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? 

Vanessa and I as Lucy and Ethel

Hahahah. I know, you don't hear from me in like two decades and then this. I know.

I miss you all.

Oh yeah, I need a title. Okay, NEW BLOG!

I was going to be a world famous writer. I was going to be a world famous poet. I was going to be a world famous rockstar. A world famous comedian. Just world famous at something. I make my parents laugh on facebook, that's where I'm at right now. 

I have piles of diaries and half written songs and unsent letters and a dry cleaning receipt (oops) and a dream journal- don't laugh! I'm really good at interpreting dreams, I took a 6 week class - and I've kept them all these years in hope that when I die my love ones will find them in a shoebox under my bed while crying and exclaim, "My god! She was brilliant!" and publish my greatness and I will be known as the next Emily Dickinson. I've met my loved ones- this scenario is unlikely. 

I must carry on alone. In blog form. This is probably a bad idea.  

May I present to you (imagine a drumroll here and maybe some kind of music like fireworks and Celine Dion is about to be announced)

THE NEW BLOG! 

But not a replacement blog, I still love you. Shh. Don't be like that. 

http://fangirlsuperherofootnote.blogspot.com/ 

Man alive! you are excited! I know, I know. 

She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry, still you don't regret a single day.

Or in other words:

Beatlemania!

I found this pic here

Twitter got me thinking (I know, right?) -  I have a bunch of tweeps that are new to the Beatle Machine and OBSESSED with any and all things Beatle and at first I was like, "Slow it down my ladies, savor the Beatle flavor" but in all honesty, I am totes prone to a Beatle freak-out at any given time as chronicled here for you in past bloggies of squeedom.  And I know this about myself. You all know this about me.

I found this pic here

And I thought back to when I was IN the mania -not that it's ever really left- and what started it, why did it manifest itself into at least a 15 year mental virus that turns everything I look at into deeper Beatle meaning. For example, while in high levels of mania I swore up and down that Jesus Christ Superstar was written about the Beatles break-up.... 

It's not that far fetched. 

Maybe I'm crazy... 

I found the JCS pic here  and the YJP pic here. 

DON'T FLAME ME!, religious people and rock opera people, and Webber-Rice people, Broadway people - just give it an objective view. (I'm totally revisiting this conspiracy theory of mine. And just like that. That's how fast the Beatle mind-virus works itself into what I'm doing.) So just relax. Relax. What Would Jesus Christ Superstar Do? Exactly. He would chill.

I stole this pic from here. 

So anyway, where was I? OH! The Beatles and me. My parents have always been into The Beatles. My mom more so, though she's a Paul fan so I actually grew up listening to Wings. I knew of the Fab Four, but as I, the very mature 4th grader that I was at the time also knew, The Monkees was were it was at man. The Beatles lost that round. Then something stirred one day in junior high for me. I don't even remember why, but I could not stop singing "Help!". So that afternoon, I got off the bus and ran to my dad's house and dug through his Beatle albums looking desperately for that song. Much to my frustration, my dad only owned 3 Beatles albums. Rubber Soul. The White Album. Abbey Road. "Help!" as you know is not on any of them. But I grabbed Rubber Soul hoping that maybe the song just wasn't called "Help!"

wiki link

I wore that album down to the skids. To this day, that opening twang of Drive My Car fills me with such peace and easiness and longing. SIGH. I have to keep typing or I will put the album on and that will be the end of it, my friends. So yeah, Rubber Soul is all time FAVORITE Beatles album for me. Hands down. It always will be. The White Album is my #2 and Abbey Road is my #3. You've got excellent taste, dad.

So my appreciation for The Beatles came YEARS before the mania hit me. In 1995 there were whispers of an Anthology greater than the world had ever known (is how I've blown it up in my mind). I couldn't tell you why I was so excited for it because I wasn't a huge fan, I mean, I liked them a lot. But you could feel something brewing in late '95, like a storm this excitement from people around- my mom, radio people, ABeatleC. It was kind of becoming a big deal, this tv special and disc bonanza.

In November of 1995 it happened. I sat down with my mom on the couch and we watched Anthology each night- I think it was broken up into like 5 nights or something. Anyway, I think it was the second night that it happened. I fell head over heels IN LOVE with Paul McCartney as he sang his little 'Please Please Me' parts on Ed Sullivan.



And it was over for me. For the rest of my life, I fear. Beatlemania took my rational thoughts, my love of literature and writing and it, it turned me into a fangirl who stood outside overnight many nights in the freezing December of Colorado Best Buy parking lots in hopes that I could get a free interview disc or free sweatshirt that brandished the Beatle product (check and check!).

But why? What would turn a rational fan into spasmic, overreacting zealot? What band in the history of ever (which I know, there isn't any other) can have that effect on millions? For 56 something years?! Beatlemania first happened to the world in '63-'64. Then again, when it got me in '95-'96 with Anthology and then again in '09 -'10 with the release of Rock Band and the Remasters. It blows my friggin' mind. That's insanity.

That's genius.

So fangirl away, my tweeps for we are powerless to stop it. I'm off to put on my holey (and Holy) free! Best Buy Beatles' sweatshirt, listen to some Rubber Soul on repeat and then probably just do the dishes.

Last night I was incepted into meeting John Lennon. And picking pillows up off the streets. And running like a Tony Little.

Story time with Amy! 

I was riding in the car with my mom (I think she was driving) and we were on city streets, streets I can't say I've ever been on before, but dirty trucks, buildings, alleyways, that sort of thing. We were behind a truck that had boxes piled up in the back of it. Every time the truck hit a bump, the boxes would shift and pillows would fall out, one at a time into the street and we would run over them. Brand new pillows! And I was telling my mom that I should grab a few of them because they were expensive, good pillows. I knew because of all the slaving away (telling people what to do) I did at Linens -N- Things for all those years. 

(We had cake fights)(And flabby upper arms)

The truck stopped and so did we. A blonde woman got out of the truck and my mom told her she was losing expensive pillows out the back of the truck. Dirty Do-gooder! So I offered to go retrieve some of them, hoping that I could hide one of those real good memory foam/gel ones for myself. Those things are like 100 bucks! So I was running REALLY FAST! Like I was a gazelle or something! Or on a Gazelle.

But it didn't seem too fast at the time. Anyway, I found a bunch of greasy foam bits but no pillows. I kept running and then I was like AHA! I remember! and I kept running, brushed off a dude selling something at a cart by telling him "Not now. I'm on a mission",

I was very serious-like. I ran into Hot Topic. It was more calm and chill in there than your typical Hot Topic. It was like a Warm Topic. Anyway, I thought, "Ooh, screw the pillows, I'm gonna chill out here for a little while and pick me up some tunes" and then I stopped with thought. "John Lennon runs this joint, I should just walk up to him and say hi like @ElnorYann from the twitters said she did. I could meet a real honest Beatle" thought I. So I turned around and there he was, full on denim suit, denim hat

(Classy) 

and there was Yoko just doing paperwork, never looking up. John was standing on something that made him VERY tall. I looked at him from crotch level, through the papers he was holding and I cleared my throat.

"Hey, um, can I shake your hand? I admire you a whole lot and-"

"Uh, oh yeah, yeah. There you go."

"Thanks"

Then he went back to his papers. So I grabbed my guts and my iPhone complete with pink rubber cover.

"Will you take a picture with me?"

He looked at Yoko who shook her head at him.

"Yeah sure, let's go over here I guess" he mumbled. I think I was bothering him but he was still polite. I asked a lady to take our picture and I was trying to set up the camera on the phone and I couldn't find the camera app. PANIC! John made some snarky comment that I can't remember now because my brain is clearly against me and would rather remember pillows than a conversation with a Beatle. And so I put my head against his chest/shoulder and nervously laughing said "I'll find it, I'll find it! Please don't leave me John. I'll fin-" and then I woke up.

Awesome.

LOOK AT MY AWESOME NEW PHOTOSHOP PICTURE!!! that I didn't make...

PhotoShop- Marry me. Like now. Okay, well after Elvis dies because- SWEET Mother Gladys! Look what my friend, Ingrid made me for my birthday two days ago!!!

But wait! There's more! 

Aaaaaaand they are coming soon in like a part two 'cause I'm lazy and somehow I got stuck with all this crap to do today. Like dishes and showering and grocery shopping and calling my grandma who is exactly like me, but in 81 year old form only not frail or weak or crazy minded. She's top of her game, my Grams. Like the grandma on Carol Brady's side. Only not as athletic or annoying or Florence Henderson in a wig and sweat suit. 

Here's my grandpa and grandma in the 50s. Man, they were cool then. They're cool now. That dog is dead though. Pretty sure. I also think my Grams might have been Lady Gaga.. 

Okay, I've got to go do work. Tell no one we've spoken.