Family Roadtrip

Or should I say a semi-living hell?

Okay okay, I'll ease up. It's not really that bad. But it is. I know how dumb this sounds, but my family had to DRIVE down to Phoenix Arizona to spend two days at my grandparents house and then pack up their car and ours to drive back with them. No, I'm not kidding.

My grandparents have a lot of money. Mainly from years of not spending any money at all if necessary, but whatever. So they own a house in Arizona and a house in Wisconsin, and they spend the winter in Arizona and the summer in Wisconsin. That's all fine and dandy, but in the last couple years we've realized that they're too old to make that drive on their own. Not that they can't drive or anything, because they can and all that, but the problem is that they're old and we're afraid one of them will have a stroke or something and the other can't really do anything, or some young dumb criminal would knock them over at a rest stop and steal their money. So now we have to drive them. This is the result:

Monday: Dad gets us up at 5 am. How horrific is that? God. I was up on Jonas Secrets til like 2 am too... Anyway, we get in the car and take off. Callie and I manage to fall asleep again in the car until about 10. After that, there's really nothing to do, so I begin to read Twilight out loud to my family. Yep, we do stuff like that. And it rocks. We finally stop in Albuquerque over night at a La Quinta (pretty nice, definitely worth the $70).

Tuesday: Up and out the door by 9. Grossness again. I continue to read Twilight. My whole family is hooked, and it's certainly not my oral skills. It's just amazing. Everyone should go read it. Like now. Callie even starts reading it on her own, which hasn't happened since the Harry Potter series. We finally get to Sedona, Arizona, which is the prettiest place in the whole freaking world. Go there, ASAP. It's awesome. We shop around for awhile and I get some killer shades. *Pictures will come later* Also, I discovered the hotel provided a computer with Internet access so I facebooked for awhile. Yay me.

Wednesday: This is the day that I start my downhill slide into near death. Callie and I got up early and decided to go to the pool. We got out there at seriously 8:30 in the morning. Mom and Dad stopped into to see us and mom asked if I put on sunscreen. Well, I hadn't, but it was like 8:30 in the morning so I wasn't too worried. <--- This was a dumb ass assumption. Callie and I ended up laying out reading and texting by the pool until 10:30 or so. After returning to the hotel room, Mom said I looked red. Okay, whatever. So I put on a t-shirt instead of a tank top to cover my shoulders and back. No big deal. We went to see the Chapel on the hill, which is totally cute. Then mom gets the bright idea to make the whole family take a hike. Fine, whatever. We do it. I feel hella sick. Then we drive from Sedona down to Phoenix. Naturally, about an hour after we arrive my mom diagnoses me with sun poisoning. Balls, that sucks. She buys some Aloe Vera and slathers me up. I feel better, but not my much. Just as everyone's ready to go to bed, all that food that's sat in my stomach all damn day (not digesting as it should have) decides to make an appearance. So for the rest of the night I'm barfing my guts out because my body 's dehydrated, and the only way for it to let me know was to make me hurl for 10 hours. Yeah, I got, body. I'm sick... but of course I couldn't keep anything down, so I couldn't actually eat anything. My mom was pretty close to taking me to the ER, which would have sucked.

Thursday: I'm too weak to do just about anything. I'm so pale that my sunburn looks non-existent, and I can't do my favorite thing: Eat. Dang it. We go to the store and I get chicken broth to live off. Then I stay out of the sun for the rest of the day.

Friday: Today. Ugh. I feel a little better. I can eat food now. Yay. I still have a headache, from being dehydrated. Gross. I'm looking forward to being home.

I'll update when I can. :)

IDK... My BFF Jill?

I'm textually active. I text constantly. I love it! However, there are some things about texting that makes me want to find whoever programs the T9 system and stab them... These are those things:

T9 knows some distrubing words, and yet, it skips over some simple ones.

Weird words in T9's vocabulary:
Pedophile <-- do not ask why I know this. vernacular Words that should be in T9 but aren't:
Taco <-- Not kidding, it comes out to Tabo. Idiots.
Tambourine
Any swear word. I realize that it's not appropriate, but still.
Crap
Yay
Panda <-- If you know anything about me you know that I say panda A LOT...

And then T9 does that thing where it puts in the 'most used' word first. This leads to intersting things too... such as:
Anna. It spells Bomb first.
Jordan = Korean
Smirnoff = Poisoned <--- I find this hilarious
Cats = Acts <-- This confuses a lot of people since I just assume cat should come first
Movies = Mother
Mom = non <-- this isn't even a word. Jeez
Home = Good. I can see this one, but still.

I realize that this is very random. But it's been bothering me for awhile now.

Here's your daily dose of Jonas. Actually, it'll be a dose of Kevin Jonas. This photo shoot rocks.

The Bridges, Locksley and Rooney

Bitch Tits! I had like 3 pages typed out and my computer blinked out. Dang it.

So anyway, I'm off to re-type my once amazing story. Laura, Megan and I decided to trek to Omaha to see Rooney at the Sokol Underground.

Omaha is about 3.5 hours from Manhattan. We rolled into town about 4 and met up with Hannah at the BK Lounge. After parking a block away, we strolled down past Sokol. The bands were all moving in their equiptment. We were planning on stopping, but we were the only ones there and I was telling the stories of my sordid past with law enforcement, so we strolled on past and walked down about a block more before we realized where we were.

Here's the story about where Sokol is located... It's esentially the 'rapesville' of Omaha. Scary scary shit. About a block and a half from Sokol, we stumbled upon a tow truck service that resembled the auto shop from House of Wax entirely too much, so we booked back to Sokol. We agreed that sitting on the ground and having the backs of our legs looking like cottage cheese in front of the tasty bands was better than being raped and killed and turned into wax.

Okay, back on topic...
So we're sitting outside Sokol. On 13th street, which is apparently a very popular street for every unemployed, drunk, possible pedophiles to cruise down on a beautiful Thursday afternoon. Creepers! Ugh. I don't know if people thought we were weird or what, but people in the cars couldn't help but stare at us as they drove past. We even checked to make sure everyone was decent (no one forgot underwear and a skirt or anything... LiLoh we are NOT), which we were, so we didn't get it, but whatever. Eventually, Robert Schwartzman, front for Rooney came out and talked to us... It went something like this
Robert: Groupies!
Us: *stunned silence for a second* Robert!
For most of the time he was talking we were just shocked that he was even talking to us. It rocked. He was telling us about how much he hated eating at MickeyDee's and the BKLounge, so on and so forth and that he was going to Wal*Mart (check out Rooney's blog post for how that went down) He even took the picture that Hannah brought him (of Katie, Hannah, Robert and Taylor).

So eventually they let us in. Laura and I naturally had left to go back to the car, so we had to wait in the long-ass line. Dang. But Megan and Hannah saved us a spot... Right in the front. It was amazing. We were going to be RIGHT THERE if anything happened. We took some exciting shots waiting for the Bridges to start up...

Hannah and I trying to take a picture while saving two extra spots for Megan and Laura

First up was The Bridges. http://www.myspace.com/thebridgesmusic They were amazing. No ear buds and on key. If you aren't impressed you aren't paying attention. They all had amazing fashion and rocked several instruments. Brittany, lead singer has the most amazing bangs ever. Don't laugh, once you see 'em you'll want 'em too.Brittany. You want her bangs. Admit it. And you haven't even heard her sing.

Amazing. Go listen to Pieces. It's going to be their first single and I can't freaking wait to buy their album.

Okay, while The Bridges are performing, I can't help but look around. First I see Mr. Grumpy Gills, some guy in a Locksley t-shirt (Who the hell's Locksley, you ask? Just wait) who stood with his arms crossed and a sour expression the whole time. I think he's hilarious, so every time he gets close to me I call him Mr. Grumpy Gills. :D Then I notice a TASTY boy in light blue singing along to all the Bridges songs. He's adorable. I hoped he was going to be near me (I was wrong).

Once the Bridges are done, Mr. Grumpy Gills runs around setting up for the second band, called Locksley. Suddenly, a guy in a black shirt with white polka dots and white skinnies darts out from the back to bring out something to do with his guitar. Hannah and I had commented on the white pants earlier (I have a pair, Hannah wants a pair), and the fact that he was really cute. As he's plugging his stuff in, he happens to look up. So we're staring at each other, which is awkward enough, since I was clearly ogling his tastiness. Lucky for me, I don't think he noticed.
Cute boy: Hi! I'm Jesse. I guess we're going to be best friends for the next 45 minutes!
Me: *nervous laugh* Yeah I guess so.
Cute boy named Jesse: See you in a minute!

He sprints off. I force myself to breathe. Wow. I didn't have to wait long. As promised he, with the others come out a few minutes later, introducing themselves as Locksley. http://www.myspace.com/locksley They start playing and I realize that they sound like the young Beatles. Uh-MAZING. Seriously. I already accidently fell in love with Jesse and would have listened to feedback from a guitar as long as he was standing in front of me, but to think that he was cute, seemed nice and played good music? Holy cats. Sensory overload.You know you think he's cute.

So I'm doing what I do at shows: bounce around and clap. That's all I can really do. I'd never heard Locksley, so I didn't know the songs or anything, but it was all happy music, so I liked it. Jesse looked at a lot of us in the front row and it was pretty cool.

But then... Jesse did something that I will NEVER FORGIVE HIM FOR: He made me come up on stage.
Jesse the cruel cute boy: What's your name?
Me: oh crap Mandi
Jesse the cruel cute boy: Beesley?
Me: oh crap Close, but it's Mandi
Jesse the cruel cute boy: Mandi! Well I've been watching you all night (I faint inside a little) and you have been clapping along all night. Could you do me a favor and come one stage to help us out.
Me: NO! *smiles weakly* sure.
In a perfect world, this would be the part of the story where someone stops me or Jesse realizes that I was never meant to be on a stage, EVER. Sadly, as this is reality and not perfect, I have to get my terrified ass up there. Jesse hands me a tambourine and they start playing. I stayed on rhythm, thank GOD, but I was so scared! Hannah (that dirty wench) got a video of it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vm9EmovRHwY <--There it is if you'd like to enjoy my pain. The upside, if there was one, was that Jesse either sensed my terror, or he could clearly see the color drain from my face, so he came over a couple times and put his arm around me. Obviously, I immediately forgave him for whatever it was I was mad at him for... FINALLY, he let me go and I could go back down and cower in the front row, promising me a free CD and poster. The rest of their set was as fantastic as the first part. Jesse even gave me his pick which says "Jesse <3's style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRfZUE6RMQndPuSMlYLZw5VnsRODutTehQko8USs_nVMsc6zkrXeB0zMdRbLvneur150In2mzu8J6kucotGrY77ySX6diuFUfinFbaYFluVPEMLwC-Enf-cAiZpKXFdrAFhEGcOOvYzBE/s320/IMG_6382.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196801940319724498" border="0">We kick off to a good start with Don't Come Around Again, which I knew. Robert seemed to like that most of us in the front (at least my girls and I) knew the words. During I Should've Been After You, Laura and I began pointing at Robert when we sang "I should've been after you." He thought that was pretty funny and grabbed our hands for a moment. Fantastic. http://www.myspace.com/rooney

By this time, it's approximately 148.98 degrees in Sokol. I notice that there are two water bottles sitting on a speaker behind Robert. Robert tosses water on the front row and I question my sanity in wearing a white shirt. Me and some others start to joke about me crawling on stage, not to freak out and touch Robert inappropriately (I would probably at least seriously consider it) but to simply get to that water. Robert either hears us (doubtful) or sees us eyeing the water, so he hands it to me. I pass it around and I think it traveled back a few rows. Yay us getting what we wanted.

In one song Robert just went around grabbing people's hands. He got Laura and my hand, and then moved back, but didn't let go. Immediately my fear of being dragged back on stage kicked in and I got my hand back.

When it was done, Robert announced that they would do meet and greets afterwards. We're excited. We were in line being patient, when all of a sudden the party pooper police show up in the form of Rooney's manager. Let me just put it out there that he's a dick. Seriously. He lectures me about using the flash, of which I see his point and apologize for, but it's not like I wasn't the only one, even though I was clearly the target of his rage. I don't react well to people like that. Instead of telling him to kiss my ass, I just looked at the ceiling reminding myself that I wanted to get my new awesome Rooney bag signed. Then he turned on Hannah about recording the show. Whatever. Someone needs to put a "Kick me" sign on him. Ass. He tells us to only ask the band to sign one thing and NO PICTURES. Fine. Jeez.

Regardless, we finally get up to the band. They're pretty cool. Matt and Megan strike up conversation about being tall.
Matt: You're tall. That's awesome.
Megan *shaky* Thanks
Matt: How tall are you?
Megan: 6 foot 1.
Matt: I'm taller than you! I'm 6 foot 2. Tall is awesome
Megan: High five!
I was so proud.

I'm telling everyone how fun the show was. I really wanted a crazy reaction out of Taylor. He's always so quiet. No such luck. Robert did talk to me though, he told me about how he really appreciated us being all energetic and excited for the show and that he wished there were fans like us at every show they did. I considered throwing out the idea that they could take us with them... Then decided their ass-clown manager didn't really need another reason to hate me, so I kept my trap shut.

We wandered away for a few minutes, and when we came back out, the band had started taking pictures. Ass-clown manager was pissed. He stalked off and we high-fived then gathered round to take pictures. It was awesome.
Robert: Tall people in the back! That's you! (to Megan) Short people in the front. I'm short. What's up? (to me and Hannah)
Our picture's pretty awesome
Fantastic. Eventually the band broke off to talk to everyone else and I managed to get a shot with just me and Robert.
Oh yeah. As Robert was introducing Laura to Brittney from the Bridges, I noticed Jesse lurking around in the back. I all but fell over myself to get to him. He remembered my name. I was shocked. He signed my poster and apologized for making me go up on stage. He seemed really sincere. I managed to restrain myself from telling him that I wanted to be on him (Anchorman, anyone?). We chatted for a few minutes, waiting for Hannah and Laura to catch up. He told me that I was the best tambourine player that they'd ever had up there, despite the fact that I was scared shatless. I wonder if he was lying. Hannah wanted him to sign her shoes, so as she was using my leg as a prop Jesse let me play with his hair. It was fantastic. I refrained (barely) from turning into Bella and just jumping on him. (READ TWILIGHT and you'd understand)

You'd think our night was just ending, but we had that fabulous drive home to look forward to. We said our goodbyes to the boys, all of them telling us to be safe. Laura was pooped. I drove.

To make a long ass story pretty short, we ended up in Kearney. The red to the right is what we should have done... And that black line, that's what we did. We turned around in Kearney at 3:30 am...So that sucked. We rolled into Manhattan at 7:30. Basically, within 24 hours, we spent roughly 11 hours in that car. Gross.

But we survived. It was a blast.