Paul drove a security guard over the edge on Friday night.

We went to see Paul Stanley at the House of Blues in Atlantic City. Maybe he was a little stressed from the drive there. It was raining and traffic was a nightmare. Even more frustrating, we hit a bit of a jam right at the parking lot entrance. We were so close and so late. We weren't sure if there was an opening act or not and I'm sure Paul was worried about missing "Hide Your Heart" which according to Stanley's never changing set list, would be the second song after the title track to his new CD, "Live to Win."

But we were semi-lucky. We only missed the first few songs from the opening act, Slunt (Brilliant name! Brilliant!). They were by far the best opening act that I've seen in a long time, although Deadsy is very close. The band consists of a few ugly guys and two hot chicks, a bass player and a lead singer who also happens to be the wife of everyone in PA's old buddy from Fuel, Brett Scallions. They rocked.

There was a brief intermission. We sat in the balcony and I noticed a man hobbling to the front row of the balcony alone. Another freak show sat in the empty seat next to me. I looked around and saw a lot of geeky men who probably haven't left their parents' basements since the first Kiss farewell tour several years ago. There were also a few parents with their kids in tow sitting behind us. Strange strange bunch.

Paul gestured towards the hobbler, "That guy is going to cause our entire section to have to stand for the whole show."

I only wish Paul was that good at picking lottery numbers.

Stanley came out looking mighty fine for a man in his 50's, as effeminate as he is. He was wearing a black shirt and tight jeans. I'm not much for asses, but well, damn. He started with the usual aforementioned garbage and pretty much played the same set that he has been playing all tour. I did not want to stand up and encourage him to continue to play "Hide Your Heart" as I am no longer a thirteen year old girl. I noticed most of the others in my section were trying to sit, too.

Unfortunately, the hobbling jack ass was not. The freak show next to me walked down and asked him to sit. Surely, he could see just as well from his seat since no one was in front of him. The hobbler became belligerent. Several others asked him to sit, too. He pretty much told them to all fuck off too. He started hamming it up at this point, raising both hands and wildly gesturing. Now, he was just being an asshole to annoy us.

The waitress tried. She was denied. Then security came. The man pointed around to others who were standing. He moved over while the guard left, but as soon as he was gone, he moved back right in front of everyone. Several people left to get the guard. He eventually came back, talked to him, yet the man would not sit the fuck down.

So Paul stopped the guard as he was walking past us. "If I go down and punch that guy in the balls, will I get kicked out?" he asked. That was so unlike Paul. Maybe I'm just wearing off on him. The guard walked down again, but was still unsuccessful at getting the guy to sit. The people a row or two behind the hobbler spoke with him and got up to leave. One of them said something to me about getting moved to another section.

I yelled at the guard, "Excuse me! If you're moving them, then you're moving all of us because we can't see either. You better be ready to fucking do it. But I suggest that for that guy's safety, you move him instead because I'm going to go down there and punch him in the balls myself."

I heard yelling from behind me "I have little kids here!"

I said, "Yeah, those kids can't see." I later wondered if the guy was actually yelling at me for using foul language. I sure as hell hope not. I mean, what kind of father of the year takes his eight year old to see Paul Stanley?

The guard got on his radio, "I need back up. There's going to be a riot here pretty soon over this one guy." Back up came, they moved him. The rest of us could finally relax and enjoy the show.

Aside of that, the show was much better than I expected. Paul and I listened to Stanley's new CD on the way there and I'm less than impressed. It sounds like something Loverboy would put out, but with vocals that are even worse. But his voice sounded fantastic live, hitting notes higher than what I expected. He played stuff from his solo album with Kiss also and some regular old war horse Kiss songs as well, like "Detroit Rock City." The band backing him up was the house band from that Rockstar TV show. The guitarist was fantastic. He closed with "Goodbye" from the first solo album. I loved it.

We left and gambled a little. We more or less broke even. Then we almost fell asleep on the way home.

Yesterday was my nephew's first birthday party. He's my little buddy. I doubt I'd ever have a kid as cute and as good as him. We left there and went out for Halloween in a bar in Hazleton with my friends from high school. I really miss hanging out with them and I had such a good time. I went as Little Red Riding Hood and Paul was the Big Bad Wolf dressed like Grandma. He won a t-shirt for his costume, which was pretty good.

And ain't there one damn song that can make me break down and cry?

So yesterday, I went to the eye doctor for training for my contacts. I fucking hate my glasses and always have. I've worn them since I was two and my eyes are really weird. I'm extremely far sighted with astigmatism. I had contacts years ago, but they were gas perm. Owie!

I had no problem with the lenses once they were in. I had a hell of a time taking them out. Putting them back in? Not so bad. They were much more comfortable than the gas perm ones. They have me on a schedule to wear them that gradually increases as the week goes on.

Today? Big fucking problem. I couldn't get them in. They wouldn't stick to my eyeball. My eyelids are so tight, I can't open my eyes far enough to get them in reasonably.

I spent most of my lunch hour trying to get them in and failed miserably. I also spent another hour after work. No dice.

To make things even more complicated, I have a lot going on these next few days - a concert tomorrow night, my nephew's birthday party Saturday and a night out for Halloween Saturday night. On Monday, I'm leaving for North Carolina for a few days. My dick professor has given me an additional assignment for missing class, not to mention all the stuff I have to get done at work before I leave. I'm stressed to the point where I'm not sleeping and only eating when I remember that I have to. My mind is all over the place.

So I called the doctor. I was almost in tears. I told him I couldn't get them in. He said, "Chris, don't worry about it. You got them to enjoy yourself. Not make yourself crazy." I asked if I could postpone my schedule until I get back and he said to just call the Monday after I got back.

I hung up the phone and lost it. I just started sobbing and sobbing. I hate giving up on anything. I hate letting stress get the best of me like this. This isn't me. I can push through. I can do anything. This is just a fucking inconvenience and really bad time.

But now my eyes are too sore from crying. And that really nice bottle of Charles Krug Pinot Noir that has been begging for me to drink it since last Christmas is open.

Remember how I was handling my stress this time last year? I was a lush! See what I mean about quitting? It never resolves anything.

Music and Passion...Social D, Barry Manilow and Frank Black all in one blog

I've been so lazy lately.

Like right now. I've been cleaning on and off all day. I just have an all around lack of motivation to do anything. Really, I just want to dream and daydream. But instead, I'll update you on what's been going on here.

This week was fall break. I've been anxiously awaiting grade postings for my finance midterm and my capstone presentation. I have no clue where I stand right now with either of them. I'm shooting for the magna cum laude GPA which means I have to pull at least an A- average for the semester. Of course, there's another part of me that really doesn't give a shit and knows that as long as I pull C's in these two classes I'll still be an MBA.

Two weeks ago, Paul and I went to see Social Distortion with Blackpool Lights and Lost City Angels at the House of Blues in Atlantic City. That was fun. If you really want more details, Paul's blog does just as much justice as I ever could.

Last Saturday night, we stayed in Atlantic City at Bally's and went to see Barry Manilow. You're welcome to laugh at me all you want about this. I fucking love Barry Manilow. So did my mother before she passed away (Still laughing mother fucker? Yeah, I didn't think so). When I was a little kid and I was acting up or crying in the car, my mother would play Barry Manilow to get me to calm down. She claimed that after a while I started asking for it and that Manilow was my first real word after all that Mama Dadda bullshit.

On the way to the show, we decided to stop at Tower Records since they are liquidating everything. I'd be willing to bet I'm the first person to ever buy an Agent Orange CD on the way to a Barry Manilow concert. We got to AC, went through a nightmare to park and were anally raped to park in the Claridge's garage (angry letter to Claridge, Bally's and the AC Chamber of Commerce is pending once my lazy streak has passed). We skipped dinner and downed a bottle of champagne instead. Then we headed off to the show just a bit tipsy.

We got there and grabbed a few Heiney's to keep the buzz going. Barry came out in a wheelchair, this being his first show since his hip surgery (stop your laughing. I'm warning you), but got up and danced with his background bimbos. He was great. He started with "It's a Miracle" and then moved into songs from the 40's and 50's. He sang "Moonlight Serenade" and pulled some lady with a striking resemblance to Janet Reno on stage with him while looking her in the eye and singing to her. It was somewhat disturbing.

There was a brief intermission. Someone came around and handed out glow sticks. The whole audience had them by the time he came out for the second set which was all songs from the 60's and 70's. He mimicked smoking a joint before going into "Yesterday" and then finished with his big songs from the 70's including "Weekend in New England," which made me tear up thinking about my mom a little and of course "Copacabana." All in all I loved it. Paul and I stopped at Johnny Rockets on the way back to Bally's and played some nickel slots at Wild Wild West. Then I stayed up way too late watching Jersey Girl on TV. On the way home the next day, we stopped on South Street for a look through the Tower Records there. I'm probably the first person to buy a New York Dolls CD on the way home from a Barry Manilow concert. We had cheesesteaks and then came home and took naps.

This was all to celebrate our fourth anniversary, which was actually on Thursday. Thursday was not a bad day, either. Paul surprised me with a basket of daisies at the office and later we headed to the World Cafe in Philly to see Frank Black, a man I consider to be a god.

Frank had The Reid Paley trio open, which was really a duo - Reid with his guitar and a stand up bass player. They were great. They did a rendition of "I'm Not Dead (I'm in Pittsburgh)" since he wrote most of it. This had me a bit worried that Frank would not do it. Luckily, my fears were unfounded.

The last time I saw Frank was when he opened for the Foo Fighters back in August. This time was completely different. Last time, Frank did not address the audience at all. This time, he told stories and made jokes. He started the show with a few acoustic songs (some of them Pixies songs), which he hadn't been doing on this tour until a few shows ago. I think it's brilliant. It gets them out of the way so that people aren't yelling "Wave of Mutilation" during the whole show.

In case you care, here is the set list: (solo) Los Angeles, Cactus, Where is My Mind, Water Song, California Bound, Wave of Mutilation, I Gotta Move (referencing David Lynch and Eraserhead with a Philly connection), Brackish Boy, (with the band) Nadine, Ten Percenter, Horrible Day, Living On Soul, All My Ghosts, My Terrible Ways, Bullet, I Burn Today, I'm Not Dead (I'm in Pittsburgh), Do What you Want Gyeneshwar, Raider Man, Suffering, Mr. Grieves, That Burn Out Rock and Roll, All Around the World, Johnny Barelycorn, Six Sixty Six, Dead Man's Curve, I'll Be There and Sing For Joy.

The World Cafe is hands down the nicest venue to see a show in Philly. There is an upstairs lounge that serves food and has a stage and then the downstairs area that has the major acts. We had mezzanine seating right over the balcony. It was nice to sit and relax and not have to worry about being pushed or have someone really tall stand in front of us blocking our view. They also serve micro brewed beer. I had a Magic Hat #9, which I haven't had in a long time. Of course, this proved to be a problem as I forgot that #9 gets me drunk quickly for about 10 minutes and then goes right through me like a Betsy Wetsy doll. My only complaint about the World Cafe is that the bathrooms are kind of a pain in the ass to get to. This proved to be problematic as the #9 kicked in during "Bullet" (my favorite Frank Black song). The next few songs were also ones that I had been waiting to hear, especially Gyeneshwar as it's rumored it will be on a new Pixies album to come out next year some time. By the time he got to "Suffering," I couldn't take it anymore and thought I was going to pee my pants. I came back just in time for "Mr. Grieves" which seemed to be an impromptu thing. When I walked back in from the bathroom it was very quiet. He played it without the band. I would have been really mad if I would have missed that. "Sing For Joy" was his encore, although he never really left the stage.

Well, that's enough of my rambling for today. I better go finish my chores. Until next time, kids.

Things heard at the bar last night

"Be the Buddha and shut the fuck up."

"What you probably don't know about me is that I'm Schuylkill County's foremost expert on Winston Churchill."

"Call Jimmy and tell him if I can't have him, no one else will."

"If you were my husband, I'd poison your coffee." "Nancy, if I was your husband I'd drink that coffee."

"I can't wait to be a dirty old man."

"My Mexican friends think you're cute. I told them you're married." (pause) "And that I was bangin' ya for a while." (another pause) "They didn't believe me."

"You're such an alcoholic."

"Could that shirt be any tighter?"

"He was a modest man with much to be modest about."

"Okay. Let's go see Joe Black."

"Does the name John Wilkes Booth mean anything to you?"

"Those liver spotted hands have kneaded a lot of dough over the years."

"Next time we're all drunk at Daniel's like that, you know what we should do? We should make a snuff film."

Lots of Thelonious Monk without any sax.

"Some people bring home slips of paper with phone numbers when they leave a bar. Not me. My slips of paper all have book titles on them."

"By the time I got there, it was like watching a Chinese movie."

"So there we were at 3 am Saturday night solving all of the world's problems. The next day, we all woke up with headaches."

"My dirty little secret is that I'm not registered to vote." "My dirty little secret is that I'm registered twice. What do you want to get in on?"

It is hard for an empty bag to stand up right.

The title of this really has nothing to do with the actual entry. I was eating a fortune cookie and that happened to be what was inside. It's an interesting little quotation.

Anyway, this has been a bizarre week. A grade school classmate of mine died of a drug overdose. A large general store in the area where I grew up was leveled by a horrific fire. Fortunately, no people died in the fire, but several small pets and a llama perished. And then there was the whole bizarre Amish school shooting.

What the fuck is going on here?

So last week I won a radio contest. Everyday, the only radio station that I'm able to pick up in my office has an impossible trivia question. Last Friday, the question was "In 1979, Jimmy Carter was canoeing and something strange happened to him. What was it?" I got the answer right and they told me that I won a $25 gift card to the Giant grocery store as well as a chance to win a backpack full of school supplies that they were going to draw for a half hour later. I ended up winning the school supplies too! They said, "And you're not going to believe who our winner is! It's Chrissy - our own Jimmy Carter expert from earlier today!"

I suppose I've been called worse things.

Laura and I went to the station today to pick up the prize and I told the receptionist that I was there to pick up the two prizes. She went through her book and said, "Chrissy, did you know you were the grand prize winner?"

I said, "Yeah, actually. I heard them announce it."

The lady looked a little disappointed. I said, "Wait. I'll pretend that I didn't know. Go ahead and tell me again." So she did and I said, "REALLY?!?!?! OH WOW! YOU'RE KIDDING?!?!" really loud and jumped up and down. A couple people in the adjoining cubicles came out and talked to me then. Another guy brought out the backpack and there was so much stuff that went with it that they couldn't even fit it all in. This is what I got:

2 reams of paper

5 notebooks

10 packs of pencils (12 pencils in each...guess what's going to be in your stocking this year)

10 blank CDs

A three hole punch (I've needed one of those desperately for school for quite some time now)

A calculator

A six pack of post-its

More post-its in one of those twisty shapes

6 packs of note cards

Twisty crayons

About a dozen of those foamy grip things you put on your pencils

A super duper stapler that can staple up to 15 pages at a time (Ooh! Ahh!)

3 erasers

A pack of those erasers that you put on your pencils

A six pack of purple glue sticks (my favorite color...perfect for huffing!)

A pack of skinny highlighters

A pack of big yellow highlighters

3 rolls of tape (which I never seem to have in my house, especially when I need to wrap a gift)

AND

A roll of duct tape (since when is duct tape a school supply?!?!?)

They also threw a bunch of bumper stickers in there.

And to think the only reason why I bothered picking it up was because I'm going grocery shopping tonight and thought the $25 gift card would come in handy. I really hit the mother load.

I have been sort of out of touch all week. I had a group presentation in school on Tuesday night that monopolized a lot of my time. On my way to the presentation, my tire blew out. I had to call Paul to come save me and swap out cars. I'm so lucky to have him. I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't there. I was really freaked out. I called my professor before I even called AAA. I felt like I was letting my group down. Luckily, I was able to make it to class only 15 minutes late. And my group wanted to be the last to present anyway, so that got us out of going first.

The weirdest thing was that I had a dream over the summer that I missed a presentation for class because I blew out a tire. In the dream, I was only a mile or so away from where it actually happened.

Wednesday, I traveled with my boss to meet the new branches that I will be handling. It was a nice little road trip and everyone that I met seems really nice. I now officially have a lot on my plate, taking on three more branches in addition to the five that I already handle. But at least I won't be bored at work anymore.

October is looking like it will be very busy. I have a few concerts coming up. I'm actually going out for Halloween this year. And I also get to go to Lake Lure, NC for a business trip with the guys again. I had such a good time there last year. I can't wait.

Did you ever wake up to find a day that broke up your mind-Stones @ Giants' Stadium with Kanye West

Who the fuck decided that this was a good idea? I feel cheated. Halifax gets Sloan as an opening act. Chicago gets Elvis H. Costello, for crying out loud. East Rutherford, New Jersey? We get Kanye Fucking West.

The only reasonable explanation that I could come up with was that they were catering to the New York faux hipster crowd who think that it's cool to like the Rolling Stones. I think that sucks. I've been listening to the Stones since I was literally in diapers thanks to my older sisters. If you don't recognize the opening base line to "Live With Me" they shouldn't let you in.

I'd love to say that this is the end of my bitching, but it's not. I'll get on with my recap, though.

Paul (who has stolen my thunder by already blogging about the show, thus creating a lack of motivation on my part) and I got to this show early, even though I had been saying all day, "Eh, Kanye takes the stage at eight. So that gives us extra time." We arrived at our seats off to the side of the stadium at the very last row on the top long before he went on.

I'd like to take a moment right now to say an extra special "Fuck you!" to Ticketmaster. Lots of fans totally got dicked on advanced ticket sales. They did not actually give the best seats available in each price range to people on the pre-sale, which we were able to utilize. Had we purchased our tickets after the pre-sale at the same price range, we could have had tickets on the floor. This is not my only issue with Ticketmaster and I really think someone should investigate their practices. But that is another blog for another day.

You can probably guess right now about how I feel about Kanye West. Oh, I love his politics! Anyone who has the balls to go off script and bad mouth the President on national tv is ok with me. His music? Well, eh. I mean, I know that one song from an episode of the Boondocks. And I saw him do something on the Chappell show. But no, I'm not a fan of his music really. And I can't imagine too many other people at the show were, either. Hardly anyone was at their seats. He kept saying that he was doing his music for the people just coming to his seats and for all the haters. Thanks, Kanye. But that's really unnecessary. At one point, I looked at Paul and said, "I really wish he'd stop talking over the music like that." That pretty much sums up my thoughts on his performance. He's no Elvis Costello.

There was a really long intermission. We expected the Stones to come on stage no later than 9:15, but we were worried when a half hour after that had passed. To make matters worse, there was a group of 38 people from some work organization seated directly next to us. No one wanted to sit in their assigned seats and this caused them to stand in our row directly in front of us for long periods of time while they tried to figure out who would sit where each time a new group of drunk assholes arrived. After they stood in front of me for over five minutes, I schwoopie eyed the security guard to come over and handle things. He got them all to sit rather quickly. Unfortunately, I found myself doing this throughout the show. At one point, a guy was standing in front of Paul smoking and had his cigarette just inches from his face. I asked him to watch what he was doing. The guy said he was sorry, but when he walked away, he deliberately ashed all over Paul. Security Guard #774 (aka My New Boyfriend) asked us if we wanted him escorted out. We told him no, mostly out of fear of retaliation from the other 37 drunk assholes that were with him.

There were also two other drunk assholes to my right who were independent of the large group. My lover #774 had no patience for them and threw them out after accusing them of bumping into me. The crowd was such a pain in the ass.

Wow. I just realized how miserable all this sounds. I must say that this was by far the best Stones show that I've seen. The setlist (It's Only Rock'n Roll, Live With Me, Monkey Man, Sway, Far Away Eyes, Streets Of Love, Just My Imagination, Midnight Rambler, Tumbling Dice, You Got The Silver, Little T&A, Under My Thumb, Rough Justice, Start Me Up, Honky Tonk Women, Sympathy For The Devil, Jumping Jack Flash, Satisfaction, and Brown Sugar for an encore) was by far the best of the three times that I've seen them. I love the more obscure stuff. I could do without the crap that you hear all the time like "Jumpin' Jack Flash," "Honkey Tonk Woman," "Satisfaction," "Start Me Up" and "Brown Sugar" personally. I think they all sound too much alike. When Mick announced that they were doing "Far Away Eyes" Paul and I both looked at each other in disbelief and yelled "Holy shit!" in unison. The Keith Songs were great. The only way they could have been better would be if he had done "Before They Make Me Run." But I'll take this. I've already seen him do "Happy" at a different show. I also had fun trying to figure out what they were going to play next and called "Midnight Rambler" before they even started playing it really.

And yeah, they look old. They *are* old. But they still sound great and they still have such great energy. I'd love to see all these assholes who go around saying that they're ancient and about to break a hip run around on stage like that when they're in their late 60's. They're amazing.

Toward the end of the show, when they started to play all the songs that I mentioned before that I don't like, the crowd finally got into it. You can tell the only people who can afford these tickets are the people who just go for status. That's sad. I wish there had been more "true fans" there. At this point in the show, Paul leaned over and said, "Enjoy these last few songs. This might be the last time we see them."

I said, "If I have to enjoy these last few songs, they're going to have to play something different."

The show finally finished some time around midnight. We still had a long drive home and work at 7 am the next day. Plus, my boss was visiting my office. I went in the next day extremely tired.

But it was so so worth it.