Rock and Roll at the Hollywood Bowl

I know I know I know I know I know. I owe you all a Paul McCartney story. Even those of you who don't want to know, I owe you espesh, because I'm like that.


I have been muted by Paul's amazingness. It's been a week and a half since the Hollywood Bowl show and I have nothing to say of any smarts.

HE WAS AMAZING.

HE WAS CHARMING.

HE WAS HILARIOUS.

....he was a Beatle!...!...

So, the thing of it was, I was cool, calm collect when I was just seeing the dude from Wings. He rocked it. He was all kinds of rock star.

Then he sang "All my Loving" and I lost my mind!

I went from seeing "the dude from Wings" to seeing an friggin', honest to god Beatle.

SWOON. 

How do I talk about that? How do I put that into words?

There was a woman on the tram sitting next to me on the way there that had seen McCartney five times. And as she told me this she began to cry. I'm sitting there ready to throw-up or faint and she's crying. We bonded over our stupidness. I know lady. I know!! Hugs!! Then she tried to hook me up with her son. Thanks no.

Helter Skelter sounded as hard core as it did on record in 1968. Paul is 67 years old.

I guess just some pictures I took right? Okay. They suck, but okay.

The bus ride to the show. 

I'm a bad picture taker. 

Too bad I had the shaky fist, this picture would've been sweet. 

"I'll take a bottle of wine, please. Can you put that in a bum's cup. I don't want to look too classy."

Said bum's cup. 

Is that Slash?!

Me chilly and freezin' and representin' Wings! with wine! 

You can see the Hollywood sign up there in the left-handish corner. 

Lights! 

If you could see it, you would know that there is a rad photo-collage of Paul's life going on. Since you can't see it, I'll tell you that our Cabo picture was in there. Thanks Paul!

Paul brought his A-game. He arrived by Supernova. 

The heat of Paul's hotness cannot be contained. 

"and when this ever changing world in which we live in makes you give in and cry, say live and let die" (explosion!)

"Say Live and Let Die"

(guitar solo)

Bus ride home

So, yeah. 

The L.A. Times review of the show was dead on. 

And I didn't take any video 'cause, of course, my camera died. I had to use my camera phone. That's hardcore though, don't sell that short. Anyway. 

Here's a transcript from my facebooking that day. Pathetic. 

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24 hours and 10 minutes away from McCartney and I'm choking and dying 'cause coffee went down the wrong pipe. If I do indeed choke and die, go see Macca in my honor. Sing real loud. Cry. Faint. But don't worry- I will fight this drowning with my mighty cough.

March 29 at 7:20pm · Comment · 

Beatlemania level has been raised to stage 5

March 30 at 2:30pm via Facebook for iPhone · Comment · 

Hold your ears. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

March 30 at 5:05pm · Comment · 

On the shuttle. I am about to cry. Embarrassing. I'm totally a stupid fangirl. I may vomit or scream or faint or cry. And I have bad hair.

March 30 at 5:29pm via Facebook for iPhone · Comment · 

 Holy Macca.

March 30 at 11:20pm via Facebook for iPhone · Comment · 

 Okay, I'm a little less fainty and swoony and I think I love Paul McCartney even more now, if you can believe that! I ripped my ears off during All My Loving. He totally encouraged me to sing with him during Hey Jude and the whole front of the stage blew off! during Live and Let Die. WAY cooler than RockBand.

March 31 at 12:25am · Comment · 

Pathetic.

And this, this made me bawl my heart out.

I'll tumblr for ya, I'll tumblr for you (and 'cause everyone else is.)

Okay, so I finally did tumblr cause everyone else did too. And I like to be cool.

What the crap is this thing?!

I'm failing tumblr already, as I've been calling it "flickr" all week. It's the e's fault. Eff the e.

And now I may have busted it.

It seems like the love child of twitter and blogspot. I think I like, but I have no friends.

Someone explain this to me. Oh yeah, and be my friend over there! It'd be awesome. We'll bake cookies and do each other's hair and maybe flash our business around like in Grease. 

Oh, the link I s'pose.  http://fangirlsuperhero.tumblr.com/

"Some girls are Rhoda girls. Some girls are super girly Mary girls" - says a quote I read today

Actually, it was during a need for more Sesame Street and general Muppet knowledge that I saw this

Quotes about Abby

We have our wacky, and we have our gentle. But we wanted a lead female character. If you think about Mary Tyler Moore, some girls relate to Rhoda, who's our Zoe, and some girls really relate to Mary, who’s a girly girl. And we didn’t have that girl. We made a definite decision to sit down with the writers to figure out what this character might be.

- Liz Nealon ^[9]

And I started thinking how every one in my life falls into a character role on the The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

And this is what I do, by the way, I try to make everyone I know fit into the Johnny Bravo suit.

Awesome! So on with my show. Now, mentally gather everyone you know and try to group them into these categories, oh go on and do it. It's mental exercise at worst, at best, you're in a tv show!! Holy crap!

There's your typical, lovable nice girl. Optimistic. Smart. On her game, but throws horrible dinner parties and is sort of a secret geek hanging with the cool kids. And sometimes just breaks into tears. And has kicky hair! In this friend of yours, you've got your Mary Richards.

Then there's that girl who's jaded, pessimistic, hilarious!, crass, and a fab dresser.  This is your Rhoda Morgenstern

Then you've got your Lou Grant. He's tough, he's bossy, he's mean but underneath all of that he means well and he'll give you a hug while calling you an idiot baby for needing a hug.

Then there's nice guy, nerd, quick with a quip bestie platonic guy. Murray Slaughter

Then there's your egotistical, self-absorbed idiot. You have one of these. We all have one of these. This, my friends is your Ted Baxter

And you know that one girl, always trying to be besties but who's really kinda lame and busting into your conversations, but you hang out with her anyway? This is your Phyllis Lindstrom. (I want to be a Mary or a Rhoda, but I'm pretty sure this one is me. Feel sad for me or I'll tell you a story.)

You've got your Georgette Franklin . ...Ditz. Peppy, annoying ditz.

And you've got your slutty, always wantin' all over your man Sue Ann Nivens. She doesn't really want anything to do with you. And you know what, Sue Ann? That hurts. Go live with some bitter old ladies, one of which will think she's the hot tamale. And then tell me how it feels. 

And there you have it! You have recognized your friends, I'll bet. 


But like all things real life- and unfortunately for me there is a real life and people are real people and not funny characters in a 70's sitcom you look at this list and realize we're all Marys and Rhodas and Lous, Murrays and Teds and Phyllises and Georgettes and Sue Anns. 


Just like Breakfast Club summed up we'd be. 


"Ooeeoo I look just like Buddy Holly, woah, oh and you're Mary Tyler Moore. I don't care what they say about us anyway, I don't care 'bout that." - said weezer. 





But just for fun, which one are you?

"Let the sunshine in, the suuuunshine in" or "How I became a dirty hippie"

Maybe it's just because it's the first day of spring and my heart and soul are full of wonderment and goodness and bountiful life. Maybe it's because I spent the morning in a bookstore which I never get to do anymore. Maybe it's because of these.

Whatever it is, I feel like I've seen the true essence of life and it makes me love everything about every one of you.

I've not been drinking.

Or drugging.

I'm serious. I admire the things that you all can do, especially that of which I can't, and that of which I'm not. That is awesome.

And for no other reason than being a dirty hippie (I didn't even shower today) I share with you these pictures I have taken with my little ol' camera phone these past couple days while being out and enjoying life.

I hope this doesn't mean I die soon.

And if it does mean that I'm dying soon, PLEASE Death, can you wait until after I've seen Paul McCartney?

Don't worry, I'm not dying soon. I struck a deal with the devil.