A few observations on a Metallica concert

1. I am WAY too old for "standing room" tickets.

2. Hubby is apparently also way too old to hoist me onto his shoulders so I can flash the band. Hmph.

3. Fire and lasers are awesome, and should probably be included in every live music show. Giant lighting rigs shaped like coffins are also cool, but probably not terribly appropriate for, say, Alicia Keys.

4. Want me to have fun? Drop hundreds of beach balls from the ceiling.

5. Metallica attracts fans in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages. Also, the children of all of those people.

6. There are always assholes who think the "no smoking" signs don't apply to them.

7. Earplugs are your friend, and I probably should have remembered them. Really, really should have remembered them.

8. I'm sorry, did you say something?

9. If you somehow manage to get up on stage, expect to be immediately and violently tackled by 400 pounds of Security personnel. You should probably also expect to be frogmarched off the stage by 800 pounds of Security, while the band giggles over the photographers' shots of you getting your eye sockets crushed into the metal staging.

10. ...Pretty much anybody can be taught to bellow the refrain to "Seek and Destroy".

The stadium has a SPA, right?

So, as mentioned, tomorrow we're off to Winnipeg bright and early* to see Metallica in concert, and my MIL is staying in our house to look after our son.

I think I have everything covered on my checklist.

Black clothing and barely repressed anger...check.

Road trip snacks and Go Girl...check.

Clearly labeled box of dildos under the bed, nightstand full of bottles of booze, and medicine cabinet stuffed with arsenic and eyeballs...check.

Impeccably clean house ready to pass the white glove test...ah...well...fuck it.

It'll give her something to do.

*So, like, 11am.

Some people climb into tiger cages, I set myself up for situations like this

I may have mentioned this, but probably not, because I don't need to tell you people ANYTHING, okay? October is a busy month and I actually just noticed in any meaningful way that it was sneaking up on me. Next week, I'm going on another little concert road trip. This time I'm going with the hubster.

That pretty much means we could only be going to see ONE band, and that is Metallica. Now, I like Metallica, but I wouldn't consider myself a true fan. Hubby, on the other hand, belongs to the fan club. That means he gets little perks like pre-sale tickets and a chance to meet the band.

I'm actually kind of afraid that will happen. There is nothing more terrifying for someone as socially inept as me than the thought of not only having to meet total strangers, famous strangers, but famous people of whom you aren't really a fan. Um, awkward? "Hi, I'm Keely, I couldn't tell you your name if you held a gun to my head, let alone your birthday or what instrument you play, which is probably okay since you know that stuff anyway right? Being that you're you and all? Also, I haven't listened to anything of yours with any kind of regularity since Ride the Lightning when I was 16 and really drunk, but I used to do THAT all the time. For real! ....so, do you ever think you might cut your hair?"

Actually, the only thing more terrifying to me is what is actually going to happen, and that is that my MIL is coming to stay with our son. In my house. Without me. She will be in my house, unsupervised, for over 24 hours.

Gah. I mean, which direction do I take this? Do I clean frantically and hide all the incriminating evidence?

Or do I just distract her from all the little deficiencies with something glaringly obviously, like a boxful of wiggly neon dildos?

Decisions, decisions.

Now, if AC/DC were underwater, they might sound better: Random Tuesday Thoughts


It's my favorite weekday! Well, okay, not really. My favorite weekday is FRIDAY, duh. But Tuesdays are a close second. So grab the button and get your random on!

AC/DC is playing here tonight. Well, not HERE, they'd have a hard time fitting into the basement, but at the stadium in town. I can hear it, even though it's 2 miles away. And guess what? They sound just as shitty as if I were RIGHT THERE! I think I just saved myself a hundred bucks, or something.

Once when I was a teenager my friend and I were partying with this Australian guy, and my friend was the designated driver. When we got in the car to drive home, the Aussie requested some music for the ride, the name of which he pronounced "Acca Dacca". What with the accent and the pronunciation, my friend had not a single friggin' clue what he was talking about, until I piped up from the back seat, "That's how they pronounce AC/DC in Australia."

Ah! Communication success, tape in the tape deck, everybody happy. My friend brought it up the next day, but I had no idea what she was talking about. I didn't remember saying that, and I had no fucking idea I even possessed that knowledge.

That's right. I was a drunken teenage psychic, y'all.

I think I'm getting a cold, and my ears are plugged. All day, everything has sounded like it was underwater. It was really irritating, until I started picturing everything actually BEING underwater. Then it was more entertaining.

When my keyboard floated away I decided I'd probably taken too many cold meds.

It occurs to me, as I sit here in my schlumpy pajamas and glasses with my extra rolls of tummy and my hair in a ponytail, drinking extra calories that I don't really need, that I'll never be considered "a hottie" again. But that's okay, because I'm smart and funny and talented, and I've already procreated, so my worth as a human being is intact, right?


Actually, that thought has occurred to me before. But don't worry, someone came along before the garage could really fill up with carbon monoxide.

My boss is out of town this week. It's been really nice to just plow through my massive workload without constant interruptions. I do like my job, just sometimes the environment sucks. This week has me thinking that I should just open my own pretzel stand six months out of the year, or maybe a gelato shop.

Um. Okay, that one even surprised ME with it's randomness. Considering I'm a graphic designer.

Sso if you're just standing around, these are called Squinters?

And...that's all folks. Do join us, won't you?

I could have solved this by just not coming home

So! No Doubt? Honestly, the best show I've seen in a really really REALLY long time. They looked like they were having so much fun, the sound was fantastic, the seats were good (a little nosebleedy, but great view). They were the only band EVER to say "You're the best crowd EVER!" and sound like they actually meant it.

Gwen looked fantastic. I want to be her. Can I be her? Who do I have to kill?

(I settled for buying a hoodie and not killing anybody).

We had a great dinner. I got to sleep all fucking night! And hog the bed! And then we had an awesome breakfast at Stella's followed by some SHOPPING. In a mall much less lame than the ones we have here. The kind of mall where (as FoN put it) there's a swirling vortex that sucks you in and suddenly you've lost 6 hours and $500.


Totally needed that holiday. Except for the tiny detail at the end. The part where, when I got home, my child wanted nothing to do with me. Actually climbed over his father to get away from me.

I was still a little deaf from the concert, but I'm pretty sure I could hear my heart breaking.


More Mom than Un, sorry

On Monday I'm heading out to the highly cosmopolitan city of Winterpeg to see No Doubt in concert. And I'm kind of freaking out.

Not about the concert, although I imagine it will be fabulous and Gwen Stefani will spot fellow moms through the crowd and invite us backstage to drink wine and give each other pedicures while playing dress-up in the latest L.A.M.B. goods. No, I'm freaking out because I'm going to be away from my son overnight.

I don't talk about parenting or my kid much on this blog and that's because it's the UN Mom. So this isn't about parenting or my kid. This is about me being a big fucking softie and crying about leaving my toddler alone with, horrors, his father, oh boo hoo.

I mean, seriously, it's not like I'm sticking him in a cage for the duration. He'll be fine (though hubby may have some scarring). I've just never been away from him for more than 8 or 9 hours, and never overnight. I'm going to miss him.

Okay, I'm not going to miss the temper tantrums he's been throwing at every diaper change and nap time and for that matter, it'll be nice to be in company that's continent. And I'm not going to miss the random wake ups (yes, still) that only seem to occur after I've JUST drifted off to sleep.

But, still. What if he needs me? What if he has a nightmare and I'm not there to rock him and pat his little back?

I mean, it'll be nice to have a whole bed all to myself and no toddler-clock and there's very little chance that anyone will wake up covered in their own feces. And it might be nice to walk through a crowd without being perpetually on the edge of a panic attack that my companion will be abducted when I glance away. Or eat a meal without having something thrown at my head, or drink my coffee without having to explain that it's "hot, I said it's hot, no don't touch I said it's HOT wait awwwwww....well what did I just tell you?"


You know what? I think he'll be fine.

7 observations about the Neil Young concert the other night

1. Neil Young can still rock out for two solid hours, but apparently that's his limit, because after that he kinda phones it in (one song encore, Beatles cover. Because he's short on material?). But hey, he's 60, I hope I can rock out for two hours when I'm sixty. Hell, I'll be happy if I can stand for two hours when I'm sixty.

2. The median age at this concert made me feel an awful lot younger than at the Alice Cooper concert. Even though not nearly as many of them ducked out before the encore. Or maybe they did, they just couldn't move that fast.

3. Pot still smells good.

4. I know I'm not 'super cougar' status, because apparently there's a requisite uniform of entirely monochromatic clothing, some of which should be leather (but not all, because that would just be tacky). If I start dressing in shiny wine-coloured leggings, a wine leather jacket, wine-coloured boots, and a wine purse, I'll know I've Arrived.

5. There was an artist on stage, at the back, painting for almost the entire concert, completely oblivious to the raging rock concert going on around him. Nobody ever explained what the hell he was doing, but if he's getting paid? I want THAT gig.

(Okay, I just googled it. Apparently you have to be a roadie for 20 years first. I'm not so keen now).

6. You know it's an old-school crowd when they actually hold up lighters, not cel phones.

7. Even Neil knows most of Neil's songs sound the same.

For more lists head over to abdpbt...

No more Mr. Nice Guy

Last night I went to see Alice Cooper in concert (don't make me post my high school grad pic again to explain why). I was hoping to have some really awesome story to tell you, like we got to hang backstage with Alice, or we got some cool swag, or I made out with the really hawt guitar player uh, never mind....sorry, honey! Anyway the reason I had such high hopes is that my friend J, which is who I went with, is such a diehard Alice fan that he managed to get an actual phone interview with him for the weekly show he does on the community radio station. I naturally assumed that after their conversation we would all go for coffee or something.

But, sadly, what I have instead is a compiled list of things that made me realize that I'm...well, OLD.

1. I didn't wear the makeup, but I did wear earplugs.

2. I spent a lot of time being inordinately annoyed by the couple in front of us and their constant PDAs. I mean, I get it, you love each other, smoochies, whatever. I don't need to see you grabbing each other's ass THAT many times, and the guy had his arm slung so tightly around the girls neck that it appeared he had her in a headlock. For the entire opening act. All I could think of was the poor girls massage therapy bills.

3. I was stone cold sober, and I was pretty disappointed that they weren't selling coffee. Because I was sleepy. At a rock concert.

4. It wasn't just me, because the entire audience sat stock-still through the opening band (Econoline Crush, who are pretty great and definitely party music). Okay, it was a seated-auditorium type venue, and this town is traditionally pretty stuffy laid-back as far as audience participation, but sea cucumbers would have displayed more enthusiasm.

5. I kind of worried that the stage show was too gory and/or derogatory to women, because J brought his 9-year-old daughter. I'm pretty sure that when I saw Alice in concert 3 years ago, there were no such concerns.

6. Half of the row in front of us left before the encore. That would be the third row, where the alleged 'fans' sit. Getting out of the parking lot quickly is apparently more important.

Anyway we had fun (including the 9-year-old) and Alice rocked (I mean, that guy's SIXTY, speaking of old). It even garnered high praise from J's daughter: "Yeah, I guess it was better than Hillary Duff".

Nobody tell Alice she said that.