Leave it to the lovely Karina the Russian to unknowingly score two free tickets to see a concert at one of the nicest venues Utah has to offer.

I mean, normally that’s my job.

“Summer, remember how I told you about that musician I met at a bar a few months back? Well I guess his band is coming to concert. Will you go with me? Of course we don’t have to pay. I don’t know who the band is but he said they are playing up in the mountains? Deer…Deer Valley?”

Oh my darling Russian. How I love you.

Turns out the band was actually Michael Franti and Spearhead. 

She did have the venue correct though, Deer Valley.

Being personally invited by one of the band members (and by band member I mean stage crew) has huge perks.

Like trading in our adult juice boxes and lawn seats…

For seats on the side of the stage. 

And of course our new stage crew friends wouldn’t let us sit there looking all thirsty. Nope. Beer was promptly brought for our consumption.

One problem though. After downing beer number two, finding a bathroom became a major necessity.

Like, life or death severity here people.

So we wandered around to the back of the stage, doing our best to make our potty dance walk look like we are just really into the music. Only between the stage and the salvation of the restrooms lay an asshole security guard who probably has a small wiener. I mean, I obviously don’t really know the size of his wiener, but his respect-my-authority bully complex made it pretty clear that  he was overcompensating for something.

Not that I am bitter. Not at all.

So the asshole security guard told us we didn’t have the proper back stage credentials. Even though we clearly explained to him that we just came from the two chairs on the side of the stage, chairs that were purposely put there for our sitting pleasure, he would have none of it.

“I’ve asked you nicely several times. If you don’t leave now I am going to have to forcibly remove you.”

Seriously?

Do I look like someone who needs to be forcibly removed?

Since our stage crew contact was running around working, doing whatever stage crew guys do, we begrudgingly fell from our backstage VIP credential-less status, to the regular concert attendee status.

That is, of course, after we found the bathroom.

Stupid bladders.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Concert whore, Out and About

For a while now, my little sister and I haven’t been getting along. There is no single definable reason as to why, we have just have been at odds.

My mother says it’s because we are both selfish – but that’s a post for another day.

When my sister and I fight, we find not talking to each other to be the best form of punishment. We are both sensitive and love each other too much to yell, so we just bide our time until one of us caves and tells the other that we miss them.

It’s a battle of who can stay silent the longest.

Truth be told neither of us ever lasts very long.  We’re close and ridiculously lost without each other. So you can imagine my relief when I got the following text from her:

I guess we are still not on the best of terms, but Royal Bliss will be at the Huka Bar this Friday and it won’t be worth going if I didn’t go with you…

Needless to say, my heart melted.

I asked ED if he wanted to go and that my sister had extended the invite. He didn’t hesitate. He simply said, “I guess that’s our plans for Friday night then.”

Any question as to why ED agreed to go?

Such a good man.

Concerts don’t really allow for much time to talk and I can’t say we sorted through any of the reasons why we were fighting in the first place, but damn if it wasn’t good to have a drink or three with her while enjoying a band that we (including our friend Karina the Russian) have history with.

I’d say I was the officially winner of our fight because she contacted me first, but truthfully the real reason I am the winner is because there is now an open line of communication back up between us. That’s the best part of the whole damn concert – getting my sister back.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Concert whore, Loved One(s)

For Christmas, my darling friend Karina the Russian bought concert tickets to see the band Brand New for my sister Staci, me and of course for herself. We had been counting down the days until the show and when the day finally rolled around WE WERE STOKED!

Staci and I have been listening to this little known alternative rock band for around six years. Karina is a bit more of a recent convert, but a fan nonetheless.

Before the show we met up for sushi and saki.

Karina and Staci

Staci and me (guess who has to be posing in every picture? LOL)

We really didn’t pay much attention to where the concert was being held until a few days before the show when we looked at our tickets and it said The Salt Palace Convention Center.  Which we thought was odd to have a smaller band held at a convention center, but whatever, WE WERE STILL STOKED!

After paying $7 for parking we wandered through the huge building following people wearing skinny jeans and flannel to the concert hall.

SIDENOTE: What is up with flannel coming back into style? Ugh!

When we finally got to the large concrete room where the concert was going to be. Naturally, we went straight up to the concession stand to purchase beer. Only… this was an all age show so there was no beer being served.

Not wanting to believe this to be true, we searched the room looking for people holding beer cups – there were none to be seen. What was to be seen, was thousands of  sober, angsty teenagers.

We walked around the perimeter, just to make sure we were not missing something and to further survey the crowd, but sadly, our biggest fear was realized, we were the “old people”  at a concert!

After the concert Karina apologized for it not being all we had hoped it would be. I told her “don’t you dare apologize!” Because even though we were sober and the oldest people there, we still had a great time and got to spend some much needed time together – something we don’t get to do nearly enough anymore.

Oh, and added bonus? We will all actually remember this concert AND none of us got beer spilled in our hair.

I’ll call that a win any day.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Concert whore, Out and About

I used to work in radio as an account executive for a few various stations which will remain un-named. Account executive is a fancy way of saying I sold air time, or commercials. It was a gig I really enjoyed, mainly because it gave me the ability to meet a lot of musicians.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love musicians? Have I told you how much I thoroughly enjoy going to concerts? No? News to you? Well there is a category on my side bar called “Concert whore” so that should give you some sort of idea.

Throughout the years I have grown to realize that musicians are people, just like you and me… only with lots of money, big egos and substance abuse problems. Don’t get me wrong, it is still really freaking cool to meet them, but I don’t get my panties all in a wad about it anymore. I can be relaxed and non-spazmatic while meeting stars like Aaron Lewis, Tommy Lee, Maroon Five, Nickleback (ED loves to tease me about that one!), Third Eye Blind, Candlebox, Hinder, Alanis Morissette… you get the picture.  So I am not entirely sure why, with all the experience I have of meeting celebrities, I completely forgot how to speak when I met Dooce last week.

Ms. Twenty-Six herself was signing copies of her book “It Sucked and Then I Cried” at Kings Bookstore for their holiday open house. When I found out about the book signing (through her blog, which I read everyday), I knew I wanted to go. I’ve only ever heard great things about her from friends who either know her or have met  her. Plus, if I am being completely honest, she is pretty much my hero. My blogging hero.

I got to the bookstore just slightly after the open house started. It was pretty packed and I had never been there before so I just started wandering. I turned a corner, looking absentmindedly at books, and there she was. I took a deep breath and walked right up to her table. Instantly any knowledge of how to form words or sentences or thoughts, went straight out the window. She looked at me standing there saying nothing but smiling and playing with the corner of my coat jacket like a lovesick school girl, then casually looked over at her husband Jon giving him the oh great we have another crazy one here look, and greeted me warmly.

Hours after I leaving the book signing, I was still mentally slapping myself on the forehead for acting like such a complete and utter idiot! I’m not one who is prone to beating myself up needlessly, but I could not for the life of me let go of what a spaz I was. She was so incredibly… nice… and normal… and actually tried to have a conversation with me. I say “tried” because it had to be difficult to converse with someone who just keeps smiling and nodding and who couldn’t answer the simplest of questions!  When I did manage to speak, I mumbled something about being a blogger and SHE ASKED FOR MY CARD!!! and then I fainted. Okay, so I didn’t actually faint, but it would have been less dramatic than the scene I made, violently digging through my purse muttering “bah… bah… bah…”, until I found it.

Honestly, it was like I didn’t even recognize myself.

When I got home that night I emailed her to apologize for being such a spaz, you know, cause nothing says “I’m not a whack job” like emailing someone you just met 30 minutes after meeting them to tell them you are not actually a freak in real life?

Lord I’m retarded.

I suppose I’ll stick to meeting rock stars from now on because my precious ego can’t take meeting another person I admire.

Have you ever made an ass of yourself in front of someone you admire or am I just special, and by special I mean retarded?

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Concert whore, Story Time, blogging

I must say I had a truly a-freaking-mazing Thanksgiving holiday. I have great pictures and stories to share but unfortunately you will need to wait a day or two for them because I spent the last five days pretending like I don’t have a care in the world and I am now up to my eyeballs in homework. Bloody homework.

My first day back in the real world started out with an unexpected run in with an ex-boyfriend. Don’t you just hate those? Fortunately, for the first time since we broke up about 2 years ago, he was very non-asshole-ish. I’d like to say it was because he has grown up or moved on… but it was more than likely because we saw each other in a work setting and I was with a client who spends money with his company. Still, being treated like a human being rather than the bitch who broke his heart was greatly appreciated.

I’d like to start a petition that states whenever a relationship ends, the person who has lived in that state for the shorter amount of time has to move at least two states away. Seriously this idea is genius! Think about all of the problems this would solve! For example, last Valentines Day ED and I ran into his ex-girlfriend at our romantic dinner out (she was there with her mother). If my breakup law was put into play, that never would have happened because she would be living in Arkansas!

But I digress…

Later on, in my first day back in the real world, I got an e-mail from Heidi saying she had the two tickets to see 30 Seconds to Mars I had asked her about months ago. Only they weren’t just regular tickets, they were VIP tickets. I was distraught because I knew the responsible thing to do would be to stay home and get caught up on homework. But I am not responsible, or logical… at least when it comes to seeing sexy men with guitars on stage. So I made an appearance in class, ran home and practiced my speech for 30 minutes, threw on black clothes and an extra layer of makeup and left to see Jared. Beautiful, sexy, black eyeliner wearing Jared Leto.

Picture courtesy of Karina the Russians Criket phone

So the picture is not great, but even blurry you gotta admit he looks hot. I told ED that Jared Leto almost looks as hot on stage with a guitar as he did swinging an ax on the farm. He told me to shut it. I told him to watch it buster because I’ve lived in Salt Lake a lot longer than he has and I don’t want to have to ship him off to South Dakota. He didn’t get it. But he will once my breakup law passes.

Threats! Yet another benefit to my brilliant idea.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Concert whore, ED is not Emotionally Disturbed

Over the weekend I disobeyed the doctors orders and it felt great! That is, until Monday morning.

Friday I went to the X96 Big Ass Show with Karina the Russian. I was a lot more behaved than I was last year when I was running around getting my picture taken with every rock star I laid eyes on. But, when you have VIP tickets which give you access to free beer…. it would have been a shame to let it go to waste.

A few of the bands I really enjoyed watching were The Airborne Toxic Event (seriously in love with these guys! If you don’t know who they are watch THIS), Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and of course Offspring. Offspring was the headlining band and they tore it up! It was so funny to watch Karina looking at everyone else sing along to the songs. “You don’t know this one?” I would scream over the crowd. Then she would look at me with her of course I don’t know this one I’m from Russia bitch look. I would of course laugh and she would tell me how she was going to take me to Russia and laugh at me when I didn’t know the bands who were playing.

The next morning Karina and I went to brunch. I had coffee and the most amazing crab Benedict served over cornbread with an avocado relish. I’m drooling thinking about it again. I kept marveling as we sat outside on the patio at how I really felt OK. All of the symptoms from last week seemed to have magically disappeared. How amazingly wonderful for me!

Saturday night I went to 2 barbecues where the food, margaritas and wine flowed freely. I felt great and had a wonderful time. Then Sunday came along. Damn you Sunday. Such a fun wrecker. I studied for over 12 hours trying to make up for all of my play time then I had a stress induced anxiety attack.

So now here I am, back where I started. Taking several over the counter meds and eating bland foods. Apparently when they talk about school being a sacrifice they are not kidding. My body is telling me I can no longer play like I used to plus handle the stress of work, school and finances. I think it sucks. I think I SHOULD be able to handle it all. But sadly, superwoman left the building a long time ago.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Back to School, Bag full of complaints, Concert whore, K to the R stories, Out and About

Concert whore, Out and About, Posts Grandma won't approve of

Friday night Karina the Russian, my sis Staci and I went to the X96 Nightmare Before X-mas concert featuring Anberlin and Hoobastank.

Somewhere around 6 years ago, Karin the Russian had met the guitarist for Hoobastank while working for a hotel. She has often talked about him and how much she wished that she had returned his call way back when. So I suggested to her to reach out and contact him (through the lovely myspace world) to see if he remembered her, which of course he did – vividly! Long story short, we ended up hanging out with the band before they went on stage, we stood on the side of the stage while they played their set and partyed with them at the unofficial after party. Needless to say, Karin is “in love”… again. Unfortunately we didn’t bring a camera and didn’t think to take many camera phone pictures so this is our only “good” picture.

The band(s), their technical people and their friends were all amazingly cool. It’s safe to say we had a VERY good time. I’d like to say that I have gotten to the point where I am not star struck by rockstars, but sometimes I still am. For example, I couldn’t get up the nerve to go over and say “hi” to the lead singer of Anberlin. I LOVE those guys! In fact, 3 years ago I actually got to meet them, but for some reason I lost my nerve completely. He was sitting maybe 15 feet away from me too! Guess it didn’t help that I was a little tipsy and they are a “Christian Rock” band so I am not sure if they even drink or not. Regardless, I just kept picturing making an ass out of my self by saying something stupid like “Hi! Remember me? We met 3 years ago. I LOVE YOU! I have all of your albums – memorized! Let’s get married and have lots of rockstar babies!” then security would inevitably be called and they would have to pry me off of him and the whole time I would be screaming “I love you! Call me!” while shouting out my phone number.

Regarless of my chicken-shit-ness, we did have a lot of fun.

Rockstars, motocross guys, tour buses, Doritos, VIP section, lots of laughing… you know, our typical Friday night out.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Concert whore, K to the R stories, Out and About

One of the cardinal rules of having a personal blog is to avoid writing about work at all costs. However, this was a little too funny to pass up.

Remember how my friend Sarah wrote about our Metallica concert experience in her column for In Utah? Well somebody at my office came across the article and decided to make sure everyone was aware of my stardom. You can imagine my surprise when my boss handed me the article and said “I never knew you were such a rocker.”

I know it’s a little blurry, but at the top are all of my co-workers initials. Standard policy is to cross of your initials and pass it on to the next person so that everyone gets a chance to see whatever important document is getting circulated. Also written to the right it says “Summer is totally famous.”

I’m not going to lie, I was pretty embarrassed. I guess that is the price you pay for having famous friends. Funny if you think about it, I was able to strut my butt-rocker self through a restaurant, public transportation and a concert with my head held high. But knowing that my boss and co-workers read about me wearing “hooker gear” to a metal concert was enough to make me want to hide in my office. I guess it’s because I try so hard to keep “Professional Summer” separate from “Rocker Summer”. Well, the cat’s out of the bag now. Think they’ll be OK if I trade in my business suits for fishnet shirts and mini skirts?

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Concert whore

A few weeks ago I wrote about going to the Metallic concert with my friend Sarah for her birthday. Sarah writes a weekly column called That’s What She Said for the independent paper IN Utah This Week. The issue that hit stands last Thursday (and is still out) featured her take on the concert experience as well as a picture of us. This is my first experience of having my picture in the paper for non-illegal activities. I’m pretty sure mug shots don’t count though, but even if they do, I like my smile in this picture MUCH better. Click here to check it out.

Blogfully yours,
Summer

Concert whore