Thursday, April 14, 2011

You know what I have yet to do? Brag that I got a picture with Sean Lennon.


Photo by Vanessa Pena, Photo editing by me.
Don't even try to hate. You know it's good. 


Okay, if you're one of my socially networked buddies on the twits or the tumbs, you're pretty tired of me talking about it, but you know what? I don't care.

And if you're not ...


 Twitter and Tumblr.


Go on, jump on my crazy train.



So anyway, DO YOU HAVE ANY FRIGGIN' CLUE HOW AWESOME I AM?! I TOOK A PICTURE WITH SEAN LENNON!!!

January 23, 2011. The Troubadour. Los Angeles.


Yes. This Troubadour.





The place where Lennon Senior was so AWESOMELY and drunkenly removed in '74?! Yeah. I KNOW! So, after I panicked about that for like a good week, the day had come. My "Ethel Mertz" AKA Vanessa and I picked up Bronwyn and off we girls went like thieves into the night- only I was nervously laughing and talking really fast and a little too loud and a little too much so turns out a good thing we didn't actually thief. We'd never have made it. I'm an embarrassment to even myself. 

So we ate, and I talked about puking the whole time. And then I geeked and had to have my pic taken in front of The Beatles on Hollywood Blvd. I had to; I was live facebooking my arrest, okay? 


And then we rolled up on Sunset, like rockstars, and stood in the ENORMOUS line, unlike rockstars. I started rambling on again about live facebooking my arrest and the woman in line in front of me looked at me like she was going to call the police on me herself and save Sean the hassle. I was off to an excellent start. 

So in we go- I start drinkin' (necessity) and we stand around for maybe a million years through some opening act and more waiting. And then Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger roll on stage and I begin mega- stare hoping against rationality that Sean senses my brain waves of love and decides to run away with me. He did look at me once, so it might have worked. I'm not totally ruling it out.

Photo by Vanessa Pena

See? Like he's staring into my soul. 


Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena


Photo by Vanessa Pena

So the show ends but not after Sean made a crack about his dad being thrown out of the place. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I realized he was leaving my life! and then Sean mentions that they'll be hanging out at the merch table. PAYDAY. I would walk up to him and he would propose. I knew it. So in line we went. Again. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Did I happen to mention that there are some freaky people hanging out in Hollywood after dark? Because, yeah. And they were waiting in line too. So was a guy dressed as a clown-bum or something. Not me though. I was calm, cool, collected, charming. All those "c" words. 

This is me about to cry and puke because I was getting too close to an actual real life Lennon. 

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

And so, somehow, with Bronwyn's help and speaking ability, I bought a cd I already owned and got it signed. 
Photo by Vanessa Pena
Photo by Vanessa Pena


Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

And somehow I squeaked out to Charlotte that I would like a picture and it turned into a me hogging photo-shoot. Sorry suckas behind me in line. HAHAHAHA. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble


Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

Although, I nearly puked the entire time. And I don't think I spoke more than a few words of rudimentary English and choking sounds and gurgles and I think part of me died at one point. I remember so very little. My legs were shaking so bad and my heart was racing and we left the Troubadour and I screamed, fell onto the cement, I may have peed myself, I don't remember.

I fangirled. I flat out fangirled. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

The John Lennon Troubadour story is in this blog post if you'd like to revisit that. And why wouldn't you?