aruan | JC Chasez at the House of Blues in Mandalay Bay, Las Vegas, NV

Oh, Vegas. You are my shlock and awe capital of creation. Your labyrinthine casinos, your elaborate and excessively ornate gilding on everything from doorhandles to faux Roman pillars, gambling at restaurant tables because god forbid one should waste a second not doing that. You put on the grandest facade and never fake that it's real, and there's something admirable in that.

There's something to be said for having gone from a dorm room in Gainesville three days ago to a penthouse suite in Mandalay Bay.

coolwhipdiva and

without_me made the first Carlos sighting of our day when they shared an elevator up. Apparently, Carlos didn't quite get how to work it, either (you have to pull the card out of the scan slot, not just leave it in.) The Caesar's Palace buffet didn't disappoint, especially the pineapple Mahi Mahi and the tiny little tiramisu torte. Mmm.

Drinks with A were followed by the girliest session of primping, learning to walk in my new black heels, up vs. down hair, debating about ten different tops to wear with my blue/green plaid skirt that would finally see daylight. I looked and felt the girliest I've been in a very long time.

Which would've been fine - if they hadn't taken us outside to do the meet & greet.

We're going to heavily gloss over the dramarama of a waiting process and just say that in the ulcer-inducing interim,

sassygurl made sure I didn't leave without having gambled, and I won us two bucks on a slot machine. Whoo!

As I said, when they did finally take us inside, it ended up that they had the table set up outside the House of Blues in the loading dock. Which would've been neither here nor there, except it was windy out there. And while I'm wearing a perfectly non-hoochie length skirt, it wraps around and is made of pleated fabric which is wonderful for catching the wind.

No, really.

So we're out there and they read us a pre-emptive riot act while we kept decent by a very slim margin, doing all sorts of Marilyn Monroe poses, when the man of the hour comes out through the side door.

You know, people keep saying how he looks "tired but good" - matter of fact, I was just about to describe him that very same way - but I think it's that his own personal baseline is just that low. Having recently reread the Rolling Stone article from when they were recording Celebrity and how the writer described JC as being the furthest from his stage persona in real life in terms of outward energy. I tend to think of it as cruise control for that couple of hours before the show begins, which, as anyone who's ever seen him perform will attest, is understandable. Just my take though.

I was second in line only because I chickened out of going first. [ETA: I remember one of the girls we stood in line with at the second Sunset show mentioning how JC came in through another door to the meet & greet the night before and Lonnie having to announce his arrival and JC's stricken look when everyone backed away in surprise as they turned around. Hee!] Not having counted on getting passes, I'd brought nothing for him to sign, but the girls had suggested taking the shirt I'd made for the December club tour sojourn (spraypainted lettering much like the jacket he wore for A.D.I.D.A.S. back then that says I sold my soul to the solo club tour Dec. '03.)

In retrospect, it could've been off-putting, but JC was lovely about it and genuinely sounded flattered. I walked up, still clutching my skirt with one hand, and presented the plain front to him and asked him to sign to the left. It took some negotiating to write on the fabric, and who knows now what I said to him in the process, but as he finished, even though everyone in charge was being very perfunctory about the whole thing, I told him I had to show him the back, turned it over on the table and told him about having been to all the club shows in December and having had a great time. He smiled when he read the design and said, "That's cool, that's really sweet," then stood up to mug with me:

...before I parted wishing him a great show tonight, and yeah, being called 'honey' by that boy doesn't get old at all.

Once back inside, they let us stay and get first dibs on the standing room, which landed me front and center of the stage. This will be very, very important later.

So, standing up against the barricades for the show? Changes your entire perspective of it. This recap will not feature anything about the audience, as I didn't turn around to see behind me. Basically, being dead center about a foot away from the stage made the show consist of JC's facial expressions, his lovely, lissom body, and his feet (boy does some funky footwork! Usually, I'm just watching him from the crotch up.) Heck of a crick in my neck by the end of it, but what an experience. Speaking of which, there is a Moment in here, so the rest of the review will be a bit cursory, as the night is kind of hazy around that.

While we waited through the House of Blues pre-show music, I did a dramatic interpretation of the bridge to My Band for the girls, which seemed to amuse one and all.

A.D.I.D.A.S. - He had to check himself in relation to the edge of the stage several times during this song, he was so all over the place. One of the dancers' tearaway pants came undone just a few seconds after she came onstage, which made JC giggle like a loon, and probably in empathy, before she took care of the situation and tore them off, and everyone went on with the show.

She Got Me - There was plenty of room to move in the pit and consequently lots of dancing during all the songs. This track is just a good time, always, from the falsetto intro to the chorus, to JC pining after all the dancers in turn, to the whole idea of falling in love with an alien being just so him. "She could be hot!" Love that quote.

He warned us that this might not be what we're used to hearing if we're fans of *NSYNC - for which we cheered - but that it's his show and he's gonna do it his way - for which we cheered about twice as hard, and that was as it should be.

If You Were My Girl - He just continues to rock out harder and harder on this song, he really does. He likes doing the rock star thing, the jumping and swinging around the mic stand and screaming himself to orgasm. Uh, we don't object. *g*

One Night Stand - Such a fun song. I can see the joke, and he obviously enjoys himself and being the colossal dork that he is up there despite the pimp coat and horde of geniunely screaming women. Good times all around.

After throwing Lonnie (and how much do I love that he doubles as part of JC's wardrobe people in that respect?) his jacket and pants, he struck a Justin-Michael-reminiscent pose in the hat, before laughing and tossing it offstage, too. And see, this is a big thing I adore about him - he knows what he's about, and while he may have his moments of fancy, he doesn't pretend to walk a walk that's not his own. I'm such a dork for finding this endearing, but I do.

Build My World - He's made peace with the fact that he looks damn good in just that black tank top, which is well and good with me. Has everyone mentioned how beautifully emphatic he gets during this song? The intensity is interesting, given the tone of the song. It's probably the one most unlike its album incarnation. My favorite part remains the final ever-desperate repetitions of just say it, just say it, just say it, yeah. Makes my eyes sting and my heart break a little every time. Beautiful stuff.

Blowin' Me Up - I continue to adore the performance of this song, even if JC no longer rips off anyone's skirt. It's campy and fun and JC enjoys it so.much. And that right there pretty much sums up why I've been country-hopping to go to these shows - it's wonderful to watch the boy perform, just do what he loves and how much he loves to do it for us, something I feel you could sense a lot more now, with the tighter show and choreography than in December, when he was just getting his solo feet wet and we hadn't heard the record. The bridge still rocks harder than a rocking thing, and there's a part right before the last chorus where all the dancers are lined up at the front of the stage and JC busts out with this huge grin every time he steps up to take his place with them that's just special.

And now, please excuse Jules' recount of 'Come To Me' because JCheldherhandandsangtoherOMG, and really, no one should be expected to maintain proper decorum after that.

This song is, as a general rule, a delight to watch, and all the self-touching and pose-striking of the beginning Sunglasses at Night sample only gets better the closer one is to the action. A beautiful boy enjoying his body about three feet in front of you? Yes, we had found our zen place again.

Now, all the other nights this week, what he's done after I lie awake and masturbate is walk forward on the rest of the verse, go down on one knee at the edge of the stage and reach out toward the back of the room, just above the heads and hands of the people in the center for the second baby, here I come.

Not tonight, baby.

I don't now remember who said it, but she described it as "reaching with intent," and yeah, that's what he did. This stage was higher than at the other venues, almost eye-level to me in two-inch heels, which definitely cut into his hand-slapping during the course of the show - he would've overbalanced leaning that much. But here, he mimed the masturbating, walked toward the front of the stage...

Made eye contact with me as he got to the edge, went down on one knee and leaned forward to reach for my hand, taking and holding it as he sang baby, here I come right to me. I don't think I breathed the entire time. I remember all these arms to either side of me reaching out to touch him and screaming as he knelt there but not really registering any of it, as my world consisted of JC's hand, his eyes and the lyrics, which he may as well've been whispering in my ear for how far away the rest of the room seemed. He had my entire hand in his, which was strong, with bony knuckles and long fingers, his palm smooth and warm and only slightly sweaty despite the rest of him. He looked at me the whole time he sang and smiled before drawing away slowly, letting his fingers brush along my palm as he straightened up again.

So, yes.

I admit feeling special despite every single credo of the sane fangirl handbook, but the thing is, yeah, he may slap hands, but JC's not a toucher generally, and the fact that he sought me out and went intentionally for my hand - it's damn cool to be acknowledged, and beyond that, for him to make the move to touch? As someone else protective of her personal space, I understand stranger ambivalence and can't imagine how he deals with there being no real way not to touch strangers on a regular basis in his line of work. But in those some-odd seconds of Meet & Greet, he came away with an impression of me as someone mellow, safe, and special enough for him to make that moment happen.

Or you know, something. There still isn't very much that's rational about my reaction to the memory.

And then

sassygurl, who was standing right behind me, clutched my shoulder and squealed in my ear, and I had to take a few deep breaths to keep from doing the same before being able to turn to

coolwhipdiva next to me and settling for a good bout of muffled squeeing and spending the rest of the song in an endorphin stupor.

Let's Go Crazy - His running leap onto the stage from the wings lands him just a little farther to stage right every night. I'm thinking by Friday, Lonnie'll have to stand on that side to catch him from going over.

He got really into the "crazy" schtick afterward (it involves him saying that word and the drummer riffing on it), and the "sexy crazy" was accompanied by a very pleasing roll of the hips indeed.

Dear Goodbye - He had us do all the days go by and things get betters in the second chorus, and like Build My World, it's just beautiful to watch him get lost in the words, the emotions and history behind them.

Also, it ends with The Game Is Over, and I do not foresee a time in my life when watching him romp from one side of the stage to the other like a frenzied, caged animal, snarling the lyrics will ever, ever get old.

Everything You Want - I wonder if, as some have theorized, this song is (auto)biographical. He gets off some great lines - I want the love of my life as of yesterday and what's love and who needs it, anyway are both great moments, especially with the crowd screaming them right along with him.

Shake It - Oh, this song. The choreography, the kookiness, the slightly mad glint JC's eyes get. Yeah, I've learned to just sit back and soak this up because that's all it's about.

Right Here (By Your Side) - Yeah, okay, this song is growing on me. It's sweet! Otherwise unremarkable in choreography, but JC's cute with the dancers.

Some Girls - There were sparkly pants and a sheer black shirt. There was no-pretenses crotch-grabbing. There was lots of hip-thrusting and tongue. A right excellent summation of the show.

Sitting down was mostly an imperative after all that. The Mandalay Bay bar area had a lounge singer, and we made short work of requesting This I Promise You (it's by Shania Twain don'tchaknow), then rode up yet another private elevator (all this VIP treatment is gonna be troublesome when we have to return to the real world where, no, we don't go around affording penthouse suites and being on the list for clubs) to the Foundation Room on the 63rd floor. After soaking up a gorgeous cityscape of Vegas from the balcony and appropriating a corner of one of its fabric-walled, dimly-lit lounge rooms to talk for a bit, we decided to call it a night around 1:30 to peel our overexcited and exerted selves from the ceiling before the drive tomorrow.

But not before A,

coolwhipdiva, Schiz and I got in a last bit of dancing (shoes off this time, thank goodness), blasting Right There back in our hotel room for all the cast and crew who made the evening possible above us to hear. So much fun, man.

Current Mood: blissed
Current Music: do you have to ask?