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aruanAnd then there's riding the Tower of Terror three times in a row. And I only clutched the edge of my seat like a big girl the first time. Now that's brisk, baby.
This trip, man. When I bought that plane ticket a month ago, I did it mostly because I'd bought Schiz's and my tickets to the HOB shows in Anaheim and Vegas, and I'd have to present my ID at Will Call to get them. Which is a roundabout way to do/think about things, but there it is. But at every turn, just like December, this has been more than I ever bargained for.
Today's example: The Wayne Brady Show.
We get there, we get pepped, we find out we get William Shatner for the price of admission, too, we sing Bye Bye Bye during one of the longer taping breaks when it's discovered the bandleader knows Bill the warm-up guy knows the choreography to the chorus so he and Wayne sang the first verse, then there was dancing, and everyone had a blast.
Then JC came out, with the dismal hair and even worse outfit, and was darling despite all of it. Honey, I'm a college student in need of a summer job and manage to work some style despite a limited budget - you know deep down you want some of this. All you've gotta do is ask.
But then Tony and the band came out, too, and JC went around and touched every member before bumping chests with Tony just in time to make the back-from-commercial countdown, and they started into Catch Me and all else was pretty much forgotten. He sang backup for Tony! There was much delighted, muffled squeeing and near-fainting when JC stepped up to sing the second verse. They sang together! I feel sort of prophetic for having it in my head before last night's show.
Greek food and Cabernet Sauvignon Sorbet (!!! Sogoodthereshouldbewineineveryone'sicecream) followed, and then the long-ass drive to Vegas.
*slept for most of it - come on, still on East Coast time here!*
Schiz woke me as Vegas appeared on the horizon. Or you know, became the horizon. It's fabulous and sleazy and glamorous and tacky and beautiful all in one breath. Vegas, I've been here for a mere few short hours, and you've already made me fall in love and never want to come back again.
*distracted*
Sorry, gazing out the window of our suite at the outrageous view of the Excalibur (a castle! With towers and probably a moat!) among a rollercoaster, a great view of the Strip, and all the Las Vegas to be seen from twenty-three floors up in the MGM Grand. Actually, it being three in the morning and most sane children being tucked in their beds, I'm typing by the light of Las Vegas as we speak.
Andthenwefoundoutwe'rebothgoingtothemeet&greettomorrowomg,goodnight.
This trip, man. When I bought that plane ticket a month ago, I did it mostly because I'd bought Schiz's and my tickets to the HOB shows in Anaheim and Vegas, and I'd have to present my ID at Will Call to get them. Which is a roundabout way to do/think about things, but there it is. But at every turn, just like December, this has been more than I ever bargained for.
Today's example: The Wayne Brady Show.
We get there, we get pepped, we find out we get William Shatner for the price of admission, too, we sing Bye Bye Bye during one of the longer taping breaks when it's discovered the bandleader knows Bill the warm-up guy knows the choreography to the chorus so he and Wayne sang the first verse, then there was dancing, and everyone had a blast.
Then JC came out, with the dismal hair and even worse outfit, and was darling despite all of it. Honey, I'm a college student in need of a summer job and manage to work some style despite a limited budget - you know deep down you want some of this. All you've gotta do is ask.
But then Tony and the band came out, too, and JC went around and touched every member before bumping chests with Tony just in time to make the back-from-commercial countdown, and they started into Catch Me and all else was pretty much forgotten. He sang backup for Tony! There was much delighted, muffled squeeing and near-fainting when JC stepped up to sing the second verse. They sang together! I feel sort of prophetic for having it in my head before last night's show.
Greek food and Cabernet Sauvignon Sorbet (!!! Sogoodthereshouldbewineineveryone'sicecream) followed, and then the long-ass drive to Vegas.
*slept for most of it - come on, still on East Coast time here!*
Schiz woke me as Vegas appeared on the horizon. Or you know, became the horizon. It's fabulous and sleazy and glamorous and tacky and beautiful all in one breath. Vegas, I've been here for a mere few short hours, and you've already made me fall in love and never want to come back again.
*distracted*
Sorry, gazing out the window of our suite at the outrageous view of the Excalibur (a castle! With towers and probably a moat!) among a rollercoaster, a great view of the Strip, and all the Las Vegas to be seen from twenty-three floors up in the MGM Grand. Actually, it being three in the morning and most sane children being tucked in their beds, I'm typing by the light of Las Vegas as we speak.
Andthenwefoundoutwe'rebothgoingtothemeet&greettomorrowomg,goodnight.
