Date Night: Def Leopard

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I am younger than my husband by four and a half years. Those four and a half years are not much except you need to add in the sequestered life I led on an isolated bee farm to understand that essentially my husband and I did not grow up in the same decade. I grew up listening to “The Oldies” on my mother’s radio. My dad had the television at night and so I never saw a single episode of “Beverly Hills 90210” or “Melrose Place.” I would nod my head when other kids my age would talk about “New Kids On The Block,” but the only time I ever heard their songs were at school dances. My sister and I would rewatch “Anne of Green Gables” during the day and read books at night.

When I heard that Def Leopard would be performing near us, I knew my husband would want to go see them. And honestly, it seemed like a good time.

So I purchased the tickets, made reservations at our favorite restaurant in town, and waited for the concert with nervous excitement.

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The day arrived and you will not believe this, but I did not get an outfit picture. We were rushing because my husband got home from work and we immediately had to leave for our dinner reservations. But I did get a picture of my shoes. They are the coolest pink. When I went to Anthropologie and did some reviews, I walked into the sale room and a woman was holding a pair of these shoes in her hand. “What size are those?” I breathlessly asked. Well, they were two sizes too small for both myself and her, and the only ones in the store. I tracked them down during an extra percentage off sale and scooped them up. I love a happy shoe story ending, don’t you?

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Okay. So, I said I really went to the concert for my husband. And that is true, but it is also true that I went for the food. The food. I adore the steakhouse on the premise of where Def Leopard performed. And the only time we splurge and eat there is when we go to a performance (such as when we saw Cyndi Lauper last year). It did not disappoint. I have eaten steak at some of those restaurants that are known for steak in New York, San Francisco and Las Vegas. I have never had steak as good as this steak anywhere else. The chef gives you a complimentary amuse-bouche when you are seated. He also sends out his handmade truffles and candy gummies with the bill. It is expensive but worth it.

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We finished our meal and headed to the venue. There was a man sitting next to me on my left that had been going to see Def Leopard every year, by himself, since 1987. Oddly enough he left right before the concert was over. He sang every song. I knew one of them. One. Yep. “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” My husband knew them all. And he recalled listening to them perform when he was in fifth grade on a fence in his backyard as the sound carried from the concert to his house. I loved that he finally got to see them live in concert on this evening.

There was a woman in her early fifties sitting by herself on our right. She confessed that she had been to their concert the night before in a different city. So, of course I said to her, “Wow. You must really like the band.”

She shook her head, “no.” She admitted that she had never listened to Def Leopard before until the day before. Someone had bought her the tickets to the two venues as a gift. I thought that was an interesting gift.

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I am a sitter.

Period.

So, I was stressed that the people in front of me would stand up, and gasp!, dance during the concert. This would give me the task of standing up myself. Well, the people who purchased the seats in front of us never showed up. So, I could have sat but we actually stood and swayed (I would surely hesitate to call clapping your hands to music as dancing) to the music.

But the only thing that kept running through my head during the show was, “I should have studied these songs before the concert.”

Yes, what I was thinking during a rock concert is that I really should have studied.

Poser.

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It ended up being a fun night. I will look back upon it and smile. Have you been to any concerts this year? Do you like the dinner or the event itself better? I think that is why I am so fond of dinner theater. You get the best of both worlds… And you don’t need to stand… Or study.

Dear Children: First Day Of School 2014

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I was informed over the summer that I do not know what junior high school boy’s fashion looks like. This might surprise you, but I am going to take that as a compliment. For many reasons.

I also learned this summer that I love sleep. Okay. This is not new. But gosh, I am going to miss late summer mornings. On the first day of school, I sobbed all of the way home after dropping you off and then crawled into bed and took a nap with your daddy. Just so you know this has continued for the last two days. It is my new favorite thing. A nap after waking. Although is that a nap? Or was my brief awake time merely a walking snooze?

Let us recount the first day of school for those of us not in our household:

I had thought the morning was going well. One child was out the door. I only had one to go. I thought it was the easy one. My daughter had needed me to flat iron her hair, help with her make-up and scrutinize her clothing skin exposure earlier in the morning. Okay, the last one was unwanted. But I cannot help it. I am a mom.

So, I thought I could cruise through the remainder of the morning with my son. All he had to do was put on a t-shirt and pants. Easy.

Except.

Well, the kid has been living in his pajamas and swim trunks for the last week. He went to put on his new first day of school shorts.

They would not button.

Not only would they not button. The button-hole and the button were so far apart it was The Grand Canyon Of Skin between them. What to do?

He unexpectedly had had a huge growth spurt and all of his pants suddenly did not fit. It was ten minutes before we had to leave.

Well, no big deal, I thought. I always purchase the next size up in pants on huge discounts when I see them. I pulled out a larger size replica of the shorts he had outgrown. They had been $6 at The Gap last year and still had the tags attached to them. They also surprisingly sported a large crusty yellow stain across the lower thigh when I went to take the tags off. This probably explains the low price and definitely explains the scream you heard from my house on Wednesday morning. There was no time to wash them. I hastily, and with great stress, found another pair in a drawer.

Note to self: next year have all of the first day of school outfits inspected and tried on before you have ten minutes to get to the school.

So, let us skip the remainder of the day (Nap. Eat. Nap. Worry) and get to the part where my children recounted their day to me over dinner:

Me to my son: “What was the best part of your day today?”

My son: “I really like my computer teacher.”

Me: “What do you like best about him?”

My son: “I love the chairs in his classroom.”

Me: “What?”

My son: “The chairs in his classroom. They swivel.”

Me: “The thing you like best about your teacher is his swivel chairs?”

My son: “Well, yea, and he has a cool classroom.”

And by cool classroom, he means a room filled with computers and swivel chairs. He lucked into his perfect elective. And hopefully not a swivel-chair-concussion.

I turned to my daughter and asked her the same question I had just asked my son, “What was the best part of your day today?”

My daughter: “Definitely the professional hugger at the pep rally.”

Me: “What the heck is a professional hugger?”

My daughter: “I don’t know but he made me cry.”

Me: “Because he hugged you?”

My daughter: “No, ugh, Mom! Because he gave the best speech.”

Me: “Did he hug anybody?”

My daughter: “No. Mom! There were hundreds of people there.”

Me: “Well, I would expect nothing less from a professional hugger. Hmmmm. I want to be hugged by a professional hugger. Maybe I am a professional hugger, only I don’t even know it because I can’t hug myself. Hug me. Let me know how I measure up.”

My daughter: “Mom! He didn’t hug me!”

Me: “Yes, I know. But as a professional hugger he must have looked very huggable so I bet you could imagine how he hugs. So just compare that to this.”

My daughter running away: “Mom!…”

That about sums it up. Swivel chairs and professional huggers. The first day of school is always full of surprises. I had started to cry that morning and my son had stopped me and said, “Mom. Don’t be that mom.”

He doesn’t know that I am always that mom.

This is a tough transitional year for me. I no longer have children in elementary school. And I never will again. No hallways decorated with sunshine faces. No noodle plates. Or Mother’s Day Teas. I have had to splinter my heart with a leftover noodle when a hole burst open from the dried-out Elmer’s glue that had been holding it together.

To my children:

Last year was an amazing school year.

You daughter, found your footing in high school and I trust in your growing maturity to continue to thrive. I am amazed at your generous spirit. Your ability to speak to anyone without fear. You surpassed me with your efficient order many years ago. Of papers. Plans. Life. You never judge and are always fair. I strive for your morals. I worry that you take on too much. An imperfectionist raising a perfectionist is my greatest challenge on my journey as your mother. You are inspiring.

You son, ended your early-childhood schooling with amazing grades and a vocabulary that I envy. You started a brand new school this year. With deodorant. Growth spurts. And a wise acceptance of change. I worry about your organizational skills that you unfortunately earned from your parents. But I have faith that you will do what you always do and breeze through your education as you gather every leaf on the tree of knowledge without ever seeming to need the wind to help you soar.

Good luck, my children. I am proud of you. Work hard. And may the Air of Wisdom be always a presence at your back and an easy whisper in your ear.

Love,

Mommy (sorry. Forgot. It is probably just Mom now)

That Mom

Rose Bowl Flea Market July 2014 Recap

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We left our house at 5:00 in the morning to be sure to get down to Pasadena and get the good parking ahead of the crowds. I knew I wanted to pay the extra entrance fee to enter at 7:00 instead of waiting for the general public fee of $8 at 9:00 in the morning. The entrance fees per person go like this:

Before 7:00 a.m. = $20
7:00-8:00 a.m. = $15
8:00-9:00 a.m. = $10
9:00 a.m. and later = $8

I find that before 7:00 most vendors have not finished setting up, so it is generally not worth the extra $5. In fact I overheard a lady complaining about it to her companion that she felt ripped off when so many vendors had not even begun to display their wares.

Even at 7:00 there are still people arriving but the majority of the vendors are ready to deal.

We knew we wanted to be in and out.

Make a quick trip of it.

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Here are a few tips:

1. Arrive early and then leave early to beat the crowds.

2. Haggle. Haggle. Haggle. I never pay asking price. It is the name of the game. It is a friendly conversation. They expect it. You should do it. It is fun. The end.

Wait. I spoke too soon:

Funny thing about that. We were leaving and these two hipster chicks were carrying the most amazing leather chairs to their Range Rover. I knew how much those chairs were worth because Emily Henderson has a pair. And Anthropologie has recreated them and sells them for almost $2500 each. So, I had to ask.

“How much did you pay for those?” I rudely quipped.

“$700 for the both of them,” one of the girls replied. I wanted to bite something in my jealousy.

“That is a fantastic price!” I told them.

“You think so? He wanted $1500 for both but I threw out $700 and he agreed really quickly… Almost too quickly.”

Ha! That happens every time. You always wonder if maybe you could have done better. Either way those girls scored. So be prepared with your offer and know what something is worth.

3. Bring a cart. We used to lug around a beach cart, but now we have a handy dandy cart that we purchased for $20 last year at the flea market. They rent them for $15 at the entrance but some booths near the back (of course) also sell them.

4. Read Emily Henderson’s Flea Market Tips. It is handy. I do not think you need a notebook because most of us have cellphones that we can just write the booth’s info down into.

5. Do not hesitate. We lost out on the coolest storage end tables because we decided to walk around and think on it. We did end up getting their smaller cousin for a great price ($20) and he worked out perfectly where we needed him (pictures in a future post). But they were something my husband really wanted, so that was a bummer.

Things are one of a kind so they sell quickly and early.

6. Pay for parking. VIP Parking is $15 for the upfront parking. It is a Godsend. You will be doing a tremendous amount of walking. Why walk more after a long day? This is especially true if you are buying large pieces. This is not a store and you are required to get your items to the car yourselves. It is worth it.

Okay, enough! Let’s get into the flea market all ready!

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I waited in line until exactly 7:00. And I do mean exactly. The windows do not open even one second early.

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I made my first purchase of these cool vintage carpet remnants that I am currently sewing together and finagling into a giant pillow.

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We always forget to take pictures of the beautiful things and usually take pictures of only the weird ones. Sorry about that!

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I guess from these pictures you can tell we are drawn to the wacky and strange.

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As evidenced with the boar head above.

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I did manage to take a picture of the coolest vintage foosball table that had immediately sold. Isn’t it amazing?

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An anchor. Yes, an anchor?! For $600. I cannot imagine where you would put this, well, unless you are super practical and bought it for your boat. But if you have a boat that needed an anchor how is your boat remaining in place?

This poses the question:

Which came first the anchor or the boat?

It was too much pondering for my wee brain at the crack of dawn. It weighed it down, so to speak.

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This has nothing to do with the picture above, but every single time I am at the flea market I see this lady selling a cool vintage cast iron garden bee. I love it. It has been there for three years.

It is overpriced.

She will not haggle.

It is extremely strange. And I do not understand how she can go to the flea market if she is too attached to her things to actually part with them.

This time she had a small garden gnome (I did not get a picture of her booth) and I asked how much he was. He was not anything special. Just a gnome.

She said, “Oh, you mean the magical rainbow leprechaun who grants wishes?”

Um, sure.

“He’s $25… $125.”

We walked away. ‘Cause no.

But now I wonder if she truly is a witch and selling magical cast iron creations. It would surely explain the prices.

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We had not gone to the flea market for anything particular. We didn’t need anything.

Which is why we bought everything.

As it goes.

The only thing we needed was a stop sign for my son’s room because he wants one every time he goes to the flea market and his birthday is coming up, so I figured it would be a good surprise for him.

And it would have worked because I found a cool weathered Stop Sign for $15 (priced at $25, but haggling is the best part). Except the sneaker saw me editing this picture and said excitedly, “So you did find a Stop Sign?”

Do not let me handle a surprise for you.

We found the cool ottoman coffee table. I love it. It is made from vintage crates and the fabric is a vintage Czech army blanket. This booth is always my favorite. The owners are constantly one step ahead of their competitors and one step ahead in terms of trends. The ottoman was a fabulous price and we are so happy with it.

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I got this. I will showcase more of it later. It is just a sneak peek. I cannot tell if it was a good purchase or not, but either way, I had to have it.

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So, we got into the flea market at 7:00 and we left the flea market at 8:50. I thought maybe I should meet some people down there, but we wanted to be quick. It was the perfect amount of time for us. We were in and out and home with the kids for lunch. We beat the heat. And most importantly, we beat the crowds.

Have you been to the flea market lately? Have you been to The Rose Bowl Flea Market (last year’s trip can be found here)? What do you look for when you go?

*The next Rose Bowl Flea Market occurs this Sunday, on August 10th.

P.S. I shared this on Savvy Southern Style.

Comic Con 2014 Part II

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Yesterday’s post covered a lot of the costumes, but there is still more to tell about Comic Con.

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There was a cool display at The Lego Booth, as usual.

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There was tons of elaborate Walking Dead stuff. They had a huge set-up that looked like Terminus.

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And a small set of lego-like Walking Dead creations.

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I bought some jewelry.

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And my daughter purchased that dress from the video game Portal (she is required to wear a tank top underneath).

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My favorite part of Comic Con is definitely, without a doubt, the free books. All of the big fantasy/science fiction publishers are there and they give away so many books for free. It is amazing. There were even more in a separate bag that we missed photographing.

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My husband surprised me with a really cool piece of art from Rhode Montijo. It is a little hanging tree sculpture with our initials on it.

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There were amazing displays.

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I caught a glimpse of Sean Astin, but did not meet him again like last year. Closure and all of that.

More costumes by cool people. I love how happy that older dude is in his Ghostbuster costume. It made me smile:

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This fox costume was started by its wearer way back in October. The back of her ear is covered in flowers. It was really cool.

Her friend spoke for her when I asked her questions.

I could not help but quip to them, “So, the fox says nothing?”

Crickets.

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This woman found this man sitting and conducted an interview with him. I believe it was about what he thought could change on their ship. It was a very long interview. They both were excited about it.

I love that like-minded people can find other like-minded people at Comic Con and relate on a level that they would not generally get to in our close-minded society.

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I got to try the new Monster Hunter game coming out next year. I cannot wait! By the way, this photo is edited. My giant pimple needed to be toned down. If only I could do that in real life.

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My son loved the Minecraft display.

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If you went to Comic Con, would you dress up? What would you go to see? To do?

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By the way, I think this picture says more than anything I could compose in words about Comic Con.

And, yes, that is totally the face I would make if I saw a shark flying through the air.

I’m a Monster Hunter, remember? Sharks are nothin’.