Thursday, July 12, 2007

I'm So Screwed

See this dress? Pretty isn't it? I want to get my pear shaped body into that Cindy Crawford shaped dress by 8/11/2007. Less than one month away.

I have several problems.

#1 -- I don't like exercise.
#2 -- I enjoy eating.
#3 -- I have no willpower.
#4 -- I always have more than 3 problems happening at the same time, so just figure I've got at least a couple more that I won't bother you with.

August 11, 2007 I will be in Vegas, seeing the Man, The Showman of Our Generation, Ladies and Gentlemen:

(thank you for that picture).

I've been a Mr. Could-It-Be-Magic fan since I was in high school...which is a number of years ago. My love-struck skinnier ass was at Ravinia in Highland Park, Illinois in August, 1976 to see Mr. M for the first time. He filmed his first Emmy-winning special there and then on a, to borrow a phrase, Hot (and humid) August Night. I had a great time. Like him or not, he'll give you your money's worth when it comes to a show.

I saw him again in 1979 and was going to see him last year until the show Anne and I were going to was cancelled. There was some speculation that Barry realized I was going be in Vegas and consequently left the entire state of Nevada -- only to appear in Rosemont, Illinois, a stone's throw from my own backyard. In other words, I was in his backyard, and he was in mine. But nevermind. Being my oldest friend, Anne was pissed off on my behalf, so Barry and I could maintain the warm and loving relationship he knows nothing about. Of course Anne and I had a great time in Vegas sans Mr. M -- how can you not? -- and the highlight was visiting the M Store at the Hilton.

The saleswomen were delightful. Ready to give you a Barry story or sighting on the spot. They were friendly and chatty and very helpful. They asked me about my Barry history. Then they turned to Anne, who was buying Manilow truffles only because the package said "Watch out! They squirt!"

"Do you like Barry?" they chirp.

"No," replies Anne, pointing an index finger at me. "I'm only here because of HER."

The looks on their faces assured me that Anne had delivered an answer they never heard before.

Now while Anne, out of friendship, would surely have accompanied me to Vegas this year, I've decided to spare her. This time around, I am going with my friend Colleen (whom I've met on-line) and meeting several other Manilow fans. Saturday night, 8/11, we will be at the show en masse. Third row center.

Poor guy. 30+ years in the frickin' business and he's soooo not prepared for us. Trust me. I'm on a pretty impressive regressive swing thanks to bio-identical estrogen.

In the meantime, what am I going to do about my pear?


Anonymous said...

What the warning with the chocolates ACTUALLY said was: "Swallow whole. They dribble!" So true of so many things in life. I expect you to bring more home to me.

You don't want to wear that dress anyway, not if you want him to see you, draw you on stage, and hold you in his arms as he sings, "Oh, Lara, kiss me and stop me from shaking." Black is hard for the artist to see over the lights. You need something in white or cream. So what the hell. Dresses like that have been chic since Audrey Hepburn had breakfast at Tiffany's. If you can't wear it in Vegas, you'll have other opportunities in the future, I promise.


colleen said...

Ah, the little black dress.

I asked if you were from Mass because you left a comment the other day on my blog posts about my trip home to Mass saying you wished you could go home again.

Lara Angelina said...

Thank you Anne, for the proper verbage on the Manilow truffles. I will be sure to buy more and hopefully not eat them before the hand-off! I am now in search of a lovely large cream colored dress because the little black one makes me look like a pregnant Shamu.
thanks again,

JaniceNW said...

LOL. I was just going to say, a new dress. I see Anne beat me to it. And like Anne the mere thought of seeing Barry Manilow in person makes me ill. But my best friend adores him too. She also likes Neil Diamond, hurl I say!

Get something comfy so you can forget it and enjoy yourself. There's so much more to look at and make fun of in Vegas, you'll not be someone that is pointed at by the tourists, unless, of course, you're really a man in drag wearing clothes borrowed from Elton John's closet circa 1978.

Thank you for the comment on my blog. I love it when someone understands what I am trying to say. :)

Linda said...

Yeah, the little black dress is definitely overrate. The normal-human sized black dress is better. Enjoying your blog.