2006-05-26

Yes, pain. You try hours in high helled sandals that are reasonably comfortable... but only for the first few hours. (High helled? I think I'll keep it. It seems fitting somehow as these shoes later contribute to my drunken demise)

I guess it all started Sunday, when I got a call from Bobby Bennett... who many of you only know as "Copacabana Guy." Poor Bobby. Even when people recognized him, a lot of people just shouted "Hey! Copacabana!" Of course, I can't feel too sorry for him. When people recognized me it was all "Hey! Escalator!"

Ahem. Anyway... Bobby calls me and tells me that we are going to the finale both nights. Having just come off a week of Krazy K's drunken ER visits and troublesome compulsive lying, I am very into this. I'm hoping to see, most of all, the other contestants-- but without the red tape surrounding them at the previous results shows I went to. It will be like a reunion. A reunion with sane people who have the same lofty goals as I. We'd all sit around and drink Product-placed Cola Floats and laugh about times past... you know, that week and that day when we all became BFF, heart shape, blah-blah...

Well, no. I knew that wouldn't happen. I was just hoping to see some folks I'd got to know, especially Ms. Kinnik (didn't see her), Heather (nope. Not her either), and Mandisa (Well, I saw her).

Tuesday:

Grabbed Bobby on the way and we went to Hollywood and Highlands to get our tickets. Might I mention that I had not slept the night before. Not because I was just dying over going to the show. I'm not that obsessive. I just tend to pull random all-nighters when something grabs me. This time, it was a movie script I was reading. I was all into it and read it three times then said all of the character's lines aloud. It got me so pumped... Not important. This is supposed to be about Idol. Damn me.

Due to a misunderstanding, Bobby didn't have two tickets for both nights. He had two tickets for the results show. Oh, well. We'd live.

Went to Johnny Rockets for lunch where I dominated the nickel juke box, holding every customer there at my mercy. Some little girl recognized us and asked to have a picture with us. Aw!

We saw Ayla Brown and her mother. I guess they had a craving for sandwiches that don't come with fries as well. We chatted a bit. Before we could leave, some people recognized Bobby and Ayla and asked for pictures. Later they noticed me. But their noticing me consisted of saying "Hey, you were on the show! You fell!" Then they kind of pointed and laughed, taking me directly back to my days at St. Laurence Grade School. I'm not sure if they meant to unpleasantly regress me. But that was the result. I'm neurotic.

Mr. Bennett had a hankering to do some tourist crap, which I'm not into. I stood off to the side, took a pic or two for him, smoked too much (I do that when I'm overtired- just because I'm hoping that the fear of burning myself will keep me alert) and annoyed him by calling him Mr. Bennett in my best Allison Steadman voice. He really should move out here and hang with me more often. I could have an all-day P&P quote-a-thon.

Bobby got on the horn and tried to squeeze out two tickets for that night's show, but without luck. A few more people bugged him for pictures. A few more people bugged me--- nt for pictures, just by saying "Escalator." Argh! Why does that have to be my defining moment? I so hope I get that part in that movie with the fatty nude scene. I'd rather be known for flashing my stretch marks than for the damn escalator.

Anyway, it was hot. We got bored. We left. On the way back, I amused Bobby by pretending to be a pissed off, drunk Courtney Love (like there's any other kind) whenever someone cut me off on the freeway. Good times.

Yeah. That was kind of all there was to that day.

To be continued....

Just for the record, people found this blog while searching for these phrases:

"sexy phrases" --- if they're looking for ways to attract mates, they've come to the wrong girl. I've never mastered flirting.

"preteen fantasies" --- Ugh!

"retro girl" --- they found Preteen April's diaries. I really should continue them. There's two more volumes to be resurrected and lots more idiotic poems.