highlights:
- The safe arrival of Mariah Cotto is an event all in itself. She is my BFF and to have her around guarantees a wonderful time through and through. My sisters are a triumph, the ones that life game me as well as the one God made me cross paths with. As soon as we made sure there was no post traumatic flight syndrome, it was on with the agenda....
- Howl-O-Scream 2009 brought along the presence of the divine Ms. Michelle who was happy to bring her crazy peep antics and whom I just noticed, managed to dodge pics of herself... hmmmphhhfff. Although the idea of House of Vayne and vampire fashion smashion was brilliant, I found the Scarezones were not effective, in fact the werewolf scarezone which appears in the promos was nowhere to be found.... I guess the scariest thing of all is the recession we are still trying to conquer. We had fun though, laughing more than we should have. Suggestion to the organizers, for next time around...The idea of a vampire Clubhouse with a $10.00 cover fee and drinks bought on the side was not too appealing. In the words of Mariah, for an extra cover fee with no fringe benefits, they better turn us!!!! And besides, since one of the vampires in Taste of Blood dared say "You are Mahhhhnnn, now", I just didn't want to be disappointed at a Fangtasia ensemble in the Marrakesh Theater... which brings me to
- TRUE BLOOD Marathon... yes, getting anyone hooked on True Blood, even if they are secretly team Sam is worth it!!!! One thing of notice that sent a shiver... at an unconscious level I have more in common with vampire BEEEEELL than I had noticed before, like I've been channeling red bangs... note to self... self, change the style as soon as you can. LOL
- The only thing worthy of separating us from an unfinished TRUE BLOOD Marathon was of course U2 360. I can dedicate word after word to the funny parts that will bring about a quasi-panic attack and vertigo for the sheer height of our assigned seats... ( not only I started a U2 savings account as of yesterday, but I swore not to procrastinate when it comes to buying tickets). To the wild goose chase that was running around the four glorious corners of the Raymond James Stadium looking for the frigging car (yes, little aliens, you have won the battle of wits, you and your dizzy spell ray). The thing is all that could go wrong was nothing compared to the religious experience and all that the Gospel of Bono entails. And before someone says it is all one of my infamous hyperboles... it is religious as in the Latin RELIGARE... to reconnect with something thought to be hopelessly lost. I left that concert with a sense of community (you could actually count the countries about by listening to people around you, in fact as we ran through the concourse I captured a mental pic of a father and son wearing the same concert shirt ans said to my self, coolest way to bridge the generational gap EVER, and more than once I felt it was cool to live in the USA and believe me, as things are, sometimes people just need to remind me). Of course in every religious experience one waits for that moment of revelation and for me it was Sunday Bloody Sunday. I've always loved this song, in fact I fell in love with U2 because of it. Back in the 90's when the peace talks began and the cease fire looked feasible, I thought, well, the song is Rock n' Roll history now. Unfortunately, ever since at least one country has taken the turn to adopt that tune as their own and human nature turned the question " How long must we sing this song?" into a rhetorical one. It just broke me down and schooled me in so many ways that of course I cried, like I unashamedly cry in the presence of genius and in the presence of God. There you have it without a bit of heresy. Note: if you haven't seen Paul Greengrass' documentary style film about what started it all... rent it. Now. Going back to my mini vac train of thought there are religious experiences and then there are just plain nut, you have to be there 'cause I just don't feel like recounting...
- Yes, we went to a theatrical presentation of the ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, and there is a reason why there is no photographic evidence. I'll leave you with this http://www.cheaplittlepunks.org/index.php If you think your mind is dirty and you have extracted every single double entendre out of Tim Curry and Co. you are fucking wrong.... wrong, wrong, wrong I tell you!!!!!! The phrase "elbow sex" will haunt me for ever.
- Big Cat Rescue was a little Tampa Treasure that I wouldn't have discovered if it wasn't for Ms. Lightshadow's obsession with the feline, and I'm grateful for it. Besides the beautiful wild things, I learned that J-lo and Beyonce are in fact monsters of legend. Well, I shouldn't say I learned, just corroborated.
- The Dali Museum allowed us to drag the Great Ken Ken along, who was not feeling as artsy as she was feeling silly, but unfortunately, that is one of those places you need to visit to grasp, Larger than life and sublime and of course, surreal. Sorry Lysania, you just can't eat your way out of this one... and it is worth the price, even if there are no fritters involved. LOL
- Opa! Tarpon Springs came courtesy of Dad, just because I didn't want the little aliens to get me lost in a place where the streets are hard to pronounce. I was a little ticked off because we got there late, after we had already eaten Greek food , when most of the shops were closed, after the last boat tour had departed and specially when the handsome, olive skinned Greek guys had gone to do whatever Greek guys do on Sunday night and left their grandpas behind :(... LOL
In all, it was fun fun fun, thanks to all who lend a hand and Ms. Lightshadow, I haven't been able to sleep thinking I owe you the easiest thing there was to get.... a SONIC shake!!!!
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