I am home from Lolla. And various other wanderings.
To wit: On the 29th of July, I drove to Michigan, dogs in tow. I went to karaoke at the not-Elbow Room (oh, Elbow Room, how I miss thee). I hung out with my dad on Friday and was offered a pittance for my engagement ring. Thus, instead of selling it, my dad and I went to Knight's Steakhouse and drank vodka. The 31st was the Z Family Summer Gathering, and gather we did. Replete with full family photo and everything.
Things start to get fuzzy in my head then, about when I left Michigan, but I think it was the following Wednesday. Last Thursday I left for Chicago, arriving (much to my surprise) after C did, and then walking several blocks in the wrong direction before turning around and figuring myself out. We went out for dinner, found 'our' bar in Chicago, and were in bed early for the show the next day.
Friday: It was looking like prototypical Lolla for C&T. Show, heat, food. After the show, we made a half-hearted attempt to go to a bar, wouldn't wait, and so got Subway and ate in our room watching a Tomb Raider movie. Oh, how I wish I was kidding.
This came, of course, on the tail of seeing Lady Gaga perform. Now, I'm sure that some of our 10 readers are not Gaga fans, and I wouldn't blame you. It's dance-pop, and not something I am usually drawn to either. But. DEAR GOD. HER STAGE SHOW. Was so good that I STILL cannot talk about it. The woman breathed into a microphone, and the crowd (estimates are around 80,000 people) went nuts, myself included. So perhaps we can be excused our lame evening.
Saturday: Dear 14-year-old Tassie. Get up earlier and get those tickets to that Green Day show. In doing so, you will save your slightly older self the pain and suffering that is hearing Green Day in 2010. MAKE. IT. STOP.
On the way out of the show, someone was handing out fliers for a Necromantix show. So we went. After I changed into a Britney Spears tshirt. (Duh.) Then back to our bar for drinks, where we waited in line with some equipment crew from Lolla. Who offered to double up on a table with us, to be seated faster, and then paid for our drinks, in a not at all creepy way. Good. And beer.
Sunday: SOUNDGARDEN. I WAS TWO FEET AWAY FROM CHRIS CORNELL. And then some whore slammed up against me to get closer to him as he walked through the barrier area during Outshine. Which wouldn't normally be a problem, except I was up against the very-heavy barrier fence. And I have the bruises to prove it. When he walked away again, I had to throw a Bill Lambeer-style elbow at this bitch's face to make her GET THE FUCK OFF ME.
We went back to the bar after the show. And then the night got Epic. EP-IC. And that's all the tantalizing information I shall give you.
But it was so good that I had to slam TWO bloody marys at the airport bar the next day to function. In retrospect, I should have had them at the hotel bar before we left, and I would have been much better off. (And seriously, people, I can drink. I am no lightweight. I am a partier. So if I REQUIRE booze to function the next day? It's been a Night To Remember.)
Fast forward, slightly. Got home Monday night. Tuesday afternoon I drove BACK to Michigan to retrieve my dogs, thinking I would go home Wednesday morning. Except I started feeling lousy, and realized I had a cold/flu/ZOMGI'MDYING. I laid on my parent's couch all day Wednesday, feeling like ass. Started to feel better, went to C's to get some stuff she took home for me, and realized no, I did not feel much better at all. Yesterday, I drove home, finally.
This morning, I took a bus to New York City. I am an unstoppable force of nature, people. UNFUCKINGSTOPPABLE. I had one of my tattoos photographed for use in a cookbook coming out this winter. Seriously. My lemon and I will be featured in a cookbook. How fucking badass is that?
I am back home now. In Baltimore. And I swear I'm not leaving my house for at least 48 hours straight. I seriously just need to meditate on the meaning of life. And the dishes.