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Got out of work at 3:00 and barreled home to get dressed. Had an outfit picked out--black satin Chinese-style dress with intermittent floral print, thigh-high black stockings and strappy heels. I mussed my hair, found some makeup to match the flowers,spritzed on some Dolce Vita, and headed out.

I landed a primo parking spot for free and hiked up the hill to the venue proper. I passed by some VIPers and overheard part of the soundcheck, but soundchecks get a little frustrating to listen to since they're prone to start and then stop in a flurry of check-one-twos. I thought about circumnavigating the venue to see if I could hook up with anybody I knew, but knowing that VIPs were gathering (and having them only remind me of a Certain Drama Queen) just put me off the idea. Instead, what with the sky still looking a little moody, I retreated to my car, rolled down the windows, put on some Paul Melançon and wrote stuff on little tiny scraps of paper since my catbook was MIA.

My muse rose from the depths and smacked me around a bit for neglecting her. I asked myself many questions and wrote my way to the answers. As I shifted in my seat one more time in this unforgiving satin dress, more questions came to mind:

Why am I dressed like this?
Who am I trying to impress?
What was the point of this anyway?

I stabbed my key into the ignition and pulled out of my space. I might miss the acoustic set they were going to be playing for Star 94 winners, but I didn't care. I burrowed my way through five o'clock traffic, returned home, peeled off the satin and lacy underthings and put on a black skirt, my Duran Duran T-shirt from the Big Thing tour, (the first Duran show I ever went to, actually) black socks and my trusty Converse. Glamour be damned; comfort was my lover now.

I also remembered this time to pick up the book I'd been using to track my adventures for the past several tours, and stuffed a couple of pens in my purse so people could write in it.

So I made my way back and found my parking space was, naturally, gone, but I found a tight little parallel parking space right across the street from it and worked my way into it. (Years of living at Lake Claire had trained me well.) So, refreshed and still well-parked, I made my way into the venue.

I grabbed a Rio T-shirt and made my way to the seat I'd gotten on eBay for more than I'd like to admit. Was it worth it? Oh, my, yes. Right next to the stage, but a few rows above the crowd so I could see over everything. The downside was a stack of speakers utterly blocked Roger from my view. Bummer. But I could see everybody else just fine, including Nick. I planted my umbrella on the seatback and went in search of free drinks. There was a wine tasting in the Sun Room, so I had a tiny glass of red wine and decided against anything else. People in VIP passes were hovering in clumps, leaving me to suspect this is where the VIP party was.

I ran into Jenny as I was going out, met her husband and got him to sign my book. He drew little stick figures of the band members and even had them in the proper positions on the stage. He appeared to be well-trained.

Simon wandered out onstage for a moment and the crowd went nuts. He wandered back off and people who hadn't been there were told by those who had what they'd just missed.

The opening act was called Stimulator, and they were Not Too Bad. The lead singer had a quirky fashion sense that didn't quite match her flowing blond-streaked hairstyle, but maybe in L.A. it makes sense. Simon sat on the side of the stage and clapped along to some of the songs, so it seems he dug them.

I went to visit froofie and we hugged and howdied and touched base about meeting after the show. She wanted to go to a certain hotel bar, so I said I might meet her there, though I was also leaning toward grabbing some food at the Landmark Diner.

I returned to my seat, because somebody I didn't recognize was sitting in Laurel's seat. As I got there, I realized that I did recognize her--it was Cathy, a former roommate of mine and fellow Tender Idols fanatic. She and Laurel had swapped seats. We caught up on what we'd been up to until the show threatened to start. They played that heartbeat for what seemed like an eternity until they finally got their asses out there and kicked into "Sunrise."

I'm terrible at describing shows because I'm too busy experiencing them. They played "New Religion", which was awfully nice of them, and they didn't bother to play "The Reflex", which was even nicer. During "Come Undone", Cathy whipped out her trusty bubble gun and handed me a vial of wedding bubbles. I happily went at it. Chastain as a venue is not one of my favorites, but it's great for bubbles because the air currents carry them everywhere. As the bubbles drifted around John's head, he looked up suddenly with a "What the heck is this?" look on his face and then he looked over to where we were, saw us, and grinned. (Simon had more of an "Oh, shit, this again!" look on his face, but who cares.)

They didn't play "White Lines" but you can't have everything. They ended on "Rio", Andy Hamilton played sax (yay!) and the show was over. I gathered my things and Cathy and I made our way over to where Laurel was.

We agreed to rendezvous at a certain hotel bar and I made my way back to the car to meet them there. As I entered my car, somebody remarked on my shirt and I told them its vintage. They were impressed.

I got to the hotel, parked, got a White Russian at the bar and then got a phone call that everybody was going to another hotel--this time the one that froofie would be at. So I gave my White Russian away to a lady who'd remarked upon it at the bar and went up the street to The Other Hotel.

At The Other Hotel, I found Kim and her sister Kristen ensconced at a table and I went to the bar for a White Russian and joined them. They'd been placed at the back of beyond by Star 94 and the acoustic session had been a bust, but Roger did sign Kim's "I'm With The Drummer" T-shirt (and corrected the drumkit from Pearl to Tama.)

I hung and chatted with people and eventually the Duran boys showed up. John was in a prickly mood and didn't want to sign things, so I didn't hassle him with the book. Instead I quietly asked "Can I shake your hand?" and he did. Simon was flirting with Laurel and her sister, so I said howdy, shook hands, and didn't bother him with the book either since, as I pointed out to him, he'd already signed it.

A few moments later I go over to see Simon flirting with Kim and her sister. I mock-sulked to Kim that Simon flirts with all of my friends but never flirts with me. Simon shot me a look that was just this side of a sneer. I've learned not to expect much from him.

I did get Roger to sign my book, though that's all he did to it. He, Simon and Nick all went to the hotel restaurant and sat at a long table with a number of blondes, while Dave kept an eye on things.

I caught Nick just as he was going into the restaurant and thanked him for a good show. "How are you?" he asked, as if he genuinely wanted to know. (Did he? I have no real way of knowing.) "Getting better all the time." I told him. "Good." he said. And then: "I like your shirt!" just before he walked away.

*squeeeeeeeeeeeeee!*

Some people sat near the table and watched them eat, I mostly drifted back and forth between Kim and Laurel and others. Laurel was talking to Ana (Ross?) the backup singer and Mr. Andy Hamilton and I got them to write in my book as well. Roger drifted up and I invited him to finish the page he'd signed on, but he declined.

Eventually, the table broke up and I went up to Nick to try and tell him something. I met a pal of his who I think I've actually met before at a party at Peter Conlon's house (long story) but he didn't seem to recall me. I finally caught up with Nick and told him what I'd wanted to say--that I was getting off of the antidepressants ("Good." he said) and that during my undiagnosed adolescence, Duran Duran was my antidepressant. I wish I could remember his exact words--when Nick is talking to me, my brain kinda shuts down a bit and goes "Wow! He's actually talking to me!"--but he said that he felt very strongly about medication and that if you can do without it, you should. I gave him a good night hug, whispered "Thank you so much" into his ear and left on a high note. Jenny boggled at me that I was leaving when there were still Durans about, but I told her "It can't get any better than what I just had."

So I drove home in the wee smalls of the morning and listened to Nick Drake's Pink Moon all the way.

And that was that.

Comments

( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
staybeautiful
Jul. 24th, 2005 10:06 pm (UTC)
gave him a good night hug, whispered "Thank you so much" into his ear and left on a high note.
awwww.
noir
Jul. 24th, 2005 10:10 pm (UTC)
Wow
I'm incredibly jealous
silverpoppet
Jul. 24th, 2005 11:06 pm (UTC)
I was right there...
Hi, we've never met but I was right on the same row as you for the concert. One person separated us...your friend I think. After reading your post, I remembered what you were wearing. Another person from the boards, cool!
nightwhtofstars
Jul. 25th, 2005 12:56 am (UTC)
I think
you did a great job keeping all that experience straight and coherent! I love reading everyone's tales of fun and festivity.

(Anonymous)
Jul. 25th, 2005 03:33 am (UTC)
Re: I think
YAY!
So happy to hear you had such a wonderful night. That's so awesome. :) This is a fellow boardie-who's-tired-of-shewhomustnotbenamed...bwahahah! We've met before (but I'm not on LJ). ;)
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )