Archive for September, 2004

Sep 19 2004


Published by under The Man,Wedding

Well, you know how in my last entry I said my throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming I did at the concert?  It turns out my throat was sore because I was getting sick!  Specifically, I had/have some strange hybrid of the flu and a sinus infection.  For the first two days (Tuesday and Wednesday) it was just sore throat – major painful sore throat, but having lived with infected tonsils for about 10 years, I am used to it.  Thursday things got worse.  My head stuffed up.  I started feeling nauseous.  Sometime around midafternoon I got up to go to the bathroom and I almost fell right back down.  I thought I had just stood up too fast, but I had to cling to the wall for about five minutes before I could proceed.  Then the cold sweats started.  I fumbled my way back to my seat and IMed The Man, telling him that he had to drive me home because I didn’t think I could make it on my own.  I went home, collapsed on the couch, and didn’t really move from it until today.  My throat doesn’t hurt anymore, but my head is still very stuffy.  I don’t feel nauseous, so I assume I’m on my way back to somewhat healthy.  Which is pretty good, because I have an all day meeting tomorrow that I absolutely cannot miss.

I was supposed to go spend Saturday and Sunday with Mackers, and sleep over at my parents’ house, but that obviously didn’t happen.  I might have gone over there and infected all of them if I felt like it would be any fun, but seeing as how I couldn’t really breathe, I decided to let them all remain germ-free and just stay home and blow my nose.  Now The Man says he is feeling a little bit stuffed-up, so I’m positive that he is going to get sick just as I get better, because that is what always happens.

I addressed some wedding invitations today.  Now my mouth tastes all nasty from licking envelopes.  Gross.  I wish they would make that glue mint flavored or something.  Throw us a bone.  I can’t wait to see how much postage is going to cost for the invitations.  I have about 40 things in that envelope beside the actual invitation itself.

We’ve got a whole shitload of hornets having a party outside one of our office windows.  I think we need to get some poison and have a party of our own.  I hate hornets.  I especially hate how they crawl their asses inside my house and build nests.  I think we’re going to have to check the attic for creepy crawls and spray some ultra-nasty stuff up there before harvest starts and the soybean aphids come back.  I wish bugs would mind their own business.

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Sep 15 2004

Fleetwood Mac at DTE Energy Theatre.

Published by under Media,The Man

Ahhh, the Fleetwood Mac concert.  At the request of Daniel-san, a review.  Although it’s less of a review and more of a recap.

We left home at 5 PM for a 7:30 concert that is only about 60 miles away.  It turns out that it’s a good thing we left early, since I-75 is all backed up due to the 60 miles of road construction.  Once we get out of our town traffic begins flowing smoothly again, since we’re back to at least two lanes on the expressway instead of the measly one.

I’ve never been to the DTE Theatre (or Pine Knob, as the locals still call it), but it’s a nice venue.  Pine Knob is an outdoor place, with a pavilion for the floor seats.  Everyone else sits on the big ol’ hill they call The Lawn and smokes weed.  We’re in the pavilion.  When we find our seats, we’re about 15 rows back, or only 70 feet from the stage, just left of center.  Excellent seats, so we’re pretty happy about that.  It’s still a half hour before the show is scheduled to start, but the pavilion is empty.

There is absolutely no one in any of the seats ahead of us, and we’re hoping it stays that way, although we know better.  Some morons are cheering the roadies who are setting up the instruments and doing sound checks.


My, my, my, what do I see here?  Why, I do believe it’s Aging Rocker Guy, and right behind him is Former Porn Star Woman.  I usually don’t much care about what people choose to do to themselves, but this woman is like a walking ad for plastic surgery.  Her boobs are enormous.  You know how another word for “boobs” is “melons”?  Well, I’m not kidding, go shove two good-sized cantaloupes down the front of your shirt.  Now pull all the skin of your face back as far as you can, and go get a really dark fake tan.  Bleach your hair.  Voila!  You are Former Porn Star Woman!  And, lest you think it was just me gaping at this freak show, the two girls behind me were equally as amazed.  I heard one of them giggle “How does she stand up?”

Hey, it’s some of Those People!  Those People are sitting right in front of me!  Hurrah, the streak lives!  I have people in front of me and The Man still has a clear view of the stage.  The guy in front of me is busy, busy, busy.  He’s a busy guy.  You can tell because he can’t stop talking on his cell phone.  Got calls to make, this guy.  Got things to do, stocks to trade!  No time to rest.

Stereotypical Roadie is still on stage, setting up the mikes and doing sound checks.  I’m waiting for him to go “Check one!  Check one!  Sibilance!” but he doesn’t.

Two groupies sit down next to The Man.  They may not really be groupies, but they’ve got the tight jeans, tight shirt, lotsa makeup look going, and they are cheering the roadies.  Ugh.

At this point, it’s 7:45 and the show has not started.  I know that these things rarely start on time, but as The Man said “All these hundreds of people managed to show up on time, how come the band can’t get on stage at the time they told us to be here?”  He’s got a point.


At 8 PM the show gets going.  The band comes out and opens with “The Chain”, which is pretty traditional.  Lindsey greets the audience, and his voice sounds pretty rough.  Almost as though he’s been singing very loudly every night for two years!  But after the first couple of songs, he gets warmed up and everything is right again.

Well, almost.  The Man and I switched seats when the concert started, because I care more about seeing the band than he does.  That put me next to the groupies, and these girls were under the mistaken impression that they were at a Phish or Grateful Dead concert.  They were doing the “I’m high on weed and/or tripping on acid” mystical arm wavy swaying dance.  And they were not shy about using ALL the space they needed in order to communicate through dance just how in touch with the music they were.  The girl immediately to my left swung her arm in front of my face a few times and was coming dangerously close to humping my leg.

Fortunately, after the first two songs, people start sitting down again.  This is not going to be like Grand Rapids, where everyone stood up for the entire show, totally negating the reason for buying a SEAT.  Throughout the rest of the show, people would stand for some songs (usually the ones Stevie sings) and sit for others (the new ones, or Lindsey’s songs, which are usually not danceable).


I tried to find the set list online, but they don’t have it up yet.  They played a few more songs from “Say You Will” than I remember from Grand Rapids, and I really liked “Red Rover”.  The best number, I thought, was “Landslide”, because the whole audience sang along, but you could still hear Stevie loud and clear.  Besides, it’s always cool to see her and Lindsey do that song.  They have such great chemistry on stage that it’s fun to watch.

When they played the song “Say You will”, a very strange thing happened.  Stevie started doing a dance to the chorus.  A very funny little dance, almost like one a young child would make up, because it was very specific to the words.  And the audience started doing it too!  If you would like to do the “Say You Will” dance, here’s what you’ll need to do (words to the song in italics):

Say you will, say you will
Stand with hands on hips, straight and tall, as though yelling at your kid

Give me one more chance
On the word “one”, hold up your right index finger, as though ordering One Pastrami Sandwich.

At least give me time to change your mind
Hold your hands in front of you, bent at elbow, palms out, and shake them as though saying “no, no, you’ve got it all wrong!  I didn’t steal a million dollars from the mob! Please don’t whack me!”

That always seems to heal the wounds
Arms straight out, palms up.  On the word “heal” lift arms slowly until they are over your head.

If I can get you to dance
Left hand on hip, right hand over head making the “lasso” motion.

You’re done!

I mock the dance, but I do love that song.

Lindsey was going crazy last night, I don’t mind observing.  He was doing a lot of jumping up and down.  If I didn’t know better, it would look very similar to throwing a temper tantrum because he was stomping his feet and throwing himself around with such energy.  Several times he crouched down during the really long outros to his songs and let people in the front row strum the strings on his guitar wildly.  That must have been pretty cool.

But when I say “long outro” I mean LOOOOONNNG outro.  There were several songs where he went on for at least 6 – 10 minutes.  Now, I love me some Lindsey Buckingham.  But I can only listen to him wail on his guitar for so long before I start thinking that it’s time to hear some words again.  I like guitar solos, and drum solos, and keyboard solos, and whatever.  But I don’t like it when they go on and on and on and on and on and you’re trying to stay interested, but pretty soon you are zoning out and when you come to it’s four minutes later the solo is still happening and you’re wondering if someone should tell Lindsey that it’s time to move on.

Favorite songs to see performed:  Tusk, Gold Dust Woman, Landslide, The Chain, Don’t Stop, Say You Will, Stand Back.


The Dancing Girls left about halfway through the concert.  After that, people started cycling in and out of those seats.  The girls left, I assumed to get more beer, and the seats were empty for awhile.  Then, after maybe 20 minutes, this guy and his wife? sit down in the chairs.  About two minutes later, the usher or security person or whoever comes by and kicks them out.  Then, these two old ladies sit down.  Old ladies meaning about 60 years old.  They look pissed off for some reason, kind of not enjoying themselves.  They hang out for maybe 40 minutes.  Then, they move over to the aisle seats and these two guys – one middle aged, one perhaps 65-70 sit down.  What the hell is this about?  It was pretty unnerving after awhile.


After the show ends with “Don’t Stop”, and the band goes offstage, the audience of course screams and hollers until they come back out.  They did another song – I think from the Say You will album – and leave again.  Then Mick comes out with John and another drummer and plays his body-drum-suit thingy for probably 15 minutes.  The whole band comes back out and does the last few lines of the encore song again, and that’s it.  We missed the encore in Grand Rapids because we wanted to beat traffic, but this time we wanted to see the whole show.


Getting out of a parking lot after a concert is always a pain in the ass.  But, as long as you don’t expect to move very fast, you’ll be okay.  The Man is driving, and all of the drives have been blocked by barrels, leaving only several avenues open to drive down.  No one knows where they are going, and we end up in three lines of traffic.  The Man observes that humans in cars are just like lemmings, and all we can do is hope that the head lemmings are leading us the right way.

Pretty soon, we realize that the left lane is not the right one to be in, because it’s not moving.  We would like to get over, but everyone is packed in pretty tight.  Oh well, we have nowhere to be.  Suddenly, the silver Cadillac next to us erupts in a flurry of outraged “What the fuck?”s.  The driver – a big dude – gets out of his car and begins shouting at someone several cars back.  A quick inspection reveals that there is a woman standing outside her car, yelling back.  From their conversation I gather that silver Cadillac people threw a big take-out container out of their car.  The lady in the other car saw him do it, ran up, grabbed the take-out box, and threw it BACK in their car.  Because she gives a hoot.  She was hollering “Keep your TRASH in your CAR!” and Mr. Cadillac was yelling back “Shut up, you bitch” and other gems.  Since Mr. Cadillac was in the middle lane, and he was out of his car, middle lane traffic was no longer moving.  The Man took that opportunity to maneuver in front of the Cadillac and into the “good” lane.  Before we pulled away, we caught Mr. Cadillac’s newest threat:  “I will fuck you in the ass!  I don’t care if you let me or not!  I will fuck you in the ass!”  Whoa.  I wasn’t expecting that one.  When you hear “I will fuck you…” in the middle of a fight, you can usually finish that sentence:  “I will fuck you up!”  But when did anal rape become the threat du jour?  It is a pretty scary threat though.  Strange choice, but all the more threatening for that.  I wondered aloud if he would have made the same threat to a man.  Somehow, that would have made it funnier.  Because two guys fighting are usually trying to be all tough:  “I will fuck you up beyond repair!”  “Oh yeah, well I will fuck you in the ass, dude!  Right in the ass!”  I think the first guy would back down.


We got home at about 1 AM.  I was very tired, had a headache, and my ears were ringing.  When I woke up this morning my throat hurt severely.  I did too much “WOO!”ing and “YEAH”ing. But it was a good concert, and I had a ton of fun.  I’m glad that we got the chance to see them again, and it was nice that we caught the last show of the tour.  It was a nice, intimate little venue and the crowd was fun.  I strongly suggest that if you like Fleetwood Mac and you haven’t picked up “Say You Will” yet, that you do so soon.  It’s a fun CD.

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Sep 14 2004

Alas, the no-bangs look. I knew it, sort of.

Published by under Photos

The Great Bang Questions of 2004 have been answered. Emphatically. Results have been tallied; all votes are in. Just to remind those of you who suffer from the deplorable disease of not remembering every detail of my life, I was trying to answer two Great Questions:
1) Can Jas successfully grow out her bangs?
2) Will she like the results?

The answers are YES and NO.

I can’t say I grew my bangs out ALL the way. Because, you know, my hair is down to the middle of my back and I’ve only been growing my bangs for less than a year. But they had gotten a couple of inches past my chin, to the point where they were becoming One with the rest of my hair. But, alas, the second question had to be answered in the negative. There were certain things I liked about the No Bangs thing (All of my hair back in a ponytail, one less thing I had to do in the morning), but then again, the big factor (looks) weighed against the positives.

When I got home from work this afternoon to get ready for the concert, I faced a person in the mirror I’ve been staring down way too often lately: the Crazy Hippie. The Crazy Hippie has no time to do her hair! She parts it in the middle of her head and it obscures her face most of the day. Her face is a strange, narrow rectangular shape because most of her cheeks are hidden behind the curtain of flowing locks! When she puts her hair into the “I can’t be bothered” ponytail for the oh-so-liberated look, her head looks enormous and her forehead bulges.

Many girls can pull off the no-bangs look. It was these girls who made me think I could do it, too. But, alas, I am not one of the fortunate. I gotta have my bangs. They add that little something extra to my look in the mirror that I’ve been vaguely missing for months.

So, I’m sorry to disappoint those of you (including The Man) who were in the no-bangs camp. But I have to look at myself every day in the mirror and I wasn’t liking what I was seeing anymore. Or for the last few months. Anyway, bangs.

And now, a Before and After by the World’s Worst Web CamTM. Both of these shots are less than an hour old.

This girl has no hair!

This girl looks much happier. And she has hair!

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Sep 13 2004

Daring commando missions.

Published by under Wedding

If your alias appears below, you owe me an address:

Eldest Miller Boy
Youngest Miller Boy

You Miller Boys will be the death of me yet.  I’ve always suspected it, but now I know for sure.

I started putting my invitations together on Friday, but after I did 50 of them I realized that I didn’t have one insert made yet, so I stopped.  Today I made up the missing insert (telling how to reserve a room at the hotel), and now I have to go back and put it into all the already done envelopes.  I wonder how much postage these are going to end up costing.

I managed to get many more addresses this weekend, thanks to a fruitful trip to Grandma’s, an e-mail response from The Man’s parents, and a phone call to my dad.  My mom is still holding out, but I’m planning a commando mission to her house.  I will combine this mission with a trip to see Mackers.  I will go home having seen my friend and clutching a fistful of necessary addresses.

Tomorrow we’re going to see Fleetwood Mac at the DTE Energy Theatre.  I hope I can enjoy it and not spend all night thinking about how I need to find a florist and get my dress altered.

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Sep 10 2004

One day there will be lemon-scented napkins.

Published by under The Fam,The Man,Wedding,Work

I am so happy it’s Friday.  This week at work has been nasty enough for me, I can only imagine how freaking horrible it’s been for the people who actually have to take phone calls.  On Wednesday (I think) we actually maxed out our trunk lines so people were getting busy signals.  That’s not good for an inbound call center.  Everyone is tense and Stylin I think is in a slow descent to hell on earth.  I, on the other hand, am staying pretty distant from the whole thing.  As I told The Man, I find it hard to get emotionally involved in a company that will be firing me soon after I get married.  So, while Stylin and Frenchy are staying here until the wee sma’s every night (or morning), I’m checking out between 5 and 6 PM, after putting in a normal work day.  I’m certainly not going to bust my ass as if I expect to be working here for the next however many years.  That sounds bitter, but it’s not.  I’m okay with not working here anymore, I just am not going to break myself for a company when I can see the end five months down the road (two months to the wedding, and a 90 day grace period afterwards).

The dresser is still not finished, and I’m getting tired of digging through a pile of clothes looking for socks or jeans or whatever I’m trying to put on myself.  Then again, all of our books are still in boxes also laying on the bedroom floor and I’m getting tired of digging through them to find the book that I want.

I’ve been doing the Slim Fast diet all this week and it’s going okay.  I’m probably not losing any weight because I haven’t been exercising like I’m supposed to, but at least I’m not stuffing my face constantly with junk food as I was last week. I can tell you two things about the Slim Fast “meal options”:  The chewy chocolate chip granola bars are really good, and their canned shakes taste like metal.  I think next time I won’t buy any shakes, I’ll just get the bars and eat those twice a day.  I snack on fruit twice a day and while I always feel slightly hungry, I only get REALLY hungry at the end of the day, so I’m actually motivated to cook dinner at night.  Last night was chicken pot pie and cherry cobbler!  The night before was spaghetti!  Tonight it’s tacos!  I’m cooking three times a week and something is not right about that.

There are two items I still need to add to the bridal registry, but they are chronically out of stock.  Oddly enough, I can’t add out of stock items to the registry, even though, theoretically, they will be in stock again one day.  It reminds me of that part in one of the Hitchhiker books where the people are stuck in stasis for a thousand years because their cruise ship is waiting for lemon-scented napkins.  I’m in stasis for want of a pitcher and a hostess set.  I hope I don’t have to wait for a thousand years.  Because I bet I won’t even get biscuits and tea from the Bed Bath & Beyond people.  Is that name supposed to be properly punctuated?  Is is “Bed, Bath, & Beyond” or just “Bed Bath & Beyond”?

This weekend I need to run out to Grandma’s and rifle through her address book for some of my cousin’s addresses.  They should have just kept living with their parents, then everyone would be happy.  Or, at least I’D be happy because I have all of my aunts and uncles addresses.  My ingrate cousins move away and go incognito.  Sadly, I need two of my bridesmaids’ addresses as well.  It’s pretty sick when I don’t know two of my good friends’ addresses (even though one of them doubles as an ingrate cousin).  I sent out threatening e-mails demanding addresses to a bunch of out-of-state friends, and about half of them responded.  The other half better jump on it, or else they are going to be left out of the guest list.  The Man delivered a timeline to his dad and stepmom, telling them that if they don’t get us a guest list, half of that family is not coming to the wedding.  We have yet to hear back from them, either.  I’d like to get started on the invitations this weekend because the cats have discovered the box they are in, and I would like to get them put together before they end up crushed and covered in cat hair.

I really like my new template.  It makes me smile, with the bright colors and the Yip-Yips.  When I showed it to The Man he said “What the hell are those things?!” I knew that The Man had a sheltered childhood, but no Sesame Street?  That’s just criminal.

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