God, I love the weekend

It's International Tiara Day!
Originally uploaded by V'ron.
First of all, thanks to Miss Annie Chase, I have been made aware that today is International Tiara Day! This is significant, because Miss Annie, along with myself, Miss Amy Waldman, Miss Linda Beckstrom and Miss Amber Lawson are in need of Tiaras for an upcoming event which I will certainly promote here. But in the meantime, we are now going to form a local chapter of the Secret Order of the Tiara. Watch out boys. We are women, hear us roar. But this is the new millenium and we are middle-aged. We roar with a drinkie poo in our hands and a tiara on our heads. God, I love the New Feminism.

Also, to explain this picture, I belong to a group on Flickr called It's Thursday So Take A Selfportrait Under Your Desk." So since it's International Tiara Day, I downloaded the make your own tiara and did just that. (Honestly, there's a Flickr group for everything. Remember all those loud shirts from earlier this week? Guess where the pictures are -- in a group called "Wear it With Aloha.") God, I love Flickr.

On the rock and roll agenda for this weekend:
  • The fabulous Lemonie Fresh spins records Friday night at the Circle A, after some band I know nothing about called the Tantrums plays the early set. I like the name. What the heck, let's check them out. Anybody know the scoop on them? Who are they? Where are they from? What's their story? I'll get the facts Friday night and report back here, and as usual, I'll let you know if they were any good.

Saturday -- busy busy busy.
  • The Chop Top Toronados, who I gushed about last weekend, are playing an early set at the Circle A, followed by the legendary Paul Host on the turntables. But, alas, my docket already is fililng up, and for various reasons, I happen to know that there will be plenty of opportunity to catch these talented boys again soon.

  • There's a 40th birthday bash for promoter/constructor/saver of cool buildings/restauranteur Bill Brunke at Club Garibaldi Saturday night. I've looked all over to get the lineup for this, but only know about the bands who happen to be my Myspace friends, and they are among the mightiest: the Deer Lick and the Lumberhorn. All we need for a truly Mighty lineup are the Lemon Drops and the (so mighty they had to name them twice) Bosstones. No clue when either the Deer Licksters or the Lumberhorners are going on, and who else is there, so it will be a crapshoot if I'll get to see them. Still, I've never had a bad time at Club Garibaldi.

  • However, flashing like a big nose on a clown is the date circled on my calendar for weeks now, the recreation of the Rock and Roll Circus at Shank Hall by a pair of tribute bands, "Substitute" and "Shattered." This should actually be more fun that watching those old clips on VH1 again and again, and if you need me to tell you which band is tributing whom, you need more than me in your life. Normally, I would pick original music over tribute any day, but my drummer is the Keith Moon of the bunch, and he loves, I said LOVES the Who. Most drummers love the Who, but Andy Pagel really massively loves the Who. I've been hearing about this project for a year now, and there's always been a conflict for me to be able to see Pagel in his element, closing his eyes, tapping his feet together and saying "There's no place like Tommy's Holiday Camp." So I've had the sitter on the books for a month now so that Brian and I can finally see this.

  • I'd be at the annual John Lennon tribute at Linnemans (especially to see the debut of the new Buggs) but it's race day, and we have friends over to watch 1300 miles of Asphalt. We get up in the morning and watch ridiculously expensive ferraris zip through the streets of Monaco, which knocks off about 200 miles, give or take a few k because they have the metric system over there, Jules. Then we watch Jim Nabors sing "Back Home Again In Indiana" to herald the Indianapolis 500. Then we fire up the grills, turn on the NASCAR race, which I don't necessarily care about, and party well into the evening. The NASCAR race is 600 miles: do the math to get us to 1300.

  • But back to Indy. There's three, count 'em THREE women racing this year. For once, Mari Hulman George is going to get to pluralize the Lady in "LadIES and Gentlemen, start your engines!" While Danicamania makes Patrick the girl to beat, I've always had a spot in my heart for Sarah Fisher. No, she's not posing on the cover of Maxim, and she's delusional in this whole "It really shouldn't matter what my gender is" thing. She's right, it shouldn't matter, but it does. Sarah honey, quit pretending it doesn't, get yourself a tiara, put an umbrella in your glass of milk should you win, and embrace The New Feminism, girlfriend.

  • Parades

  • Sleep in

  • Water the garden

  • Chill out

God, I love Memorial Day Weekend


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