snuggie up

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In just two days, I will don a snuggie in public. Yes, I will. This is not a joke.

My husband and I are attending Roanoke's first Snuggie Bar Crawl this Saturday. Though I have never been bar crawling before, I'm looking forward to it. Maybe it is just because I can't wait to document a bunch of strangers making fools of themselves while wrapped in hideous blankets. Maybe it's because we're actually getting a whole night sans kids. Maybe it's because we're going to end the evening at a comedy show.  Or, maybe it is because I get to try to fashion my pepto-bismol pink snuggie into something I might actually want to wear.

image source

I'm thinking about cutting off the sleeves, shortening the garb to cocktail-length, and sewing up the back.  Maybe cutting a v-neck, or going for a more modest faux-v with the help of some ruffles.  Then again, I'm afraid I'll get cold, so maybe some 3/4 sleeves would be better?  We are going to be "crawling" from one location to the next, and I don't really want to take a coat.  I don't want to wear anything too short or too flashy, lest I be mistaken for a rather large, unsuccessful street-walker.  Or, Lady Gaga.  I think there's a fine line here.  I need to find it, stat.

gaga for gaga

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All I wanted for my birthday was Lady Gaga tickets.  You know what?  I got them!  All right, I knew I had them months in advance, but that didn't make me any less excited.  In fact, I was wiggling in my seat when I clicked "buy" on ticketmaster or whatever that website was.  Electronically waiting in line for tickets to a concert you HAVE to see?  So worth it.


I bought the tickets back in May, I think, the day they went on sale.  Not just the day, the hour, the minute, as soon as I possibly could because I was going to be at that concert.  Now, I'm not the type of Gaga fan who can sing all of her songs, including those that haven't been radio hits, like my friend Jannine, but I like her.  A lot.  The hair, the costumes, the upbeat dance music.  Lady Gaga is just a big bundle of fun. 

Over dinner and drinks one night, I revealed to Jannine that I was going to the concert with Mr. Hull.   She just about flipped out!  Oh my goodness, if that girl could have screamed any louder, she would've (and she did, but we'll get to that later).

Fast forward a few months.  It is the day before the concert and I have a dumb mommy moment (I promise I'm not really a blonde.)  John is suddenly unable to attend the concert, because he is dealing with contractors, insurance adjusters, headaches, and more.  Less than 24 hours before Lady Gaga is set to take the stage, I call up Jannine to see if she might want to accompany me.  Wouldn't you know, she doesn't answer the phone.  The girl is fortunate that I left a message. The next day, we hit the road as soon as she gets off from work, drive two hours to UVA, and wait in a line a gazillion people long to get into the venue.

going all out

Oh my gosh, I had no idea that fans dressed up to attend the Monster Ball.  The costumes ranged from fantastic to horrific.  One lady in front of us had a dried up plant pinned to her head and was wearing a nineties-era sparkly clingy blouse with roses, leaves, and sequins, that was paired with a long black skirt and matronly heels.  On the other end of the spectrum, there were many Gaga-lookalikes, decked out in her most famous costumes.  Of course, you had your gays, too.  We saw men decked out in full-body leotards, short skirts, high heels, and complete make-up.  And, you know what?  Some of their outfits were better executed than those of their female counterparts.  I felt like I was attending a way-out-there viewing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The concert itself was superb!  The costumes, choreography, sets, and all were fabulous.  At one point, Gaga wore a UVA t-shirt that a fan made just for her.  Even though I am neither a Wahoo or a Hokie, even I could appreciate the awesomeness of that, though she did claim that wearing cotton was "against her religion."

I don't care how many of my mommy friends think I'm a weirdo, the next time Lady Gaga performs around here, I plan to go back.  This time, though, Janine and I'll be decked out in our finest.  I'm thinking glitter, spandex, a tutu, and some sort of fun hair accessories should do the trick.  You never know, I might just find a fun gay friend to go along with us, too.

Love Games

Paparazzi Finale

Birthday Blues

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Today's my birthday, so Happy Birthday to me.  I'm a little down in the dumps because everyone else seems to have an opinion on how I should celebrate my day.  Really, all I wanted was to bake a delicious cake and have an easy dinner in tonight.  Nothing big.  Now, don't get me wrong.  It isn't that I didn't want to acknowledge my birthday.  It's just that, at Katie's age, it is much easier to eat at home than to go out to a restaurant and drop a lot of money on a meal that nobody gets to enjoy.

Nor did I want to have a boring birthday.  I wanted to do something with my kids today, something that maybe we don't always get to do, and have a little fun.  Maybe we would go someplace they like to go... a museum, or Chuck E. Cheese, or even just the park.  I had even thought about taking them to one of the state parks to have a picnic and go swimming.  We could do something to make a memory.

But, then I found out that my mother was taking today off from work.  Why?  I have no idea.  She's done this for the past few years, and always expects me to be magically free to do whatever she wishes.  It isn't like she ever took off when I was a kid.  Why now?

So, my mother started insisting that I couldn't have a carefree birthday.  I couldn't just stay in.  I couldn't bake my own cake.  I couldn't not go out to dinner.  She said that my husband was being lazy by not celebrating on my birthday.  In actuality, we have our own, pricey celebration planned to take place in a week and a half that she knows about.  All of a sudden, my nice, fun, yet relaxing day turned into my mother's project.  I would bring the kids over at the ass-crack of dawn and we would all spend the day at her pool, a typical summer event and one that really bores me.  Then, tonight, we would go to a very popular, crowded restaurant that doesn't take reservations and is out of our current budget given the fact that we are spending so much to drive to Charlottesville to see Lady Gaga in 10 days.  We would have to wait in a line to get in, outside, in the heat, with an already-cranky almost-two year old.  And then, more than likely, my husband and I would get to foot the bill after she had planned and insisted on the outing.  Remember, I want to stay in for dinner.

 This morning, I got up, called my mother, and essentially told her to go fuck off.  I'll have the day that I want to have.  I shouldn't be expected to drop everything just because she takes the day off from work.  At the very least, she should be willing to go along with plans I've already made, even if they are vague.  It's my birthday.  I'll do what I want to.

Now, I feel like a giant ass.  I wouldn't want my children feeling this way on their birthdays when they are adults.  I would want to see them and be involved.  But, what can I do?  If my mother is involved, she tends to take over.  I'm a grown woman.  I don't need rescuing.