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Belle of the ball, the Titanic of Red Carpets, and what you didn’t see on TV.

I want to think I was the belle of the ball, but it was Adele. She reigned supreme and deserved it.

Damn, she's adorable!

There are three parts to this blog:

  • Leaving for the weekend by myself with girlfriends
  • Attending the Grammy’s civilian style
  • My usual color commentary of all things celebrity and frivolous.

I will also add some disclaimers:

No I did not meet any celebrities per se, and I got the privilege to attend the Grammys because a friend’s dad gets the tickets through his work.

Being away for a weekend:

When mama is gone for 4 days it’s enough to have the children fed and kept happy. Forget any household chores getting done, laundry, vacuuming… Now there’s 4 days of chores waiting for me to do. Which means it will take me around a week to catch up at the speed I get through them. Which means since I never get caught up in the first place; for the next month I will be doing the previous week’s chores. We’ll be glad if there’s clean socks and underwear for everyone.

Attending the Grammys civilian style:

What I mean by this is, these important events that rich and famous people get to attend usually come with borrowed couture, loaned jewels, hair and make up teams, chauffeurs, handlers, assistants…

When you are just a regular person trying to pull yourself together for attending a black tie affair, it’s hard! I’m not complaining. No. BUT, dang it, false eyelashes are a bitch to apply and the cheap Target SPANX knock-offs rolls up on the leg seams giving you a ‘ribbed’ look you didn’t intend.

Plus, us gals all followed the strict small print on every ticket and memo we received, banning cell phones and cameras. With the warning that they would be checked by security. To avoid this pain in the ass (and yes, I did think of shoving my phone in my knock-off SPANX to sneak it in, but they put you through metal detectors and that would have been embarrassing for me to reach up into my waistband, lifting the muffin top, to reach my phone if I got busted.); we left our phones in the car.

Here’s some foreshadowing for you- yes, we regretted leaving our phones in the car. More on that later.

I have never attended an event of this magnitude or prestige. There’s people lining the streets of LA near the Staples center, lanes and lanes of limos and town cars, spray tan, platform heals and LOTS of cleavage. LOTS of cleavage.

We parked in the garage, walked around to the entrance. And flashed our tickets. We were given Red Carpet access. Yes, I tinkled a little in my knock-off SPANX to be actually on a Red Carpet. Yes, I felt somewhat giddy. But I soon learned, there are two types of Red Carpets. If this Red Carpet was the Titanic- there’s first class and steerage. And I was on the side with Jack, not Rose. So that means, no life jackets, no boats. I would have sunk. But anyway… When you are steerage class you walk BEHIND the backdrops and ropes of where the celebs do their poses for photogs and you can peek around to see folks getting interviewed, until they tell you to move along for some stupid fire code. Yeah, yeah, the fire chief doesn’t want fifty of us crowding around to see if we can spy Beyonce (who was not there by the way). For the record- I don’t blame folks now for wearing sunglasses on the red carpet. Those lights are freakin’ bright. The Grammy red carpet is under a tent, so it seems to magnify the spotlights and flashes. It’s like a Yen Lui studio on crack.

Here’s who I got to see:

Ryan Seacrest (despite everyone calling him short- newsflash, most men in Hollywood are under 6′, he’s very handsome.)

Billy Ray Cyrus

Paris Hilton (she looks like a lollipop in a dress)

Kathy Griffin (plastic surgery doesn’t look as scary as it does on TV)

Rebecca Black (Friday song girl- she’s cute)

The cute little girls from Ellen that wear the giant pink tutus (SO cute)

Some R&B singer I didn’t know the name of

Some Rap artists I didn’t know the name of

Kelly Osbourn (hair color is still really weird, but kind of cool)

Tia Carrere (her plastic surgery DOES look scary in person)

Chris Harrison of the Bachelor

What I didn’t know that while I was on the red carpet so was:

Bruno Mars
The Band Perri
Corrine Bailey Ray
Esperanza Spalding

and a bunch of others that I must’ve missed with all the backdrops and reporters blocking my view.

I got three compliments from ushers (not THE Usher) on my dress. At least someone noticed!

The Staples center does not open any bars or cocktail lounges prior to the event. Apparently someone thought it was a school carnival and was selling Diet Coke, Red Vines, Smarties and popcorn. Um- ‘scuse me, this girl needs a gin and tonic.

So we sat in our seats with just a bottle of water, a Lara bar I smuggled in my purse and some gum. And no phones. Did I mention, no phones? We felt like one of our limbs had been removed. No texting, no posting on Facebook braggy status posts, no quickie pics of Kelly Osbourn in her 360 glam cam station for the E! network. Nothing.

This is where being a celebrity must come in handy. You get your phone and I’m guessing as many gin and tonics as you want.

When we saw all the other rule breakers with their phones and cameras we were kicking ourselves for being such goody-two-shoes. Where was the enforcement people??? There were people taking pictures and video left and right and no one seemed to care! Next time- if there’s a next time- I am bringing my phone.

If you saw the show on TV- here’s what you missed:

The set for Katy Perry’s performance had 4 ice sculptures but by the time it was her segment one had already crashed to the ground and broken in a million pieces during a commercial break so they had to quickly clear the stage and roll with it. Not that it mattered to have three instead of four.

Fergie’s awful orange dress (or as Emma texted me later that night- ‘Chinese New Year gone wrong’) glowed in the dark. I’m not sure how, but you could spot her all the way across the Staples center even in the dark.

I watched Paul McCartney during every commercial break get up and shake hands, give kisses and pose for pics. Not with us of course, but the fancy people. Still- what a guy.

Glenn Campbell seemed confused and almost wandered off the stage before starting to sing. But God Bless him, cuz Rhinestone Cowboy was THE most favorite song of my 4 year old existence. If Crystal Gayle came out on stage, my friends would have had to get a stretcher for me.

Hot chicks play banjos.

Paris Hilton likes to wander around calling attention to herself for no apparent reason.

Tony Bennett’s gray hair is as visible across a room as Fergie’s orange dress.

Jennifer Hudson was pitch perfect in person for her Whitney tribute and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

The Cold Play number in person was a lot cooler than on TV because they gave us these bracelets that were remotely activated to blink and light up to the music while they played. After the number, they were useless. But I continued to wear mine throughout the evening hoping Chris Martin was going to send me some morse code signal through them.

The Staples Center likes to keep things on the chilly side. We were snuggled up under our dresses and wraps while some a/c was wafting from above. Good thing it was dark, because everyone would have seen our SPANX with our knees tucked under our chins for body heat.

I got to brag to my husband that I was in the same room as Kate Beckinsale. Of course, I was 200 feet from her, but when will HE ever be in the SAME room as her?? Even if that room is 10,000  square feet.

The Nicki Minaj number sucked in real life as much as it did on TV. Fail.

Yeah, I was scared too.

I want to carry Bruno Mars’ babies. Okay, not really, but I would carry his Cabbage Patch dolls for him or his golf bag, or whatever he wants me to carry for him, he’s so cute. We’ll just forget about the cocaine incident a year ago through airport security, shall we?

And lastly- Adele sounded SPECTACULAR in person. Hands down it was her night and everyone knew it.

It was my night too.

I’m sure I will be writing endlessly about my Grammy weekend. But this is all I got for now. Enjoy.

Oh and yes, I did get my gin and tonic later that night. Two in fact.

Afterwards at the restaurant. I'm the one in blue. See my gin and tonic in front of me. Oh wait- it's empty.

Valentine’s day, the Grammys and class parties

Ladies and gentleman– stop the hate for Valentine’s day. If you don’t want to celebrate it, then just don’t. Why should this day of the year remind you any less of the sex life you are having, or not having. Maybe you need more ‘man’ in ‘romance’. Maybe you hate cupid and are allergic to chocolate. It’s okay. Step away from the Hallmark store and nobody gets hurt.

Here’s my personal take on the whole matter:

It is in fact a holiday not made up by Hallmark but actually there was a St. Valentine somewhere back in some odd century that was imprisoned from his lover, blah, blah, blah. This is not a history lesson. That is all I’m going to mention of a factual nature, the rest is pure opinion.

Husbands– don’t buy chocolate or flowers. Why? Because these items are jacked up in price beyond all belief. There’s two holidays you never buy flowers: Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day. This goes against all the marketing in our country. But I have told this to my husband for years and years. He made the mistake once and I told him to save his money for my lipo fund and skip the flowers. There’s plenty out there that’s the same price year ’round: sleeping pills, wine, Daniel Craig DVDs, Sephora gift cards, shoes… you get the idea.

Wives– Just put out. Yep, I said it. It’s really all they want anyway. I’m not going to go into detail in what capacity. That is up to you. But buy a card to mark the occasion, and then put on your best pair of sweats and concert t-shirt and some deodorant and tell him to have at it. He can tap it like a keg. Maybe have “Bridesmaids” playing in the background you can watch over his shoulder in case you get bored. He’ll be so happy.

Moms of school age children– Please keep your fancy, crafty cards and treats and things to a minimum. If you HAVE to bake cupcakes, please make them from a box. Throw on some conversation hearts and call it good. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT make some fondant flowers or cupids you stayed up all night hand sculpting. This isn’t Cupcake Wars, it’s not Cake Boss. The kids will tear in to them in  two seconds flat, the frosting gets all over the carpet for the teacher to clean up and the other poor moms just look at you like you are trying to impress. Which you are, but we don’t need some over achieving mom out there in her Lululemon pants and her Juicy Couture bags with her fancy ass cupcakes. It makes us all feel lazy. Which we are.

Save your fancy schmancy treats for the bake sale.

OH, I almost forgot. So as some of you know this is my big Grammy weekend. I’m heading out for the weekend to LA with girlfriends and I’m stoked like a campfire to be at the ceremony. If you see a crazy blond women storm the stage on Bruno Mars- that’s me.  The hubs is perfectly capable of taking care of the two chil’ins. He’s had enough practice and it’s been years since one of them needed their butt wiped. So I think he’s good. I’ve left plenty of heat and eat things and there’s bound to be some trips to some local eateries. I just ask that he remembers to feed the dog and cat and remember to do the carpool duties I’ve told him of.

So this means I will come home in time for Valentine’s day. Better dust off my Bridesmaids DVD, the husband jar is going to be full of tokens he will want to redeem. Fair is fair.

Where is that copy I have?

Forty is the new everything

I’m a little bit giddy, a little bit nervous, and kinda paranoid all at the same time.

Here’s why:

My girlfriend Christin and I are going to the Grammys. Yeah. The real deal. Where Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett and LMFAO are all in the same room. It will be our early 40th birthday present to ourselves. Our friend Jennifer is taking us. She’s got some awesome connections and a super awesome dad that’s how we got to be so lucky.

So between freaking out, figuring out what I’m going to wear, making hair appointments to cover my roots, waxing (I don’t really wax) and telling the hubs he’ll have the kids for a whole weekend on his own, the back of my mind is going through the- ‘does this mean that with something this good, the universe will even the score and something bad will happen?

I know. That’s awful. How cynical of me. Good things happen to people, regardless. Bad things happen when  nothing good has happened. So why do I think because I get a stroke of good fortune, misfortune will come knocking?  Because I’m normal. Or fu*#ed/normal. The new normal.

So on top of all that, yes,  I’m turning 40. In August. But still, it’s there. On the calendar. Like a root canal. Or a pap smear appointment. But it’s also kind of super awesome. Why? Because I feel like now the best is yet to come. Even if the universe wants to settle any scores,  my life is way better than it was 20 years ago. Hell yeah. My twentieth birthday was spent going to my retail job, living in my cramped apartment, a few friends to make me feel special, no bars yet- I didn’t have a fake ID (too much of a goody-two-shoes) and no boyfriend. Now a boyfriend shouldn’t make you need to feel complete. But come on, let’s be real- I was a girl with needs. The need to be romanced, kissed on the neck, kissed on the lips, and snuggled. (More than that, but my mom reads my blog)

The plan is for me and the family to be in Europe with friends in August for my 40th. That’s pretty fantastical. Expensive. But fantastical. Of course, I’m stressed because I don’t have passports for the kids yet. And since the new law requires all of us to go in person so James knows I’m not kidnapping our kids to New Zealand, it makes for a difficult time getting us all together to the appointment, at the Post Office, on a Saturday. Or I’m just procrastinating because it doesn’t sound like fun to get a passport.

So yeah. My 2012 is going to be excellent. Like Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. But I doubt there will be time travel.

So the Grammy’s. I promised Emma I would  try and get a picture of Nicki Minaj.

I’m sure the next 5 weeks (FIVE WEEKS!) will be full of outfit questions and other babblings.

Yay me. And Christin. And Jennifer. Happy Birthday to  us.

Emma's favorite. I can't understand a word she sings. Emma says that's probably because I'm old and a parent.

My favorite. Maybe she'll sing to me.