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)
So leading off, Teresa had her going-away party at Beauty Bar last Wednesday. There was dancing on the table, and even Jason Whaley came out. So after a couple of tequila shots and a couple of Crown and Cokes, I remembered why mixing liquors is a bad, bad idea. My mental capacity was perfectly fine, but my stomach said, "Naw!" Fortunately, there was no hurlage, because I stopped myself like a big girl.
Ya see, the whole tequila thing started innocently (as they always do) with me buying Teresa a shot as soon as I got there. So I bring it to her, and she tells me she "can't do tequila." Well, I've never been one to force anyone to drink anything, so there I was with two shots of Patron in my hands. What am I gonna do, pour them over Alan Trubow's head? (Not entirely a bad idea, in hindsight.) So I slam 'em, like the gamer I was raised to be (thank you journalism), and Melanie Spencer's husband and Brian Diggs see what I just shot, marvel accordingly, and then Diggsy says, "Aw man, I want one. Will you do a shot with me?"
Now when my friends ask me to do a shot with them, you guys know what your girl Critia is gonna say. Will I have a shot, yes I will, cheers thanks a lot, ooo it burns, thank you very much, yes I'd like another. So shot taken, tummy angered, I walked outside to get some fresh air and wandered into the most bizarre convo triangle: Whaley, Trubow, and Tim Eaton. I thought I'd really had too much, until I realized, "Y'know, Self, a lot of this wouldn't make sense if you were completely sober." Then I somehow slipped into a conversation with Mel Spencer's husband about Baylor football, and that's when I knew the night had taken a turn for the weird.
All in all, a good time was had, and weirdly the only person I know with pics is Trubow, which he's not forking over. As it is, I had to steal this one:
A group shot before shots. It would be a lot bigger if I didn't have to rip it off Alan's Facebook.
So the following Monday, me, Lori, Etienne and Tim piled in my car and went to Schlitterbahn. First I had to peel me and Tim off the roof of my car, because I'm not sure who was more excited. I mean, E and Lo were amped, but me and NomNom had the crazy eye, and at one point I actually caught myself bouncing up and down as we were shoving our stuff in the lockers.
It was an overcast day, not too hot, about 4 p.m. when most everyone else was tuckered out and had left. So our first ride, man, the water was cold! As we floated down one of the longer tube rides, Etienne and I kept looking at each other with these ear-to-ear grins, throwing up the metal/horns sign, and shouting "come AWN!" I think the other park patrons thought we'd come on the special bus. Best of all though, at the end of the ride, on the steep incline before it drops you into the deep pool at the end of the ride, I took out a guy taking his sweet time exiting the staging area. Hells yeah.
The lagoon several of the rides dump you in
Afterward was more fun and frivolity while trying to hang on to our sunglasses (Lori and Tim: FAIL), lolling around in the large pool, debating tube size vs. butt sinkage/lack of aqualocomotion, and generally running around like teenagers on Jolt. I remembered my mortality halfway down the soda straws, that I could indeed bang my head on the side, break my neck and slide lifeless down a plastic cylinder. That's about the time that I spun around the entire circumference, causing that fluttery-tummy feeling that roller coasters do, and I'd forgotten until that point that when my tummy feels like that, my mouth opens and my body automatically emits a high, shrill scream characteristic of 4-year-old girls everywhere. When I finally exited the Tube of Death, the Three Amigos almost drowned themselves laughing so hard at me.
We saw some teenage girl walking around with a temporary tattoo anchor, and immediately we had to have one too. We're standing in line, and there was some waffling before the anchors were decided on, when this weird girl in front of me starts talking to us about absolutely nothing. You know those times when you're talking to strangers, and the conversation naturally dies, and like a normal person, you turn back around? Yeah, she kept hitting banal topics with the damn electric paddles to keep them from dying. She'd turn around, and just when I thought I heard the flatline, here's she'd be in my grill again. And, OF COURSE, she worked there.
We played some more, and were walking back from the tube ride that shoots you into the Comal River when we heard the announcement that the park was closing. Actually, between me and Lo getting out of the water and the announcement, Nom squeezed in a ride on a nearby body slide. He was pretty unstoppable...
The River Tube Chute
We had gotten SplashCash (which I HIGHLY recommend), and were able to refund our unspent tickets for cash. As the light was fading and we were collecting our stuff, Nom and I snapped these:
Afterward, we had the best ending to a Texas play day: beer and barbecue at Rudy's in New Braunfels. I contemplated taking a pic of my Lone Star and brisket, it was so damn good.
So we're definitely going back, we've honed our battle strategy, and there might be a special guest star on the next one; stay tuned!
