My Inner Diet Devil Thinks Cookies And Ice Cream Would Make A Great Breakfast

Do you have an inner Diet Devil?

It's that voice inside your head as you're preparing a "good girl" meal of grilled chicken and steamed broccoli that starts off with a quiet whisper and then starts screaming:

"I WANT FRENCH FRIES NOW! And while you're at it, get a Big Mac to go with those fries. Ooooo, we need dessert, too! Bring pie!"

Yeah, that guy. I hate that guy. He's trying to sabotage me and won't be happy until I spend the rest of my life in pants that only close with draw strings and "Free Size" shirts.

And that's not a way to live, ladies!

Here's the deal. This whole blog has been about taking back my life from, um, well, the brink of "almost-disaster." Now work is good, finances are decent, friendships are repaired, new therapist is found, healing over the loss of my cousin/job/boyfriend has begun...

But I still have "big ol' fat depression butt."

So last month, I got serious. I started making a healthy breakfast. At breakfast, I planned lunch, at lunch I planned dinner. When things got so stressful and planning seemed to go out the window - I had a Backup-plan Plan. Defrost a frozen vegetable and dump a Lean Cuisine over it.

Lean Cuisine has, like, totally saved my life.

Every meal is paired with a huge serving of fruit or a veggie. The more full I am, the less I'm inclined to fantasize about shoplifting a bag of Ruffles potato chips from the 7-11 so the cashier won't judge me.

In 30 days, I lost 11 pounds.

Oh, did I mention exercise? Because that's a big part of it, though I have started off slow, just going to the gym 3 times a week for ONLY 45 minutes. I cap the "only" because I am stressing the point that I am trying to make this as easy on myself as possible so I won't find excuses not to do it.

But that's really when the Diet Devil is whispering in my ear. He knows that exercise is going to be the biggest piece of my weight loss pie (Mmmmmm, pie).

And he doesn't want me to go! He wants me to stay right here, chit-chatting on the internet or watching "Oprah."

Diet Devil: "Don't work out. Stay home, lie on the couch. Go ahead, put your feet up, you deserve it. Oprah is on. She's going to teach you how to be a better person. Isn't that going to benefit you more in the long run over riding some silly treadmill?"

Me: (small voice) "Um... I don't know."

So I started this post on Wednesday with the hopes that I would have a fantastic update about how I wrestled my Diet Devil and came out victorious with a trip to the gym. But it didn't happen. I talked myself out of going and then I let that be okay.

Not cool.

So today, Thursday, which isn't a gym day for me, I got my butt over to the gym and did what I needed to do. I don't want to fail myself. I have an uphill battle but the goal of 45 minutes 3 times a week is so small for what it gives back to me - it's physically, mentally and emotionally rewarding.

And if it'll make my jeans looser in the process - all the better!

The thing I have to remember is - it's just the getting there that's hard. Once I'm there, I really have to push myself to leave. I love the sweating and I love the feeling of getting stronger.

But mostly, I love setting out to do something and following through.

So what gets you to keep a promise to yourself? What do you do when you want to talk yourself out of going to the gym or eating right? I'd love to know. Then I can use it to beat that lil' Diet Devil off my shoulder the next time he's trying to keep me from going to the gym :)


This blog is dedicated to 8 pound weights.

My Inner Diet Devil Thinks Cookies And Ice Cream Would Make A Great Breakfast

I'm Very Busy Being In A Crazy Blind Rage...

Because someone went joyriding with my bank card and racked up over $800 bucks in three days. Luckily, I just ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner and that's about to make it almost better.

I showed amazing restraint not taking one of my old anti-anxiety pills I have left over from my "bad times" and crushing it into the raspberry jam.

What's ironic is I found this out as my bank card was being denied as I was making a donation to Save The Children. If you're trying to Save The Children, you should not have some maniac emptying out your bank account.

No. You should open you're bank account and actually find MORE money in there. Because you're a good person. Who saves the children.

I know the bank will make this okay but I still want to punch someone in the face.

After I cried to my friend on the phone and she made me giggle and see that everything would be okay, I hung up the phone and then my dog threw up in my bed.

So if you are having a bad day or had a bad week, get it out, girl! You can rant right here! I'm here for ya!

xoxoxo


This blog is dedicated to idiots to steal bank cards and then fill up their gas tanks and drive to San Francisco. Tomorrow, I'm dedicating a police report to you.

I'm Very Busy Being In A Crazy Blind Rage...

Adventure Bowl Let's Go Flying!

When I was starting this blog, I wrote about getting a pep talk from my younger sister. I told her after experiencing job loss, a death in the family, my Mom's illness and a break-up, I was feeling super blue and I didn't know what to do.

She said she had the perfect solution: I should jump out of an airplane.

I thought she meant figuratively and this was going to be some great metaphor for life - like "letting go" or "stepping out of my comfort zone."

No, she meant, literally, I should jump out of an airplane.

When she went sky diving, it had made her feel unbelievably strong, spontaneous and fearless and she thought it would do the same for me.

I did need that feeling of empowerment but I didn't want to do anything that would make me say... die in the process. Sky diving looks dangerous! But the more my way of doing things - eating Cheetos and hiding under a "Hello Kitty" comforter was not doing the trick to ease my pain, the more I started to come around to her koo koo bananas way of thinking.

That's when I made the Adventure Bowl and started filling it up with all sorts of things I had never done before, things that would thrill me and make me feel happy again.

This past week I picked the only kind of sky diving I felt ready for out of the bowl. That's indoor sky diving. It was such a shocking blast! You suit up just like regular sky diving and take a safety class where no one makes fun of you that you are a control freak for needing a totally safe environment where there is no danger of plummeting to your death.

And then you step into this massive wind tunnel and get blasted up into the air in this huge, I don't know, 60 foot high container and you literally feel like you are really sky diving. There's even someone there to hold your hands and make sure you are A-okay.

And just as I was about to feel like I was the most awesome, fearless person on earth, I look out and realizing that this giant tube is totally clear - and realize that tourists are taking pictures of me and I probably look kind of ridiculous in my one piece nylon jumping suit and gigantic grin.

But I don't care!

It was just that spectacular and not very expensive and something I think everyone should do! It even made me feel bold enough to add REAL sky diving to the Adventure Bowl to be picked out somewhere in the future.

Except that time, I'll be holding my sister's hands and not a strangers.


This blog is dedicated to little sisters.

Adventure Bowl
Let's Go Flying!

Don't Let a BIG Butt Get In The Way Of A BIG Life

A lot of people put off living until they are in their perfect size six jeans. You know, "I'll travel when I'm thinner, I'll be more active when I'm thinner, I'll start dating when I'm thinner."

For me, I'm shaking an extra healthy butt right now and there's nothing I'd like to do more than crawl under the covers until it's gone. But actually, crawling under the covers and doing nothing is how I got this body that most now resembles the shape of an old time refrigerator.

I always said this wouldn't be a diet blog but it is about starting over and new beginnings. And I am determined to prove my theorem (Hello SAT word, it's been awhile) that I can go from being in a down in the dumps rut-tacular to a happier, new and improved me - by taking action.

I wish ACTION could have been following the "Eat, Pray, Love" guideline of chucking my life for a year and traveling the world. Italian food sounds so good right now. Pass the cheese! But... have you seen the economy lately? And even if it was great, can people really quit their jobs, throw their dogs in a suit case and drop out of life for a year? I know I can't.

That's why I started the Adventure Bowl - to live in the now and to really reboot a life that feels like it's gotten a little stale, old and rut-a-licious. And Adventures don't have to cost anything - they're just something that surprises you! Something that takes you out of your comfort zone and gives you that tingly, "I'm alive" feeling.

So part of me doing my Adventure Bowl has not only led, in this past year, to more work than I can handle - and the super fun, creative kind, but finally - a dent in my weight. Like six pounds, people!

I think in order to really commit to something, it always takes a "click" in your mindset and I'm a little afraid to claim the "click" but I think the "click" has finally clicked. You know the click, "I'm so sick of this giant butt not fitting in my jeans!" That click. "I'm so tired of having cute clothes and nothing fits right." Click!

"I'm tired of doing these super fun Adventures and feeling like my chunky butt/arms/thighs/jiggle in the middle is making me slower/tired/unable to enjoy what I'm really doing."

So about two weeks ago, I started keeping a food journal, then I added taking my dog for a bi-nightly walk and finally...

THE GYM.

Let's face it ladies, the gym can be your own best friend. You just have to treat her right. My mistake is I have treated her like that friend that you hang out with five times a week for hours at a time and all they do is talk about themselves and their stupid boyfriends and then YOU NEVER WANT TO SEE THEM AGAIN.

Yeah, I did that. Being too much a perfectionist at the gym, I overdid it and made myself sick of it. Hence, the bread dough butt. So now, new rules - three times a week forty five minutes in and out. This is hard for me, I want to dive back into old habits but I keep telling myself not to because I never want to NOT see the gym again and be back where I was.

For me, it's still a loooooooooong road. I, like, have only reached .00000000000001% of my goal. But I won't hide under the covers until I do and I won't stop living a big life until I do. Because what I learned is all this having fun and doing these adventures is why the weight is coming off...

Well, that, the gym and ungodly amounts of broccoli. But mostly "the happy."


This blog is dedicated to the female torture that is - the Ab Crunch.

Don't Let a BIG Butt Get In The Way Of A BIG Life

Adventure Bowl Face Your Damn Fears!

When we are kids we have no fears. I can still remember ripping down my hill in a Hulk Big Wheel going what seemed 55mph without a care in the world.

Now, I have the weirdest fears, like Halloween and the ocean. Halloween because it makes no sense to, in the dark, tempt perfect strangers wearing masks with chocolate covered candy so they can come into your house to bound, gag and rob you. (Yes, I have a very active imagination!)

And imagine all the energy they'll have after they've eaten the Almond Joy you gave them.

My fear of the ocean is completely unclear as I was once a lifeguard and ya know, was charged with rescuing drowning beach people.

But the whole idea of this Adventure Bowl is to overcome fears and reignite things on the "to-do" of life. Knowing that by doing so will lead to a happier me.

So when I picked "Today you will paddle board," I secretly cringed because I'd have to do it in the ocean. Where sharks live. Where your legs sometimes dangle into the ocean where sharks live while you're getting the board out there. (There, the ocean... where sharks live.)

I hear they like to snack on your legs. That's what I learned during "Shark Week" on the Discovery Channel.

But fear has really gotten the best of me. And this time, I was determined to overcome it...

So I went down to the ocean and rented all my gear. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit the whole idea of paddle boarding came to me while I was watching an episode of "Iconoclasts" with Eddie Vedder and Laird Hamilton. As I watched Eddie Vedder (who's music I love, but he is a known pouter) paddle board in Hawaii and smile a smile where you can almost measure JOY, I thought, "That's for me, I gotta do that."

The gear is awkward because you want a really long board, then you want some paddles and then in front of TOTALLY HOT SURFERS you have to get all this gear out, far in the ocean and past the breaks.

You kind of have to think that no one is looking at you. Like dancing in public. If I think that it looks all spastic and someone is likely to just call 911 as a precaution, then I don't dance.

And here, I didn't think about how, I could NOT look less like I knew what I was doing. But I did it anyway.

You would be AMAZED how much stamina it takes to drag yourself around on a board. It looks so easy but it's hard! You're supposed to have something called "abs" that I do not seem to possess. But there was this infinite quietness and sense of how small I seemed to be in the world.

And that's something I needed.

That and to just laugh at how NOT strong I am. Or coordinated. Do you know what it's like to just stand up, on a board, paddle really hard and then not get anywhere? I just felt ridiculous. And it felt like life, how I am often trying to push through something when I should just... I don't know, sit there and wait for it to blow over.

So I did a lot of sitting. And I'll admit, not a lot of leg dangling was going on. I did not "dangle the leg snacks." That's what's great about a 6ft board... you can sit and lay down.

Mostly, I thought, "I did it" when I could have stayed home, could have just been watching TV or hanging out and instead I got in a hideous bathing suit, carried a huge cumbersome board out to the ocean of death (yeah, I can be waaaay dramatic) and tried something new.

And faced a fear. Will I do it again? Absolutely. As soon as I have abs. Then definitely, again.


This blog is dedicated to land sharks.

Adventure Bowl
Face Your Damn Fears!

Adventure Bowl Will My Catholic Guilt Make Me Crack?

Sometimes in the life of the Adventure Bowl, it's not so much the adventure that's the story, but what happens after the adventure that's the story.

Yes, I may have test drove that Porsche as a way to put some sparkle and spontaneity into a life that was feeling a little routine and stale. But I was never planning on buying it. Come on! I was carrying an Old Navy bag as a purse for god's sake!

But apparently Scott from Porsche World is not taking "No" for an answer - repeatedly calling me and wanting to talk about my options about "little or no money down."

Which has my interest peeked because I totally have "little or no money down" to spend. And the streamlined body of that Boxster seemed to make my upper arms so much less jiggly...

And I wonder, say if a bought said Porsche and it was all a way to avoid the Catholic guilt of lying during the test drive, if there might be some tax write-off involved. Especially if I could find a bumper sticker that said, "Driving in Luxury for Jesus." That's charitable, right?

Scott keeps calling. Home, cell, email. I can't help thinking, I've certainly been pressured into more things only to come out with less (and yes, I mean exactly what you're thinking... unless your thinking something gross, then no, not what you're thinking. Wait, what are you thinking?)

I was going to post this tonight with more detail but my adventure for this evening involves scrubbing off my weekend spray tan and having my Catholic guilt assuaged by drinking imported beer. I'm determined to figure out how many Happy Hour beers can be drunk in a lady like way in under two hours.

I'm thinking three.


This blog is dedicated to the beauty that is, the Black and Tan.

Adventure Bowl
Will My Catholic Guilt Make Me Crack?

Facebook Makes Me Feel Weird

Two things I never thought I'd do: Blog or be on Facebook. Or have a threesome. So three things. All three make me feel weird.

Two I've done (Blog and be on Facebook) and the other that I haven't, that just makes me feel creepy and want to go to confession for even thinking about.

So the thing about Facebook - I always thought it was lame and when people would ask me, "Why aren't you on Facebook?" I'd say, "Because I'm not thirteen."

And I would say it like a bitch!

But then, my friend had her Facebook up on her computer and all of a sudden it was three hours later and I had peered into the lives of every person I ever loved, hated, worked with, wished was my boyfriend, had an unfortunate sexual experience with, dreamed about, lost my virginity to, drank under the table or threw up on.

It's crazy!

And it's all out there. Where they live, who they're living with, what they're doing, who they're doing it with and the photos - OH, THE PHOTOS!

Look who lost his hair, look who gained weight, look who should rethink culottes. Look who got a guy way hotter than she is and look who has an ugly kid.

The total lack of privacy is totally "nut-so" but kind of fantastic.

So I dipped my toe in, I threw up a page. The weird thing is, I'm at a cross roads. There seems to be this huge competition, like, who can have the most friends. I have friends that have 150 friends and friends that have 300 friends. I have friends that add all their work friends, bosses and company management too.

But that seems INSANE. Do I really want my boss, my boss' boss and their boss to know "I'm not eating a Lean Cuisine and watching 'Gossip Girl' no matter what anyone told you." (Go ahead, you can take that one). Or "I'm trying to put lipstick on a Chihuahua and it's more difficult than you think." (Not really funny but says I'm up on politics).

Or "That Ambien sure goes down nicely with two Cadaliac Margaritas!"

I MEAN, COME ON!

So I've held myself back, just adding the people I talk to all the time to which means... I probably don't need a Facebook page.

But hey, that's what works for me. And in the end, if I just have my profile up to check in on friends from high school and college, that's cool with me. It's so nostalgic and beautiful to see the people I care about with BFs, GFs, houses and great jobs, beaming back from a little JPEG. To see my relatives and cousins, all the way across the country, so far away but I can feel a little closer because I can see their circle of friends...

And for the spying, you totally have to have an account for the spying.

So what do you think about Facebook? Are you into putting it all out there or holding something back? Oh, and if you have a good Facebook story - stalking or embarrassing, I DEFINITELY want to know it.


This post is dedicated to being incognito.

Facebook Makes Me Feel Weird

It's Very Important to Me That The Cashier At 7-11 Thinks I'm Going Out Dancing Tonight

This week has been a whirlwind. I had two big projects due on Friday, one at 3:00pm and one at 4:30pm and once they were done all I could think was, "I'm gonna get crazy tonight!"

Only, I didn't get crazy because on my way to get crazy, I locked my steering wheel and my car wouldn't work and all I could think of was, "Now you can't go anywhere and you're really going to regret not going grocery shopping this week and at least picking up toilet paper!"

I came back in the house and I was sure that there had to be some kind of celebratory liquid (i.e. alcohol) that I could get my mitts on. I found a bottle of organic wine that literally, literally could have filled... I don't know, something frickin' small... so small, I didn't even bother wasting a glass on it.

I just uncorked the bottle and took the smallest, saddest chug out of it that I could.

I probably could have gotten a bigger buzz off gargling with some Listerine.

I'm classy.

So then, I'm all about, "Saturday night! Saturday night will be awesome! I'll dress up, I'll wear mascara. I'll drink a fifteen dollar glass of wine before switching to domestic beer to save money for cab fare! I'm gonna get ripped!"

So classy.

But then all last night I'm all super amped and can't sleep and it might have something to do with having, like, a sextriplet espresso at Starbucks so I could power through the day and make all my deadlines and I actually barely drift off at 3:00am but my dog needs to go out at 5:00am (and I think after my last post you know I'm not taking any chances with him...)

So my super deep REM doesn't even come until after 5:30am but I wanna get back on schedule so I get up at a decent hour this morning only to be in a semi-conscious state all day.

And that's when, tonight, after treating myself to four "30 Rocks" back to back on my computer, I see that it's 6pm and I start thinking, "Can I just please go to bed now? Please."

Who would know?

I WOULD KNOW! I need to go out, I need to socialize, celebrate, wear something with non-elastic pants! I need my hair to be down, my eyes to be swathed in sparkle, I need to hear good music and laugh 'til I semi-snort.

Oh, but I'm so tired. So you know what I do?

I'm wicked hungry and I'm madly craving going to McDonalds and getting a kid's meal. That's what I do. Four chicken McNuggets, small fry and a lemonade. That's my Saturday night.

I'm kidding. That would be pathetic if that were my Saturday night.

Okay, that was totally my Saturday night.

And as I'm digging into my meal and I realize that they forgot to put bar-b-que sauce in with my meal (which let's face it - it's all about the bar-b-que sauce. The nuggets are just a mechanism to get the bar-b-que sauce into my mouth.)

So then I'm like, "I'm totally writing a letter to McDonald's about how completely incompetent they are." But then it occurs to me that the only thing sadder than eating a Happy Meal on a Saturday night, is admitting that you ate a Happy Meal on a Saturday night.

"Let it go," I told myself. "You have so many YouTube videos to watch tonight."

Then THAT thought made me even sadder so I stopped at my 7-11 to pick up a bottle of wine and all of a sudden it became very important to me that the cashier think that this bottle of wine was a HUGE precursor to my night of dancing and debauchery.

"I'm just gonna have a few friends over tonight to have a little of this Shiraz and then we're gonna get CW-AZY!"

I didn't say that. Saying that is like admitting: "I'm really going home to drink this wine alone out of a coffee cup while I watch videos of cats play with rolls of toilet paper."

So instead, I did the thing where, as he's ringing up my wine, I'm scraping the price tag off the bottle, which we all know is code for: "I'm on my way to a party."

Do you think he bought it? I think he totally bought it.


This blog is dedicated to hamsters.

It's Very Important to Me That The Cashier At 7-11 Thinks I'm Going Out Dancing Tonight

The Super Disgusting Post That Will Come Down in 24 Hours

This post is for the ladies.

I'm doing my taxes.

If you’re like most people, you did your taxes in April. No, not me, not when you can get an extension 'til September.

So I got all the "tax stuff" spread across my bed. The receipts, the calculator, the Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen folders (one for personal and one for business... I think you can guess which sister goes with which.)

Got my ice coffee in a Big Gulp cup which got me chased out of my 7-11 this morning because apparently, you aren't supposed to put a hot beverage in a cold cup even if it is 90 million degrees out. There was no reasoning with Bhadraa, the cashier behind the counter, she just told me not to come back if I could not act right.

Anywhoo...

My dog is pawing at me in a way I think, annoyingly means, "Let's go to the dog park" but I now know means, "Lady, dial 9-1-1."

He starts to gag. But it's not bad gagging. He's bad gagged before like when I impulsively adopted him a BFF in a the form of a 8 pound devil dog who's favorite past times were taking a crap in my bed and never letting me sleep.

Devil dog gave my dog, Cooper, the "bad gagging" or as I found out, it's proper name from the vet after a $75 visit, "kennel cough."

Kennel cough was bad gagging. This, today, was not bad gagging.

Still, he seemed uncomfortable and before I could decide if I should scoop him up, hang him upside down and give him a wack on the back to get his air way clear....

He....

He...

He... threw up a tampon in my bed.

On my taxes! A tampon. One that had been... (I am so mortified) gently used.

He is a ten pound chihuahua mix with a throat that CANNOT be bigger than my Big Gulp straw. How did that go down there? And HELLO, how did that, get back up????

Luckily, the Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen folders were plastic, so whew, those were saved. I'm not even going to talk about the clean-up process because that would be too disgusting, though I will say that I have since looked up prices on Haz-mat suits for the home.

Because dogs can be gross.

And then...

And I am not kidding...

Though I wish I was...

But I swear on my family's life... that I'm not...

HE DID IT AGAIN. He gagged up, right there, on Ashley Olsen's 2007 Personal Tax Folder... a second tampon.

And now I have to burn my whole apartment down.


This blog is dedicated to fur kids.

Why keep all this glorious grossness to yourself?! If you have pet-lovin' friends who might enjoy this story, just use the little envelope icon below to email it to them. Of course, they'll thank you for it!

The Super Disgusting Post That Will Come Down in 24 Hours

Adventure Bowl We Want To Be Rock Stars!

Okay, this might not go down as one of the most hilarious posts ever. Why? I got a little tipsy at our weekly "Project Runway" party last night. How do you know when you've had too much wine? When you wake up the next morning and you want macaroni and cheese for breakfast. Here goes!

Most of the adventures I've done have required little to no money but all have had the same goal... to be spontaneous, to have fun and to shake up life a little bit.

The Adventure to spend an obscene amount on concert tickets was one I was psyched I picked because music is a huge part of my life and I love going to live shows. But it was one of the first things to go out the window when life started coming down all around me.

But to spend an obscene amount? That's just not me. I'm really conservative about money, a safe spender. What is obscene, anyway? I've trolled eBay and craigslist and have seen great seats at concerts go for $500, $800, $1,000 dollars. A month's rent for one night? I don't know if it's in my genetic make-up.

Then I wondered, if it was all over tomorrow - wouldn't I have wished I had the night of my life?

In a story that's fantastic in the way it turned out but would be boring in the telling - I won tickets to see Dave Matthews at the Staples Center, floor seats, VIP passes and meet and greet for $300 bucks.

It goes something like this: At a charity auction, plied with free wine, want to bid on tickets, hear they went for $1200 last year, drink more free wine to console myself that I will never ever bid that much so therefore, I will not win, woman in charge doesn't put the tickets up at the live auction (apparently she drank more free wine than me and forgot), I ran into the back room and begged to have the tickets at their base price and I was the winner.

Yay!

Then I sobered up the next day and pondered putting them on eBay. I spent $300?! On concert tickets?! That's 1/2 a computer. It's gas money for 2 months. It's a plane ticket home. It's groceries for the month... if I buy steak! (I really should start eating more steak.)

Then I gave myself this pep talk: "Stop being so practical. You're always so practical. Do you want your obituary to read, "She was always so practical." NO!

So I went. And I took my one of my closet friends and completely obsessed DMB fan, with me. How obsessed? She lamented not being professionally fitted for a bra on the way to the meet and greet.

She loves their music and wanted to make a very boob-a-licious impression.

When we got to the concert, we felt such an amazing rush just being outside, never mind when we got our laminated VIP passes. First stop, VIP bar where we took part in many free beverages. Then we found out there may be a VIP VIP bar with dinner service and we wanted in on that action.

My friend M, grabbed my arm and followed this woman who looked very VIP VIP. She traveled through some secret passageway from the first VIP area into the next. That's when we found ourselves smack in the middle of this huge buffet area.

Pork loin, anyone?

M went for desserts and I loaded up with shrimp alfredo. (Hey, after four (five) VIP beers, this seemed like a good idea). That's when a woman said to me, "You don't get much for what you pay for."

Pay for? You have to pay for this?

Seems we were only in a VIP VIP area in our dreams. We had entered a service entrance to the buffet, bypassing the hostess stand where people were lining up to get to the buffet and then sit down to eat. So here we were glad-handling what we thought was free food.

And it was not. Which, once we had confiscated my stolen goods onto an adjoining patio, just made it all the more enjoyable. Had I paid $50 for shrimp alfredo I would have been so mad!

The concert was amazing. We were in the 22nd Row and for the encore, I snuck up to the 5th Row. It was mesmerizing to be up that close. The concert had a deeper meaning because the band had found out just hours before that a founding member, their sax player, had died that day.

Maybe it was all the VIP beers, or maybe it was Dave dedicating songs to their band mate who has passed away but it was really emotional. It all seemed to come to a head when he sang "Sister" which has been sometimes theorized to be about his murdered sister and other times about his surviving sister who helped him through it...

"Think about another day
Wishing I was far away
Wherever I dreamed I was
You were there with me"

That's it. That's when the tears came. Because, I couldn't believe after such a tragedy, that they could play that night. And bigger than that, that the lead singer could have ever gone on, after the death of his sister.

It made me think so much of my cousin and how much I felt and wondered if I could ever do the same after we lost him. But seeing the band, I don't know, it just made me think, that's what you do... you just do it.

You go on.

And you do it for them.

Because they would want you to. Because it's more of a way of honoring them then getting under the covers and hiding ever would be. Because a life lived any other way, than the best way it could, would be such a waste.

And as I got more teary at "Bartender" and as I danced crazily to "Everyday," I thought, that's a lesson that's worth way more than $300 dollars.



This blog is dedicated to someone special.

Adventure Bowl
We Want To Be Rock Stars!