Little White Lie

Okay, I admit it. The post before this one was a smoke screen, a weak attempt to convince myself that my relationship with Facebook was more akin to a giddy coffee date than a gluttonous multi-day orgy but orgy it was. I don’t actually linger there like a ne'er do well barfly but do check in possibly 20 times a day for a quick fix, a social bump, if you will. In my opinion, that’s over-commitment when there are other, more important activities to be done…like blogging (“Dear mom, I’m so sorry I made you look at that picture of those green cupcakes for so many days.”). So I’m solemnly swearing to fewer daily voyeuristic activities on Facebook and more engagement with the family, the pet, and the world around me in real time. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it.

My SXSW exposure was minimal this year, a stark contrast to when I once worked for the man behind the giant curtain of the conference. I didn’t see or do much but it was really just enough. Tuesday night we embraced our friends from Spain as their energy and enthusiasm engulfed us at Vino Vino. We sang, danced and drank bubbly until after midnight. W thought it appropriate timing to come down with a cold/cough/allergy-type bug that kept us home the rest of the week so for once I got plenty of rest, was hangover free and the bank account remained intact. Plus the Hubs got mucho attention as he bounced from gig to gig to gig while working like a rock n roll hound dog. Laundry got done, meals were on the table and the coffee crutch was delivered bedside in the mornings. Saturday was a double dip as the band played two shows and the kiddo and I saddled up for a full day of rock n roll hoochie cooin’. It was great to be back in the fray. W is well versed in the art of backstage etiquette and took to it like a duckling to water. Here, now, is a photo essay of the day…

Doesn't get much cheesier than this...
























On the hunt for the backstage catering like a baby shark...























"This is called a keg. You will appreciate this later in life."























Never too early to learn how to string a guitar.



















W misses the entire first show. This was good for his attitude later tho'.























Backstage at the San Jose. Great evening!



















"Hey, someone get that kid away from me. Scaaaaaaary."


















* Dear Bloggerdotcom, why do you have to be such a turd site? I've been trying to upload pictures for like EVER and now you're not letting me upload any more at all. What gives? Do you need a lap dance? Yours, K

Ringo Moon

This is getting serious. He even does those weird mouth ticks when he gets in a groove.

Fun, Fun, Family Fun!

Holy hell! Where have I been? We did an event yesterday in Georgetown so Monday and yesterday were all consumed with those details. The weekend was packed full of family time and almost in the “that is too much quality time” sorta way.

Saturday, we packed up the car and headed out of town to see the Hubs perform. Baby and I totally rocked out. It was the first show W had seen the Hubs play with this particular band and the kid fell into the groove like he was a roadie or something. I worried that he wouldn’t wear his ginormo 70’s style safety headphones to keep the volume turned down in his little ears but he wore them like a champ. He yelled, “Daddie, dittar!” and “Yeayyyyyy!” and high fived the sound guy like they toured together in a past life or something. Bling Bling drove in with her fab son to catch the show. We got shunted up into the balcony seats for a private perspective of the show. That’s always a good thing b/c most of the fans are weirrrrrrrd. I handed W over to Bling and he immediately passed out in her comfy, warm arms.

Our room happened to be the awesome grand suite of this old, haunted hotel and it was totally paid for by the promoter. After the show, I turned in with a sleepy baby in my arms. As I wrestled for the key to unlock the door, a girl came up behind me, her energy a bit charged in the negative direction. I said hello and the smirk on her face barely unfolded as she replied with a “Hey.” As she entered her room I heard her yell out, “This is NOT the grand suite. This is a petite suite and I swear…” and her voice drifted off as she slammed the door. She was part of a wedding party and obviously not happy with her lodging situation. I grinned to myself as I stepped in and locked the door behind. It’s cool to be a rock star’s wife, oh yes it is.

Everyone slept late the next morning, a clear indication to me that the Hubs had partied pretty late and W was getting sick. Check and check. We had plans to meet Gogo and Richard at the zoo and when we got there, the place was just coming alive. We made a beeline to see the monkeys to avoid a later crowd crush and the idea paid off hugely. As we approached the habitat for the silverback gorilla, we saw the male sitting all alone in a clearing sunning himself. He saw us and lumbered very slowly over on all fours and rested his massive frame against the 4 inches of glass that separated us. We all got down to his level and were truly awestruck by his brilliance, size and beauty. He splayed out like an Amazonian ruler waiting for someone to peel him a banana. His eyes looked at us unconcerned and calm. We all silently took in the moment until a family came along and the gorilla rose and walked away. The Hubs and I were very moved by the encounter but it also made us very sad for him and the plight of his diminishing species.

We ran amok for a few hours, dodging the clusters of gawkers and eating really bad food. It was crucial to our plan to make sure the departure home revolved around W's naptime and to make it back in time to hook up with some friends for paella, vino and toddler rompin’. We arrived a tad late but totally enjoyed the visit at their lovely home. We cherish CaCa and her parents and look forward to much more commingling.

P.S. As I assumed W is illin’ again, another bi-monthly germ warfare courtesy of his school, the Growing Spore. He had to come home early Monday but hopefully he can return tomorrow or the Hubs is going to divorce us.

Holiday Week In Review

I’m going to write this one in reverse. It’s easier to pry out the historical content in the crevasses of my holiday soaked brain that way.

Today, I went to the gym. Day one. The beginning of the reversal of all that is baby fat. I slogged through a 30-minute cardio workout of make believe snowshoeing in Snoqualmie Pass on the elliptical machine. I barely made it and was disappointed that I couldn’t do the intended 40 minutes but at least I was there getting the heart rate above 20 BPM. I had an hour to myself at home to shower, dress and eat breakfast before work and, folks, it was TOTAL BLISS. Earlier, the Hubs had left the house to take W to school so I was completely alone. Alone, as in my hot tea stayed hot ‘til the bottom of the cup, I was able to put on all pieces of clothing at once without staggering around the house in single items during infantile interruptions, and I even had time to make the bed so tonight, I get to turn down the covers like a lady instead of burrowing my way in like a badger. This will be a four times a week event and I feel like I have won the lottery…sorta.

Yesterday, I went to the outlet mall in San Marcos. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. The last time I was there, you could experience the whole retail raping in just a matter of hours. Then it was just a handful of shops but now it’s larger than several football fields and the loot is crap. And wasn’t I supposed to save some major dough on said crap? I also found that designers like Giorgio Armani would probably change their name if they saw the condition of their stores and the crap on the shelves. Surely this stuff was never on his drawing board or even part of a frustrated doodle he penned. Ugh. I had a list of shops to visit but after having to walk what seemed like miles and periodically move my car so it didn’t feel like I was hiking to Japan, I decided I’d had enough. Nobody should put themselves through that much retail H-E-double L. Never again.

New Years Eve. I stayed home while the Hubs played a gig. I tried to live vicariously through the gay duo that live in the townhouse behind us. They were throwing a little shindig. Every so often I’d peek out the window in hopes of spying some wild chandelier swinging in the buff but the whole thing was as boring as a Catholic mass. Buzz killers.

The always fun and painfully talented Small Stars opened for the legendary Joe Ely at Gruene Hall last Saturday. I enlisted Miss Jo to take care of W so I could partner up with my old college roomie and her fab husband for a night out of town for a few hours. Jen, the roomie, has kept her wonderfully sassy spirit despite being married for 10 years and raising a 4 and 5-year-old. She cusses like a sailor and drinks like a fish while maintaining a certain girlish poise and femininity. Oh, and she’s quite the Martha Stewart in the crafts department. Martha with a piping bag in one hand and a bottle of vino in the other.

We spent some of the holidays in Laredo with the mom-in-law. Thankfully she lives nowhere near El Chapo and his drug cartel. We stayed close to home and soaked up the extended fam. The Hubs and I ventured out briefly one day to get a coffee and go to the bookstore but when you ask someone where the bookstore is, they look at you suspiciously and tell you there is no bookstore. No, wait…there’s one at the mall. Evidently there’s not much reading going on in that border town and in her all knowing, blunt way, the mom-in-law confirmed it to be true.

Santa left some gifts for W under the tree and we got the whole scene of confusion and surprise on video. Santa knew the little sprout was wild about cars, trucks, and construction vehicles so now our house looks like a miniature impounding lot and it’s only a matter of time before one of us breaks our necks.

Speaking of W, he’s still growing too fast. He’s talking up a storm, understanding all we say and amazing us with his problem solving skills and when those fail, replacing them with some mad tantrums skilz. Thankfully, they usually only erupt when he’s trying to do something with a car or train or truck and we don’t have anything to do with it. Occasionally, a vehicle goes soaring through the air and we just juke and jive to avoid injury. On the super duper plus side, he’s totally in to giving major hugs and open-mouthed kisses all the time lately. He grips you like a sumo wrestler on the face or head and comes at you like a hungry animal, mouth agape. It’s the best milestone yet.

Well, that’s all I can remember for now. Seemed difficult trying to blog with so much family stuff going on but now that the routine is back, so am I.

Happy New Year all!

Ain't No Fun

I know this isn’t a news flash but being married to a musician is HARD, people. I know marriage in general is challenging but when you add to that two bands, tons of rehearsals, a musical in progress (why?) and more rehearsals, traveling, evening engagements, conflicting schedules and, in my case, an artist with a defective domestic gene and you’ve got an interesting situation on your hands. Yeah, I sorta knew what I was getting in to but I guess I didn’t read all of the small print before signing off.

So frustrating and hard.

(Zenbetty, I have misinformed you.)

Bogger

It’s a “bog you down” kinda week, folks. Days and nights are filled to the brim with family, work and friends so I guess I’m bogged in a good way, just no time to blog about the bog. Plus we’re all still reeling from the bug that W brought into our lives almost 3 weeks ago. Keeps our energy levels on the low end of the gas tank and at night we all fall into bed completely expended. Is this madness ever going to end? I’ve heard that all of the other classes in W school are down to very few little people as they swap and share the scourge. Might be a vicious cycle for many months to come. I could go home right now and call it a day already.

Went to see the Rolling Stones last Sunday with 42,000 other people and it was a great show. My sis-in-law (who is also trying to kick W’s bug) lives close to the park where they performed so we were able to hike the short distance instead of dealing with the traffic and parking nightmares. The Hubs, his drummer (who flew in from Boulder, CO on his day off on another tour in progress with Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians), and I stood within yards of the stage for some great perspectives on the aging rock star royalty. I encountered a couple who were Nazis about the crowd behind them slowly ebbing closer to the stage like their soiled blanket that’s been on the ground for five hours and consequently considered to be their valuable piece of real estate is their license to bitch. News flash…when the headliner hits the stage, all bets are off. My back and legs ached as I stood there mesmerized by the energy and stamina of Mick. There were plenty of tasteful pyrotechnics and fireworks and at the very end of it all Mr. Jagger muttered into the mic, “No expense spared” in his delicious British accent.

On another rock n roll note, the Hubs’ new record is done and we’re now looking for a label to take it to the platinum level. It is AMAZING and a recorded testament of his incredible talent as a musician and songwriter. This gem is going to get us that little chateau in the south of France. Oh, yes, it is.

On the office front, we’re already kicking some serious ass for the next conference season. Last year (which is technically this year, just last March) we executed 68 parties in 9 days. We’re already up to 52 parties booked and it’s only October. How are we going to do it, you query? Crystal meth and lots of it.