll have some time once we get there to put some makeup on. I tell the husband that I’m upset about not doing anything wrong, but yet being made to feel really small for needing to do a few things. The husband then decides to tell me to go by myself and to have a good time. I NEED to have a good time by myself, he says. And I’m all, “Absolutely not! I’m not going to give you an opportunity to throw it back in my face later that I was a bitch who kept you from going to this concert! You’re going!” I may not speak to you for the entire trip, but you are FUCKING GOING! Ok, so that last part was an exaggeration. I grab everything except his CPAP and stomp down the stairs. The husband is behind me mumbling how I’m stubborn for not letting him carry anything. And I’m thinking, Dood, you just need to shut the hell up and get in the damn car before I change my mind! I throw everything in the car. And realize I’m starving. I know I won’t be eating before the show and I WILL be drinking. A LOT. That’s a given at this point. So I search the pantry for something to eat and the husband asks if I want yogurt. And I’m all, “Yogurt? And exactly how am I supposed to eat that?” He says with a spoon. And I’m all, “Seriously? While I’m driving?” Cuz I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let YOU drive! We get on the road and he doesn’t say a word. Not one. For like 30 minutes. And I’m thinking, Dood, you are SO not helping your case. He finally apologizes, and for once it actually sounded sincere (Long story. Really REALLY long story.). And he offers to drive so I can get ready. No way I’m letting him drive when we’re in a time crunch. HELL no. So we settle into a slightly less awkward silence for a while, which is just fine by me.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until the last 30 miles or so, which is where we encounter a bunch of drivers that are freakin’ STOOPID. They have no idea of how to drive on a two-lane highway (hint: YOU DON’T CAMP YOUR ASS IN THE LEFT LANE! I’m just sayin.). My tolerance on the road is…oohh…zero. Zilch. Nada. Especially now. So, to get away from them, I end up doing 100 the rest of the way to Wendover. The husband looks over at one point, and I’m all, “Yes, I AM doing a hundred!” Just stay on your side of the car. You’re still on my shitlist! Ok, so I only really said that first part. But the rest was on the tip of my tongue, I promise you.

Capping off the night? The motel. I have a reservation, but there’s a delay checking in. The desk clerk goes to get someone’s help. Oh shit. This other person comes out and says that the reservation was cancelled. Ummmmm, I didn’t cancel my reservation. The new clerk says they have one room available (a suite) that’s $129.95. Ummmm, I STILL didn’t cancel my reservation that was booked at $60. She says they’ll get it fixed. She calls customer service who tells her they cancelled the reservation per a phone call on 9/6/09. Ummmm, oooook. I supposedly called to cancel my reservation that I made ONLINE and no one thought to send me a confirmation ONLINE that it was cancelled? Sure, I totally get that. I do it all the time. Amazingly, I stay calm (I have NO idea how at this point). The clerk says they’ll fix it and gets us a room. I’m all, Didn’t you just say that you only had one room? Sweet, we’re gettin the suite? Niiiice! Oh, we’re getting a regular room? Fine. I’ll take it. We’re running out of time before the show starts, so I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want a place to sleep tonight. Wait! Didn’t you just say that you only had one room left?

We head straight to the concert hall after that and I’m so close to spewing forth the slew of 4-letter words I’ve been bottling up for the past 2 hours. Ask Twitter. I’ve got just enough time to throw on some mascara before the concert. And with a wave of that magic wand, I’m transformed into Princess Cinderella who gets swept off her feet by Prince Charming. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t quite that magical. Rick never got anywhere near me. But I got to see a great show.

And I can’t believe it just took me 3 hours to write this. I was reliving it…..in real-time. Great.

Just signed off from an awesome time at http://www.blogherathome.com/. It was awesome, just fucking awesome. The chat tonite had some awesome giveaways (I didn’t win, but I’m still hopeful for tomorrow!) and some great laughs. If I didn’t have to be an adult tomorrow and go to work, I would totally still be chatting there now.

I’m more than lightly toasted, bordering on half-baked. The husband keeps trying to talk to me, but all I hear is, “Wah Wah…Wah…Wah Wah Wah…Wah Wah” (& if you have never watched a Charlie Brown cartoon don’t EVEN ask, you baby!).

Ok, so I just put on my Beatles CD. WTF? Is this what I listen to when I’m drinkin? Hmmm….not that I can recall, but then again I don’t really remember much right now. It’s probably the booze talking. Or not. I just might be *that* weird. My friends can attest to that.

Anywhoo, you should totally check out http://blogherathome.com/, cuz these bitches are AMAZING! Hope to see you ladies again tomorrow. Thx so much for the hangover that I can complain about tomorrow. You’ll never know how much it means to me. ROFL I should totally go to sleep now. Emphasis on *should*.

Reading all kinds of blog posts and tweets about BlogHer ’09, I was jealous. I admit it. I wish I was there hangin’ with the big dogs, partyin’ like it’s 1999, and learning from the best. Not this year, though. After finding out about it fairly late, I 1st ticked off the reasons of why I wasn’t worthy to attend and then said, “Screw it. I’m totally worthy!” But then, my mental birthday block temporarily lifted and I remembered that the cruise for my 40th is coming up. BlogHer had to take a back seat this year.

So here I am playin’ Bejeweled Blitz with the green-eyed monster. And I’m not alone. I don’t blame the others either; Bejeweled Blitz is the bomb. The good news is we’re not left out. We can party from home and it’s even better, cuz we don’t have to spend all the money to go to Chicago. We can even party in our pj’s! What’s better than that? Come join Blog Hop ’09 & meet lots of other bloggers out there. I’m definitely not gonna miss this!

Update – I just now caught that I had put Blog Hop ’90 in my title instead of ’09. The fact that I caught that after tossin’ back a few just might be scary. Hmmmmm…..

I’m usually pretty quiet in staff meetings. I keep my comments to myself until after when the little groups break apart into their more intimate bitch sessions. Today was another story. I had serious difficulty in keeping my comments to myself today when it came to discussing the merger/layoffs. Granted they were whispered to my friend sitting next to me, but still…..

Co-worker: I wonder what kind of morale booster they will have.

Me: cattle prod.

Co-worker: I’m sure they could come up with a really nice morale booster.

Me: oh…scented cattle prod.

My friend started rolling & I was laughing so hard I drooled on the table. Everyone else in the meeting was wondering what was wrong with us, especially when she got up to get me a tissue to wipe the table. Cuz no one wants to put their hands in someone else’s spit, no matter how funny the joke was that caused it to be there. I think the department head was glad for the 5 weeks where I missed the staff meetings.