Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Rock Star Syndrome
Hello my little pumpkins...
No, I haven't been eaten by the blogging fairies, I've just merely been busy and have decided long ago I don't want this thing to feel like a job. But just in case I do get eaten by the blogger fairies QofD knows the wonders that they hold and may be able to get in touch with them if I do go missing for too long.
So now that my excuse is out of the way... ON WITH THE POST!!! (I imagine saying that on a horse in the wild west, with a red prairie dress and an awesome gun holster strapped to my thigh - ooooh... it starting to sound like one of my favorite movies, Romancing the Stone.)
So I went to this show in town and I didn't know any of the bands. That was fine, but what made it so cool was that one of my favorite local artist was there hanging out with his friends. I've been to his shows and talked to him a bit but wouldn't you know it, my fucking 13 year old self came out and decided it was ok to just stand around him but never introduce myself. I just watch like a weird stalker and tried to muster up the courage to talk to him all night. I'm such a freaking looser sometimes. I mean, how hard is it to go up to a person and say, "Hey, will you have my babies?" Haha... (I'm actually laughing out loud) Ok - so maybe I just wanted to say, "Remember me? I shook your hand after one of your shows..." and of course he would be like, "Oh, yeah!! You're the one who shook my hand with MEANING. I remember. So what are you doing on Friday?" Haha.... (I'm totally laughing out loud again because I think I'm sooooo funny) So, what is the deal with rock stars anyway? What makes them so god damn cool that even a 13 year old girl like me can't even say hi? It's like they have this super-duper force field around them of girlfriends and rock star buddies that surround them like Britney Spears' sexy body guards.
So I came to the end of the night with the sad realization that if it doesn't happen, it wasn't meant to be. I'm not going to force a San Diego rock star to talk to me just so I can brag to my friends that we are now dating. (Obviously if you talk to a rock star then you are dating them) So I left the club sad and sappy like Herbie (Gregg's dog) but I stand tall when I say, "I stood behind the coolest musician in SD."
So, I'll just go on in my little, un-famous life and dream of all the babies - I mean, dogs - we could have together while we tour the world in a luxury tour bus with our own Mariachi band that sings us to sleep every night.
La, la, la, la....
(Oh - and I would put a link to his website but just in case we start dating, I don't ever want him to read this and know I was talking about him. Haha... I love living in the fantasy world of wine and blogging)