Cherry Pie Worship

I don't really know where to start.  It's raining, so that might be as good as place as any.  Not really newsworthy but for the love of God, when will this sucktastic weather end? Right now, in the glorious city of Moose Jaw, Sidewalk Days are taking place.  Basically they block off downtown and all the businesses set up outside and there is entertainment, stuff for the kids to do, etc.  And given that most of the time the highlight of any given week is the outdoor Polka concert put on in the park for seniors?  I kind of look forward to Sidewalk Days.  There is shopping.  There are mini donuts.  Cherry flavoured lemonade. Mini Donuts.  Face painting for the kids; those death trap bouncy castle things and MINI DONUTS.  Today the rain is keeping us from all of these things.

Now yes I could go anyway and we could don festive ponchos and take umbrellas if for nothing else than a shot at the donuts but it's just not the same.  If this rain doesn't let up I'll have to wait another WHOLE WEEK before I can get mini donuts.  That's then the fair comes to town.

Moose Jaw really likes to do it up at the end of June/early July and then call 'er a year.

Speaking of the fair, in the next closest city, beautiful Regina (some people say it's the "City that Rhymes with Fun"), their annual fair will be happening in early August.  I was reading the paper this morning and noticed that one of the performers will be none other than WARRANT!  When I was 13/14, I worshipped Warrant.  I was in love with Jani Lane and longed to swept into his 'Heaven' singing arms while his long blond hair flowed in the wind.  Have I mentioned my predilection for boys with long hair?  It started a young age.

Here they are in all their 90s 'Metal' glory:

Yes people, take it all in.  The love of my life is the one almost dead center.  And frighteningly enough if he had short hair and a perm(I'm not kidding, but in his defense, he stopped perming his hair about 17 years ago), this almost resembles my ex-husband...so yeah, that's super.  Anyway, my friend Brigette loved the dark haired one in the lower right hand corner.  She & I devoted a great deal of time to the worship of Warrant and practised our head banging to such hits as 'Cherry Pie' and whatever other songs we liked of theirs.  To be honest, right now I can only think of Cherry Pie, Heaven, Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich (I think) and I Saw Red.  Jani (pronounced Johnny but spelled cool like that because that's how he rolls) nearly broke my adolescent heart when he sang I Saw Red about whatever groupie slut it was that cheated on him and broke his sensitive rocker heart.

I saw Warrant ten years ago at Minnedosa.  An outdoor rock concert event.  Jani had gained a few pounds and had a thinning bob.   I'm concerned what ten more years may have done to my young love crush.  Will that stop me from going?  I don't think so.  Why not cling to my youth?  It just dawned on me that it was 20 years ago when posters of these guys adorned my bedroom wall.  And yes, I had an entire wall devoted to Warrant.

One for Warrant, one for Poison, one for Bon Jovi and one for Skid Row.  I think a few Motley Crue posters may have made their way into the mix as well.  No New Kids on the Block for this girl!  I was far too cool, edgy and 'raw' for that boy (man?) band.  Mariah Carey?  No thank you.  Milli Vanilli?  Yes, they snuck in their too.  For shame, I know.

So today on this rainy day ruining yet another day of supposed summer? Maybe I will Google Warrant.  Try to find some videos on You Tube and maybe talk my husband into donning a long blond wig and lip syncing to Cherry Pie and see where the day takes us...

Or not because the children do not have school today.  So they are here.  In the house.  Because it's raining.  Maybe I'll just start drinking instead....

Crushed Dreams & Brush Cuts

I am the only still up.  I should go to bed but can't.  I feel ill at ease or something.  It's nothing serious.  I honestly believe a good part of this discontent stems from American Idol.  I watched it tonight and got all caught up in the "magic" of it.  Then I remembered there is no magic here.  Since I can remember, I've wanted to be a singer.  I sang and still do sing my heart out given the opportunity.  And while sometimes I can do a pretty mean mimic, I cannot actually sing.  I do not know the notes, I can't hit the notes; Lauren Alaina (sp?) I am not.  And I am definitely not Hailey.  I'd really like to be Hailey.  I'd like to be 17 and look like that, sing like that and move like that.

Instead I'm 34.  Apple shaped.  About 1/2 inch of grey roots on the go and my moves are limited to switching laundry loads, vacumning and toilet cleansing.  A lot of that means I'm bent over, so maybe that counts for something?  Well it might, if I still worked out.  It would likely also be of benefit if I weren't usually wearing a pair of sweat pants that make it look as though I've shit myself.

Sigh.

Now come on, some positive scanning, some Oprah gratitude.  I am not a Butterface.  In fact, I'm likely the opposite.  Don't know what a Butterface is?  Please go over to Pretty All True and she will enlighten you. My kids are intelligent, socially adept and attractive.  Yes I'm mentioning looks and yes it does matter.  We can all pretend it doesn't, but really, if you have social skills and people don't suggest a bag over your head as an accessory, chances are you will have some level of success in this world.  Even if you are just clean and have social skills, you'll get your foot in the door to wherever it is you need or want to be.  So I am grateful for their non-hideousness and non-assholeness.

Except, as not ugly as I am, and as charming, funny, witty and plain fucking fantastic as I am, I am not and will never be a rock star.  Not even a pop star.  My voice is rightfully confined to my home, car and any place that serves alcohol. 

Oh and there's one more thing, I've also always wanted to be a biker or just affiliated with that sort of club.  Then I found Sons of Anarchy and even though it's a television show, each season, I live SOA and convince myself I am Gemma's apprentice.   And that Jax knows I'm out here and is just waiting for the right time.  There is no man more gorgeous and....sigh, I can't put what I want to put here because my kids read this and they are already disturbed by his topless photo on my laptops desktop.  It's from some men's Fitness magazine.  He's oiled up and...

Now I'm distracted.

Anyway, I would be Jax's old lady in a heartbeat.  Yes, of course at first I would need to drop about 40 pounds and get some 'work' done, but then I'd be all his.  And he would be all mine.  This would include his hair.  I have liked boys with long hair since I first started noticing boys.  So imagine my horror, my woe, if you will, at finding out Jax cut his hair.  He's got what pretty much amounts to a brush cut.  This is not okay.  This is breaking the rules.  If I'm willing to go under the knife for him (no I'm not that delusional but in my pretend world, there is a chance for he and I) then the least he could do is not cut his hair.  Ever.

Sigh.

It's been a heck of an evening.  American Idol, once again, crushed my hopes and dreams of singing stardom and my #1 fantasy boyfriend betrayed me with a hair cut.  No wonder I can't sleep.  Where will the madness end?