Making my "Jo Bro Concert Survival Kit"

How are you gonna spend your Saturday night??

Me, I'm going to watch Jordyn Sparks and the Jonas Brother's!

Oh yeah...you're jealous. I know.

I could be in FL right now getting ready to hang out with the people that graduated from my high school (I can't believe it's been 15 years since I left that place...Go Tornado's). Instead I am creating a milestone in the mother daughter relationship I have with my two girls.

This is the first ever concert that I decided to take my kids to. I've taken my kids to the circus, plays and musicals...but no concerts. This is so not how I was raised. My mom started taking me to concerts when I was still in the womb. I cut my teeth with Carlos Santana, Three Dog Night and BB King. To be honest I think I had an unending contact high until I was nearly a year old. No wonder why my mom said I was such an easy child.

As time went on I weathered through Kenny Rogers...multiple times and was lugged from one outdoor music fest to another throughout my childhood and into my tween and teen years when all I really wanted to do was see New Kids on the Block, Debbie Gibson and Tiffany.

Today, however, will be the first concert that I have decided to partake in with my children and I chose the Jonas Brothers. WHAT....was I thinking? Oh, right I was thinking it was about the kids.

While this will mark the first ever concert for Han, Liv has been to a few concerts before with her dad. They are both excited but I have to admit Han takes the prize since she keeps coming in every so often to say, "Mom...do you know what today is? It's Jonas Brother's Day!".

Oh thank God she reminded me...I was worried I may forget. I mean it's so possible...not...that I might forget...not...especially seeing as I am putting out money that we don't have to buy these tickets and pay for a limo to make the experience "EXTRA SPECIAL". Yep, thanks Han...mommy was wondering why the day seemed fraught with anticipation.

Just a thought...but I wonder if they will think it's "EXTRA SPECIAL" when we are living by candle light and eating pb&j sandwiches for the next month.

But we did it. Jon agreed, every kid needs a special memory with their parents (notice how in previous sentences it is just me and the girls that are partaking in this "memory") and that sometimes you just gotta do it and worry about how it will affect finances later. Ummm....must take Xanax now to ward off anxious tendencies that come with spending money we don't have. Whew...that was close.

Side note...as me and the girls are enjoying our "special memory" moment...my beloved husband will be sitting back drinking one of the many Abita beers that is housed in our beverage refrigerator in the garage. Watching t.v. with no distractions...most likely in his boxers and cuddling with my dog. Lucky bastard!

Deep breath...feeling the effects of the sedative.

Okay...back to the concert preparations....

We are 3 hours away from leaving and now is the perfect time to get myself both mentally and physically prepared for the ear piercing screams that are going to befall my already partly diminished hearing (it all starts going down hill after 30) and the drama that always encompasses any night out with my girlfriends. It's like an ongoing episode of "Desperate Housewives". So here's what is in my survival kit:

Jonas Brother's Concert Survival Kit

The only surefire way to make sure you make it out alive without harming the squealing masses around you.

1. Hefty supply of Excedrin Migraine.
2. Ear plugs - you may want to hear the music, or not in this specific case, but this will drown out the crying fans.
3. Kleenex - you really don't want the kids snot on you after they cry over how much they "love them", "want to marry them", "want to date them", "want to runaway with them" and in the event there is not toilet paper (this is New Orleans anyways) you will be covered.
4. Gum - doesn't matter where you go or what you do, you ALWAYS need gum.
5. Fully charged cell phone - in case you get trapped by squealing masses you can phone a friend to come rescue you or better yet so you can FB or Twitter your time away.
6. Camera (preferably with ability to make video clips) - not to capture the "special moments" this is totally to capture the things that can be used as blackmail or YouTube clips (God I hope someone falls on stage).
   
7. Hand Sanitizer - I can't even begin to speculate at the amount of germs flowing around in this crowd.
8. Designated driver - for us tonight...it's a Limo...thank you Jesus!
9. Liquor - (but only if you have #8) if you've got the DD situation handled then my advice is a shot before, a drink while your there and one immediately after you get home!
10. Water - stay hydrated, this will allow you to escape to the serenity that is the bathroom.
11. Sedatives - if ya got em...take em!
    

I am all packed in a comfy over the shoulder bag...feels like I've gone back to the days of lugging around an infant with a diaper bag. Now I am off to play stylist to a 9 yr old (pictures to follow) and to prod the teen along in her 2 hour efforts to get ready. Apparently my gentle chiding of, "it's a concert, not a fashion show" are falling on def ears.

Even though I whine about this not being "my kind of thing" I know that they are both excited and I can't seem to shake the idea that I am too (maybe that is the sedative talking). This should be quite an experience.

~JP

What a waste of lip liner and lint roller!

With yesterday being a wash for anything remotely close to being labeled productive I had very high hopes for this 24 hours. To be honest after the gas pumping (see earlier post "Day like this make me wish I had a baby to blame") incident I was pretty sure that I had met my shit quota...I really need to take a page from my own blog and learn that I really must stop being optimistic!

I got out of my lollypop pants and wet boob shirt and changed into pants with buttons and a zipper, a crisp white short sleeve dress shirt and Granny Smith apple green vest. Oh yeah...I rocked the vest!

Put some product in the hair (think "ooh, la la, say ooh la la la la come on...ba ba ba ba ba") swept on some bronzer, cause I'm a little like Casper, used lip liner and lipstick with gloss and finally lint rolled the black dress pants I was wearing. Nothing says don't hire me like wearing a coat of dog hair...unless of course you are trying to get a job at a veternarian's office which in that case I'd say rock on with the pet hair!

I gathered up the resume and made my way to a local pediatrician's office. Dear God I hope they don't Google me...they may find out that I don't really even like kids...especially my own!

I walk in and the place is crawling with snot nosed kids. Yum! I made my way over toddlers and toys to the front desk where I was met by two of the most unfriendly individuals that I think I've ever met at a perspective job. Then comes the standard job application.

Sometimes I find myself silently laughing at some of the things that they will put on these things. This one was no different. I was shocked at how little space was given to list previous employment. I really feel bad for anyone who doesn't bring a resume. I seriously had barely enough space to write "please see resume". But the internal giggle kicked into overdrive when I turned over to the back section and saw that literally half the sheet was left open for you to list "hobby or interest that would help you in this position". WTF??

You leave barely any room to list previous work experience but you want a full out essay in regards to my hobbies?? Someone isn't playing with a full deck! I had to resist writing out, "loves long walks and dancing in the rain".

I left that section blank because I honestly didn't trust myself to even lie. I went to return the application and was asked if I minded having my picture taken. I was like....huh? What? I just half smiled and nodded my head. I didn't know if I should smile, be serious...strike the standard MySpace rock-n-roll pose...so many choices. I went with semi stunned and half hearted smile. This place had begun to creep me out and I haven't even been interviewed.

Thankfully that will wait for another day when it was announced that all the doctors were running to far behind and they would need to reschedule the interview segment. I thanked them and climbed over more toddlers and toys on my way out.

That has to be one of the most bizarre moments I have had in filling out an application.

I am back at home. In my comfy clothes sans lip liner with hair in a pony tail. Ahhhhhh....sanctuary!

~JP

Oh the pain.

Every month I get a painful reminder of how I should get my ass up and go to the gym. No it's not the increasing difficulty I have in wearing pants that have zippers and buttons. It's the automatic draft of our gym membership. It's the nagging financial reminders that motivate me the most right now. In these lean times of mommy's nervous breakdown and not making any money that we truly have to be concious of paying for something and getting nothing in return. How depressing? I really think that when you sign up for a gym membership you should automatically lose 10 lbs monthly when they withdrawl the fees. Kind of like a reward just for making the effort of thinking about working off your fat ass.

So today marked the first day of hitting the gym. Again. Yes it's a repeated endeavor that hasn't stuck yet. Here's hoping that the 27th time is the charm.

Apparently since I have been there, in 2008...like early 2008...they have made some changes. The first change is they have finally realized that leaving the front open and not having someone man the desk is an open invitation to non paying individuals to come in and work out for free. No not me...but I'm just saying that if I had wanted to be smart and save some money I could have. But I am stupid and I'd like to just pay money for services that I don't use except for when I have been guilted into it by people who shall remain nameless.

The next change I noticed was a huge half walled off area that my gym buddy who I half guilted into coming with me said she called the "circle of death". To be honest I don't remember the actual name of it but after spending a grueling 15 minutes (don't laugh) rocking (yes all the equipment rocks) and lifting weights we've affectionately renamed it "Disney World of Pain". We also find it completely hysterical that there is a light that says "coached" that lights up in red on the circular sign that strangely resembles the Krispy Creme doughnut sign. Cruel? I think so. Funny? Hell yes.

We did our circuit training in the "uncoached" version which was probably best since we never made it higher than #3 on the weights and we couldn't stop laughing at our pure ineptitude when it comes to working out. We were shown up by an 80 year old man. So sad, but made us laugh even more because it reminded us of our last venture into working out together when we took a water aerobics class and we were showed up by 60 year old woman in the pool that kept telling us to go towards the shallow end so we wouldn't drown.

Finally as we went from cardio to the women's fitness room and then finally ending in the "Disney World of Pain" I noticed that they have installed flat panel televisions randomly on walls around the gym. They aren't playing television shows or the news...nope they are advertising the gym.

Ummmm...am I the only one that thinks this is completely ridiculous?

We're here.

We've got the membership.

What the fuck else do you have to sell us?

I watched it randomly throughout the close to 2 hours (yes feel free to applaud...we were quite proud of ourselves too) that we were there working out and learned absolutely nothing new about the gym other than the fact that they offer a dance class that looks a little like a rave. My gym buddy tells me that it's a lot of fun but that they are making it look way cooler than it really is.

Great they install tv's to falsely advertise classes that they offer...I fucking love this place. I've been falsely advertising myself for years.

I'm hoping that I make it back again tomorrow. I've learned in the past that planning ahead is SO NOT my method. I'm more of a fly by the seat of my depression kind of girl. Thankfully I have a partner in crime in that depth of darkness I reside in. Most women talk about going to the gym after they bring the kids to school, her and I talk about how we could most likely fit in working out at around 2 o'clock in the morning in between depressive breakdowns, eating brownie batter, planning how long we can actually go without showering and trying to rework our resume's so that we can get new jobs that we will plan to quit. God I love her!

Now that I am home and reeking of sweat I'm feeling really invigorated. I texted my husband because I felt I deserved to be congratulated for something I should have been doing for the past few years. Thankfully he obliged because if he didn't I am pretty sure I would have reverted to curling up into fetal position, covered in sweat and blaming lack of support for my reason to never return to the gym again.

Then attempt #27 would be a wash and I'd be back to stretchy pants. Full body shiver...dear God say it ain't so!

~JP