a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search. b. Using only the first page, pick an image. c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into Big Huge Lab’s mosaic maker. It's fun and free.
1. What is your first name? 2. What is your favorite food? 3. What high school did you go to? 4. What is your favorite color? 5. Who is your celebrity crush? 6. Favorite drink? 7. Dream vacation? 8. Favorite dessert? 9. What did/do you want to be when you grow up? 10. What do you love most in life? 11. One Word to describe you. 12. Your flickr name.
1. Plain yogurt for sunburns: Cooling, refreshing, and yummy with mandarin oranges and almonds.
2. Random quotes from "Clue": "I hated her SO much, I- flames, on the side of my face, breath- heav- flames..."
3. Peach daiquiris: Fruity, cold, I can't get blitzed on them. Score.
4. Younger men: *Sigh* might as well not buck the trend.
5. Aaron Rodgers over Brett Favre: Apparently it takes retirement to realize you don't like your wife and playing a children's game is more fun than painting the house.
6. MySpace stalking: All the cool kids are doing it, just ask Elaina.
7. "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog": I heart Joss Whedon; the man's a genius. And I have always kind of rooted for the villain.
8. Cowboys training camp: Zach Thomas is finally where he belongs, Witten and Romo are together and not in Mexico, and "Hard Knocks" is back. We can only hope Wade Phillips doesn't channel Dave Campo, repeating the same line to every guy he cuts: "We 'preciate ya woik ethic, and tha way ya go aboutcha byas-ness." Dufus.
9. "Bull Durham": Revisit this. Saw it last week with my BFF Elaina, who'd never seen it before. The opening Crash speech is the most famous quote (and I think everyone should have their own version), but man, there is some great stuff further along.
10. Twitter: Breezy back-and-forth snark with my peeps delivered instantly, except when we see the birdies trying to lift the whale. Tweet, damn you, I command it!
11. Reddish hair: I highly recommend it. It's apparently giving me a sassy attitude, and now I understand Katherine and Rae can't *help* but be forces of nature with this kind of hair color.
Also, I said earlier I'd tell you what happened after the George Michael concert. I wrote the blog, read it and started to post it last night when I realized how NC-17 it is. So I'll tell you privately if you ask, and it's really a better spoken-word story, but I'm not putting that stuff in print.
On the 13th, I drove 4 hours north to the Metroplex to fulfill an 8th-grade dream: to share oxygen with George Michael.
I arrived early, as has become my custom these days, and checked out the area around the hotel I was sharing with my friend Phil. Marble Slab, 24-hour cute little diner, and Pei Wei: SCORE. I nommed at Pei Wei and gabbed with Elaina, who at one point said something so funny, I inhaled Dan Dan noodles up the nose, complete with Sichuan pepper bits. So I'm coughing, my eyes are watering, I'm trying to breathe to drink some tea, and I never put down my cell phone. 'Cuz I'm a gamer like that.
Finally Phil hauled his cookies from Denton to our hotel, after his friend (who's a shrew) insisted on helping him get ready, then taking forever and keeping the beauty supplies. Wench almost made me late for George. So after a quick freshen-up, me and Phil, sporting Kenneth Cole sprinkled throughout our ensembles (we heart him), headed downtown.
So we're driving around and driving around trying to find parking, and mind you, I've never been to this place, so it seems like I know what I'm doing, but in reality I don''t know where the hell I'm going. ("Let good thoughts be your sword and shield."... "Maps are cheating.") We quickly realized neither one of us had cash to pay for parking, and I was angling toward a parking garage which I felt sure would take plastic, but one of Dallas' finest, who were directing traffic, sternly and firmly directed me into the other lane. He was hot and in uniform, so I of course took orders without even thinking; Phil totally didn't blame me.
We circled and circled, before finally finding an ATM on Cedar Springs (of course). We had a semi-George moment with Kenny Goss in front of his gallery, and we knew instantly the pop gods were smiling on us. SCORE #2. This was confirmed as we picked our way back to the AAC; usually, my sense of direction sucks, but it seemed for an instant I knew exactly where I was going instinctually. We slid into a lot within sight of the East entrance, hopped out, and after about 5 minutes of walking, realized we'd both made tragically poor footwear choices. We looked cute, but oh, the pain to follow...
We get past the metal detectors (!), and as we're trying to pick our way to the correct escalator leading to our section, in the crush of people Phil points out there's this guy who's dressed completely like George Michael. According to the Dallas Observer's Rich Lopez, this guy was milling around at intermission asking people if they were going to the after party and expecting people to want pictures with him. The giveways: creepy lurching, big gut, bad teeth, terrible English accent.
After walking a very painful 37.83 miles to the West side of the arena, getting bumped down and coming back around, we got into our two seats at the end of the row and they were ridiculous. Not in position, but in size. Airline seats are spacious La-Z-Boys compared to the milk crates they squeeze you into at the AAC, and poor Phil, who's like, 8 feet tall, could just not physically pretzel himself into the seat. Frustrated (and I couldn't blame him), he went to get a Coke, and came back motioning to me. He had mentioned his predicament to the security chick, and she let us sit in a row of folding chairs down below, eeeeven closer. SCORE again, because the only thing separating us from George was a thin Plexiglas barrier and a few hundred feet. Sigh...
And so we waited. For almost an hour. And the crowd performed several successful arena-wide waves. Which would have been fine, except the tickets said "Show starts 8 p.m. prompt, no opening act." Lies, all lies.
After a couple of false alarms, the huge digital screen flowing like a waterfall into the crowd finally lights up and we hear George's dulcet tones. "Where is he?" "Is he there?" Aaaaand the lights come up, and more than 10,000 people, myself included, completely lose their shit. Strap in, and here we go.
THE SETLIST: First Half: • Waiting (Reprise): The screens reminded me of the iTunes visualizer. Which is good, because I love that thing. • Fast Love/I'm Your Man: After this one, George asked our forgiveness, I'm assuming for the 50 minute wait. He then stated how good it was to be home (yay Dallas) and vowed to "work my ass off for you tonight." It was confirmed that he can, indeed, still shake his ass.
• Father Figure • Hard Day • Everything She Wants: during this, there was footage on the big screen of old-school Wham! in China... Sniff! • One More Try • Easier Affair: George made reference in this song to all the girls who wished he'd be a straight family man. I'm sorry George, the "Faith" video made me feel funny in the 8th grade, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. • Too Funky: God, I love this video and it was great to see it again. It was so good to see Naomi before she started throwing phones at people. • Star People
Somewhere in the first half, he was genuinely taken aback by the crowd support. He declared us the best audience of the tour so far, and we were pretty into it. My God, man, we love you! Didn't you know??? He then took a 20-minute breather to contemplate our love.
Second Half: • Faith: Aaaaah, I love this song. This is really where the George Michael singalong in the Center got into full swing, as those of us who remember that scruff and that cross earring belted out "when that love comes down with-out devotion" at the top of our lungs. Several times during the show, including this one, the crowd was singing as loud as the band was playing. Holla, Big D. • Spinning The Wheel • Feeling Good • Roxanne: George let us in on the backstory of the accompanying video, taken of hookers in the red-light district of Amsterdam. • Kissing A Fool • Amazing: George took a moment to give a shoutout to his very understanding partner, Kenny Goss, relating that he wrote this song for him. A very sweet moment. Now get on with the ass-shaking, man. • Flawless: Mr. Panayiotou claimed he was told this was the gayest song he'd ever written/sung. The center screen then splashed with freedom rings. You go, Georgios. • Outside: This one began with a chopper sound and the lights dimming. We lost sight of George. There was confusion... Then he popped out in a cop uniform. Ahh. Cuff me, officer.
First Encore: Yeah, like we were going anywhere. • Different Corner: my favorite George Michael ballad. Sigh. • Careless Whisper: Okay, so I sang at the top of my lungs on this one, as did the rest of the crowd, like I was in the 5th grade again. It's Careless effing-Whisper, man. It was a moment.
Second Encore: He had to promise us this would be the last song so we'd leave. Freedom 90, Freedom Reprise
His band was great, his backup singers were fierce, and I thought we were gonna have a George Michael down as he tripped over the edge of the waterfall stage and almost face-planted. I would have caught him.
Johnny Damon gets his Eff You from the baseball gods and Royal Rooters everywhere...
This, from the AP:
Johnny Damon went up for the ball and put his always vulnerable left shoulder in harm's way.
For a moment, it looked like he had made a spectacular catch, the kind that changes games, the kind that makes momentum. But when he hit the left-field wall, the ball popped out of his glove, bounced and sat on the top of the fence, as if mocking the New York Yankees.
Finally, it fell and rolled back into play, and by the time Damon lobbed it back in, Kevin Youkilis had a triple and two RBIs, and the score was tied in the third. Two innings later, the Boston Red Sox got their knockout, a three-run home run by Mike Lowell, and went on to beat the Yankees, 6-4, Friday afternoon before 55,130 at Yankee Stadium. Josh Beckett pitched six solid innings to get the win.
First and foremost, I'm lovin' the Beckett win, because my future ex-boyfriend needs his swagger back. But what might actually outweigh that is Johnny "Judas" Damon not only hurt his left shoulder on the play, but looked like a complete idiot when the ball finally came off the wall and landed feet from his lunk head. It became obvious after a few seconds Damon had no idea where the ball was, and the guys down at the bottom, behind the screen, were frantically pointing and yelling in an attempt to direct him. Classic.
Happy Fourth, Yanks. Enjoy that left-fielder; at least he's not making time with Madonna.
So guess who came in second in the Euro 2008 pool? Yeah, baby, yours truly! I got $30, but worth more than that was soundly beating Chris Hanna, Kevin Lyttle and the boss. Not that I have anything against those guys, just the opposite. It's just that it's always good to remind guys that girls know sports, too. Sometimes better than them.
I'd like to thank Spain, who got me my $30. A special thanks to hot keeper Iker Casillas, and his talented hands. And for deflecting those goals as well. (rimshot)
