through sunshine and rain…baby, we keep on smilin’

The announcement that the New Kids were going to have the honor of playing Fenway Park came in late January. I’m not going to mince words or dance around the truth: had I not been $800 into my cruise payments (or, even so, had I had the option of finding a roommate replacement without jeopardizing the reservation for both of my girls), I probably would have had to think long and hard about cancelling my spot on the cruise just to be at Fenway. Why? Simply because, as excited as I was about the cruise, I felt fairly sure that there will be (at least) one more to come in the future. Fenway, however…not so much. Of the seventeen concerts that have taken place at Fenway Park since the first in 2003, only one artist (Dave Matthews Band) has been honored to play it twice. NKOTBSB? Perhaps, but that’s quite a gamble.

Since not going on the cruise wasn’t an option unless I wanted to lose my $800 and/or cancel the room altogether, thus screwing over both of my roommates, I had to somehow just figure out a way to do both. (Awww, poor me. Poor my checking account, yes, but I’ll get over it.) I managed to find a girl who was selling a pair of field seats at face value. Without even making official plans, I bought them and was able to relax a little – at least that was the seemingly hardest part, already taken care of. As luck would have it, my traveling BH in crime, Dafna, happened to have a chance to head to Boston and NYC for work around the same time, so she was going to try to swing it that she could get a flight earlier than originally planned to see the show with me. Eventually, that plan was not only set in motion, but she managed to work her famous hotel room rate magic, securing us a great room in the heart of Boston for $100/night. (I guess it never hurts to low-ball in a bidding situation. You can always go higher, if necessary, but maybe they’ll give you what you ask for. Seems to work for her, that plan. Anyway…)

The flight, however, was going to be harder to manage. I wasn’t sure how in the world I was going to swing it. I can finally admit that my editors at Spinning Platters, the Bay Area Music blog I’ve been writing for, were trying to get an interview for me with one of the guys, and my fear was that they’d somehow pull it off and I would have decided I couldn’t afford to go. In the end, between saving nearly every penny I had, not going all out splurging in Miami/on the cruise, and the helpful boost of (if you can believe it!) some birthday money, and I had a roundtrip ticket to Boston. I even managed to get a pretty good deal: $309. Sold! I’d basically wanted to visit the city since I was a kid, both because the New Kids are from there, but also because over the years I’d heard so many amazing things about it in general. (Update on the interview possibility: because the tour is so huge, they weren’t really interested in being written up by blogs but by large-scale newspapers & magazines, so they passed. They think, though, that there’s a good chance they can get me an interview either post-tour or at the beginning of the next one. I’ll keep you posted, of course.)

If you want the specifics of my trip itself, start here. Otherwise, let’s talk about the Fenway show…Dafna and I had unsuccessfully managed to meet up with Pearl, the girl who had sold me our tickets, all day. She got in early Saturday, but we had plans to take a Duck Tour, and to further complicate matters, Ground Control had shipped her tickets, but they were never delivered. We couldn’t do much until she found a way to have them reprinted at the box office and then met up with us. We thought the box office opened at 10, but when she went over to the park to check things out and hopefully come away with tickets hours before the show, she texted me to say, unfortunately, they weren’t open yet. So plans changed again. We eventually went to the Fenway area ourselves, bought our Red Sox ponchos at a nearby CVS, and waited outside one of the gates for her, texting her our whereabouts.

Time kept ticking away, I kept texting. Then I called her. Her phone rang, but it went straight to voice mail. We knew doors were opening early (at 5:00pm!) and that the show was starting earlier than ever, too – 6:30. 5:00 came and went, though, and I was still standing outside the park with Dafna, blowing up Pearl’s phone and trying not to freak out. We walked from gate to gate, tried to get a signal to tweet, and watched as the NKOTB Fenway t-shirts sold out right before our very eyes (we couldn’t buy them without getting in. Related: if you or anyone you has Fenway Ts to sell, in any size, please email me. Thanks).

Eventually, Daf went up to the box office and found out the information from them on the seats that were still available for sale. There were plenty of good ones…field seats for $135. We knew that we might have to break down and just buy them, but I was beginning to feel certain that something had happened to Pearl. We’d been talking/tweeting for months, and I just never got the impression from her that she was the kind to screw me over. Furthermore, we eventually went to will call and explained the situation to them. They searched extensively and were able to tell us that she hadn’t picked up or printed her tickets. In short, she just wasn’t there. We stood around on the street a little more as we heard the crowd screaming for what we later discovered was Jordin Sparks (we wondered why there had been no opening act).

Somehow, I got a tweet to go through: a plea to my BH sistas, at Fenway or otherwise, to RT the crap out of me: the girl who’d sold me my tickets had failed to materialize and, while I was afraid something had happened to her, I still needed to somehow get my butt in a seat and not miss the once-in-a-lifetime show. My “twin,” Michelle (we’re not related, but she’s one of my fave BH sistas, a UK BH with whom I share my birthday, down to the year) didn’t disappoint. Within a matter of minutes, my desperate plea for tickets seemed to go viral. It literally took me hours to convince everyone that I no longer needed saving. (Thanks, Chelle. I am forever indebted to you for having my back. This goes to each and every one of you who RT’d my tweet. #bhlove)

Helpless, and yet not quite desperate enough to rationalize buying tickets again, we waited. I texted, I called, I tried to keep both of us from panic. And then, as though nothing had happened, my phone started flooding with text responses from Pearl. It turned out that she’d tried to take the T with her friends, and it was so crazy on the Green Line that she’d been stuck underground for over an hour. I could see her own panic (at nearly missing part of the show, as well as stressing us out) on her face, and when she finally got tickets in her hands from will call, I noticed her hands were shaking. I think she was afraid we’d be mad at her, but we were so damn happy to see her, we could’ve kissed her. I’ve never been so relieved in my entire life to have a ticket in my hand. Then I had to try to get the word out to the BH Twitterverse that I was in, and grateful.

We got in, made an entire lap around the park in search of the now sold-out Fenway Ts, and eventually gave up, somewhat deflated but also elated to be inside.

As it turned out, our seats were also pretty good. We weren’t in the first section of the shaft (there was a section of seats between us and that part of the stage), but we could see most of the stage with both our eyes and our cameras. We were both thrilled. Even better, the show hadn’t started yet, and the weather was still miraculously holding up. By the time Mark was onstage announcing the guys (a surprise to which I was tipped off by readers of this very blog, if you can believe it), we were already nearly giddy:

The Green Monster was decked out for the occasion, and as it was the first time I’d laid eyes on it in person, I stood there for a minute, just staring, memorizing every detail for future reference:

And then it was time for the show to start

They announced that night’s “starting lineup,” calling each guy out to the stage from (I think) behind home plate. We couldn’t see where they came from, but I knew it was somewhere in that general direction.



They took to the stage and the show took off:

At this point, I’m just gonna plan to bombard you with the good pics I have, because really, does anyone not wanna see them? Some are sort of blurry, but I’ve included the best ones, and frankly I don’t care if they’re not stellar because I was there and I remember, and I hope those of you that couldn’t be there will enjoy them anyway. And for the BSB fans, I apologize, I didn’t take many pics of them except for trying to get a decent shot of Nick here & there for Chelle, as well as my friend Laura who couldn’t be there (to whom I promised, many, many years ago, that we’d see Boston together, or not at all…*sigh*), who are both Joe/Nick girls…






As you’ve probably noticed, all of these so far are of the first outfits. There are several reasons for this, the first being that because the show started so early, it was still light out when they took the stage, so it was easy to get great shots. The second, which isn’t yet obvious, is because it became much more difficult to take any – much less good – pics once the heavens opened up on us. But I digress. Here’s a few more before the downpour…




(Is anyone else dying to know what Joe’s laughing at? I love the look on his face here.)
And then, of course…the flirtation begins…their clothes stayed on a bit longer, but the teasing didn’t take long to start:

(And you can see what I mean about blurry. But, so?)

At this point, I have a confession to make. I’m going to do my best to say this diplomatically and respectfully, because that’s how I mean it and how I’d like it said from the other side, if one of them felt this way: I don’t care much for the Backstreet Boys. I don’t have anything at all against them, and I even was briefly a fan in the late 90s, but I simply outgrew them. I think that Nick’s gotten hot as he’s grown up, and I’ve always thought Brian was adorable, and their harmony can be really nice (especially before they lost the richness with Kevin’s voice), but that’s it. But listen, I tried. I really did give them another chance, after all these years, when they announced this tour. Last year when they came out at RCMH, Daf and I had the same (immediate) reaction: we sat down. It wasn’t negative, we just didn’t have a big emotional reaction or interest in this pairing of two “supergroups” (as I keep hearing it touted). But when the tour was announced, I got to work and downloaded every album I didn’t have. I gave it a shot. And while I can still smile when I hear Nick’s “yeah-ah-ah” or “Quit Playin’ Games” as a whole, or something else that reminds me of a very specific moment or a time in my life, I just don’t feel any emotional connection to them or their music.

Now that I’ve said that, here’s the confession (no, that wasn’t really it): I reacted at Fenway the same way I did at Radio City: when the BSB came out (without the NK, I mean), I sat down. But after doing so for the first two or three times, I started to feel bad. Not for the guys themselves, but for the BSB fans. I really doubt they care, but I do: I don’t want to present myself (or any of us) as negative, mean, unwilling, or unsupportive. I decided, hey, it’s one night – stop being a grumpy bitch and try to enjoy it. All of it. And so I did. I gave it the old “college try,” and did my best to get into the BSB parts of the show too, and you know what? For me obviously not being a fan, it was a pretty good time. I’m not gonna bash them, because they put on a good show and if they can make me enjoy myself, well…I’m impressed. (Then again, I just admitted I consciously decided to be as open-minded as I could, but whatever.)

Now that that’s off my chest, let’s get on with the show! Here are some more pics for you:






(Looks like it’s right at her, doesn’t it? It couldn’t possibly have been, because we were too far back to see, but it’s always fun to get a shot or two like this anyway!)
Then the clothes really did start coming off, little by little…


(Not the best, Chelle & L, but one of several I took just for you two!)
And then fully dressed again for “Please Don’t Go, Girl”

The weather had held up nicely for about the first hour, but as it finally threatened to rain, the BSBs came out in (almost) all white. I thought they were very brave, but I didn’t see anyone having his own wet t-shirt contest, so either I purposely didn’t notice, or they somehow managed to avoid it. Here’s another one I took for Chelle, Laura & the rest of you Nick lovers:

And then, finally, the NKs were in those sort of military-looking MJ-inspired outfits that Dafna didn’t seem to care for but that I love:


And then it was really starting to rain. Donnie had already told the crowd that earthquakes, monsoons, hurricanes, or tornadoes weren’t going to keep them off the stage. Believe me, the crowd felt the same way. I’m not saying this because I love rain, I’m saying it because it’s true: had it not poured on us that night the way it did, I’m certain the memory wouldn’t be quite as epic as it is. Sure, it would’ve been (as I’ve already said) a once-in-a-lifetime concert experience with someone you’ve loved your whole life from a dream venue in their hometown. But would it have been an all-out party, soaked to the bone in the pouring rain? I really don’t think so. Their attitudes were amazing, and we made similar chioces: rather than being bummed or even bothered by it, we chose to celebrate and splash around in it like little kids. They turned the “penis stage” into a giant slip and slide. Thankfully, mercifully, no matter how much they dove and slid around, no one ever seemed to injure himself. Half the fun really was watching how much they and all of us seemed to enjoy every second.

And then the clothes really started to come off. You’d think we were both Donnie girls,

because somehow even Jordan-loving Dafna seemed to get mostly him…





(ILOVETHISPIC.)



(I kinda need to know what’s happening here between Mr. Knight & Joe, behind Donnie. Anyone else curious?)

(How ’bout now? Wonder what he’s thinking, don’tcha?)

In the downpour, I realized that while I was risking my camera (and my iPhone when my camera battery died & I realized my back-up was in the hotel room), I could actually see the rain in some of my pics, and took a few extras just to try to capture it:


And then…then I turned back to the stage in time to take the two best shots of the night…or should I say, Knight.

(Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, for this picture.)

Daringly, eventually there was another all-white outfit for “I’ll Be Loving You (Forever).” Somehow, I took a decent group shot:


It wasn’t my intention to take a booty shot of JK, I was just working with what he was giving me. And then I had to stop. This is not only my favorite NK song, it’s tied for my favorite song of all time and I put my camera in my pocket to allow myself to be swept up in the beauty of that moment. Many of us know that Jordan, for one reason or another, doesn’t verbally communicate how he feels much. Maybe it’s that he can’t, or doesn’t have the right words at the right time, or that he doesn’t feel comfortable. Whatever it is, I think we all know by now that where he can communicate his emotions is onstage. For me, this song in particular has always been a really amazing thing to behold live, because he seems (to me) to dedicate it to us, and it makes me more emotional every time I see it. I’ll never ever hear it again without being taken back to that moment, because…I’m not a big cryer. But I couldn’t help myself. Jordan has never sounded more beautiful to me, especially on that song, than he did at Fenway Park. I was literally immobilized, swept up in the emotion, with tears streaming down my face. (Rumor has it a few girls think they saw JK crying, too, which is sweet to believe.) I’ll never forget that moment, and I’m grateful for it.

Before long, we knew the show was almost over. I could’ve stayed there all night, listening to anyone sing to me, enjoying the rain and the joy that showered me from head to toe. The encore took place from the Green Monster, and Dafna took a pretty good drenched shot of Jordan from up there:

(Or maybe I did, with her camera? I forget.) And then the Backstreets came out, too:

And then it was over. I’m almost always left wanting more, but for the first time I can remember, I was completely sated. I literally could have died of happiness that night, having explored Boston and seen the New Kids grace a stage at Fenway. We asked someone to take a pic of us, two very happy drowned rats:

And then after one last amazing, rainy shot of the NKOTBSB Monstah:

we regrettably left the park without being able to connect with any of our BH friends, off in search of warm, dry clothes and New England clam chowder.

I can’t say much more about this show than I already have. If I go broke, I’ll still be sure I made the right choice. Some things are just not worth a single regret, ever, and this is one of them. It was literally unforgettable, and a night I’ll cherish until the day I die. It’s just that simple.

Edited: June 22nd, 2011

i’m livin’ swell, and now you wanna be down?!

step off!!

I have to preface this post by saying that I learned at a young age to try to be positive as often as possible. (Thanks, Wahlberg!) Somewhere in my mid-20s, I really did start practicing that, rather than just preaching it. (Turns out, he’s right…positivity is about being smart!) It’s easy to give into negative urges, and to many, it’s even fun. But…I think it’s a lot harder and more fulfilling to go against the grain and suppress that. To be genuinely positive is more of a challenge and therefore more rewarding. Others get more from their relationships with you, which feeds you as well. Simply put, I strive to be the best me I can 90% (or more) of the time.

This post, however, will not be one of those times. I really need/want to get this off my chest, and yes…it involves some negativity. It’s not immature/jealous/”I-suck-at-sharing” negativity, exactly. You’ll see. Or maybe you won’t. Maybe you shouldn’t read it. I leave the choice to you, hence this whole disclaimer in the first place. I think that getting this off my chest will allow me to move forward from it and be open-minded to the source of it all. Rather than letting it fester, I’m putting it out there, in hopes of working through it. If you’d rather keep the negativity away, I understand & respect that. Turn away now. Otherwise, read on, but you’ve been warned! Please don’t consider me a hater of any kind…that couldn’t be further from the truth…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have a problem with the NKOTB reunion. (Can you imagine? A Blockhead of nearly 25 years has a complaint about getting what she wished for all these years?! Sadly, yes.) My complaint isn’t something that really has anything to do with the guys themselves, or even the actual reunion. And, to be fair, I guess it was to be expected. My problem is…well, I call them “back in the day” fans. In a way, they’re the best possible outcome. But I’m not gonna lie: they get under my skin. I debated with myself for months about whether I’d ever actually post bitching about them. The final straw that made me decide to was the NKOTBSB performance last night on the AMA. It was awesome. A truly exciting moment for us BHs…and apparently, everyone else. Great! Or not.

It should be no surprise that a NKOTB reunion would bring fans out of the woodwork, and I don’t just mean those diehards of us who never left in the first place. I mean, of course, those girls who get excited, buy tickets, come to the shows wearing their old tees and buttons and the like, and claiming “I still love the New Kids on the Block!!!” Wait, you do? Because I take issue with the word “still”. The fact of the matter is that the more people who do get excited, buy tickets, and come out to support the NK, the better for us, right? That’s obvious, and I wish nothing but so much success to the guys – you know I believe they deserve all of it and more.

But to these fans I ask, “where were you?” When Face the Music came out? (You’ve never heard of it? Oh, I see.) When VH1 created the first Where Are They Now (using my merch!)? When we all nearly died seeing Donnie in Ransom and The Sixth Sense, and not because we just happened to recognize him, but because we flocked to the theaters to see them because he was in them. For that matter, when Southie came out? Or The Taking of Pelham 123 on TV? (The list of movies/TV shows, obviously, goes on & on.) When Joe toured for Stay the Same and Meet Joe Mac? When Jordan opened for *NSync? When Danny went solo? When Joe was on Broadway? When we were getting up at the crack of dawn (or some of us even sleeping on the streets for days) two years ago for Today, knowing it was likely to be one of the happiest days of our lives? Even when The Block came out, while we were all at record stores or staring at iTunes in tears, where were you?

Make no mistake, there’s room for everybody. Each and every single fan, whether you’re a brand newbie from last night, or you’ve never missed a day since the beginning, is welcome and valued, in my book. For the most part, I believe that BHs are a rare breed: I’ve been around groups of fans for many different kinds of celebrities, and unfortunately I always kind of felt like there was an unspoken competitiveness between them. In fact, I took it for granted that it must exist between fans of just about anyone. And then…the reunion. There’s something really beautiful about the relationship that exists, as a whole, between Blockheads. True, as I’ve written about before, it’s even more breathtaking when you take into account that the guys are a part of that relationship. But leaving them out of it, this is a unique group of fans. I really believe BHs are one of a kind. More often than not, we have this attitude of “the more the merrier!” and bond quickly. We don’t tend to exclude anyone, and though we’re typically both human and female, we still treat each other as sisters more than any other one thing. Being a fan as a kid, and in what I refer to as the “New Kids wilderness” (1995-2007, even though we had stuff going on a little at a time all those years), was amazing. But it’s nothing like what it is today. With Twitter and our newfound sisterhood, we’ve taken fandom to a whole new level. I think every artist/group/celebrity believes s/he/they have the best fans “on the planet.” I think the NK actually do because of our “bhpride.” We really do represent and do them proud, and part of the reason we do is because we have something in common. Something important.

The one thing we share is battle scars. That’s why Joe calls the fans “bravehearts.” What this means is that we’ve been so unwaveringly supportive, we’ve all withstood years’ worth of torment. It’s never stopped us, but we’ve had to not only defend the guys over the years, but ourselves for liking them. For many, many years it was uncool to like the New Kids on the Block. This has a lot to do with the way we bond so quickly and fiercely to each other – we understand each others’ love for the guys, which is something indescribable to most. Add in a few things in common & you’ve quickly made a lifelong friendship that will hover somewhere between a good friend and a literal family member. (You’re reading this – you know that!) Now it’s 2010 and after a (literally) show-stopping performance with the Backstreet Boys on the American Music Awards, suddenly everyone’s a fan again?! I guess the coast is clear! They’re back on top! Dust off your merchandise, claim/admit to being a fan, it’s cool to like them again…I’ll pull up the bandwagon, who wants on?

It just frustrates me. I guess I want a little credit. The guys know who the “soldiers” are, I know. We also know each other, so we know what’s what. But bandwagon fans have always bothered me. As I said before, it’s claiming that you’re “still” a fan that gets to me. That’s not the right word. Many of those girls (and guys?) forgot all about the New Kids many, many years ago. That’s fine; I get it. It just proves their loyalty & dedication – and ours. And hey, seriously: welcome (back, where it applies). It’s good to have you, please stay a while this time! You’ll learn what those of us who never left have known all along: the ride is, as the kids say, “epic.” These guys are amazing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m looking forward to the next chapter with the New Kids, which includes (of course!) the faithful BH family, the Backstreet Boys, their fans, and many fans both new & returning. I sincerely mean from the bottom of my heart that anyone who enjoys any part of it all has a place in my heart. Without each of us, this might not be possible. I won’t lie and say I don’t bristle a bit and think “back of the line, please!” when one of the back in the days says something that tips me off to their having not been down all along. But having said all this, I hope to get over it and enjoy the ride. One of my “twistas” (twitter + sista) recently said something that stuck with me. I didn’t remember to save it, so I have to paraphrase, but the idea was that no matter the ups and downs, as long as this ride keeps going I’m gonna be in the front row, screaming with my hands up. I couldn’t say it better myself. I’m looking forward to sharing the ride with anyone who wants to come along, whether you just discovered them for the very first time last night, you have just had your love for them reawakened, or you’ve been loving them forever. I mean that. I just needed to process through this so I don’t have to carry it with me for one second longer than necessary – Donnie raised me better than that!

Who’s with me?

Edited: November 23rd, 2010

i was givin’ up and you walked into my life

Just a quick post to let you guys know I’ve decided to start a new section of the page called Neighbors (as in, you know…we all live on the block, so we’re neighbors. Get it?)

Anyway, what I’ve been wanting to do for a while is collect other amazing, inspiring, touching stories about how the New Kids have made significant impacts on the lives of my BH sistas. While it’s cool that my story is here for all to see, I think it’d be even cooler if there were others available to read as well. One of the best things about being a BH is the unshakable bond we share because of the New Kids. More often than not, when a girl is touched by my story, she says, “thanks for writing that! I can so relate” and/or that she’s never been able to put her similar story into words. I want to either help you guys do that, or at least have a place where we can put the really beautiful ones.

So…I’m officially open to submissions. Show me what you got, and let’s make the guys proud! Send me your story! Can’t wait to read ‘em! Keep keepin’ on! Love you all!

Edited: September 7th, 2010

baby, you make my dreams come true

Since I first wrote Life on the Block almost two years ago, a lot has changed. I didn’t really realize until recently how out of date the ending was. Every once in a while someone would comment (mostly on Twitter or Facebook) that they hope I get to meet the rest of the guys or something, and I’d realize it needs an update. Well, this is finally it! (Thanks to the personal story contest at Glamour magazine, I had to actually edit the thing & am motivated to set the record straight!)

This is likely to be a long post, but I promise it’ll be worth your while…some great stories!! Since my first reunion show in Vegas (Oct ’08 at Mandalay Bay), I’ve seen nine more reunion shows (and counting)! I missed at least two in my area just before that first Vegas show, but not for lack of trying. Somehow, I missed the original onsale dates and tried to get them via eBay and the like, but to no avail at the last minute (and in at least one instance, I know for sure I could’ve gone but couldn’t get out of work). To make up for it, I got tickets to the San Diego & LA shows (Nokia, specifically) in November of ’08. Following that, I saw 2 1/2 shows (one was an afterparty with Joe, Jordan & Donnie at House of Blues LA) in Santa Barbara & LA in April ’09. Santa Barbara was perhaps my fave show – the first outdoor show since Magic Summer, and it was gorgeous and the floor was GA: I was in about the third row with my friend Tera & it was amazing. At the Palladium the next night, I got separated from my friends and (of course!) made new ones, Rachel and Dafna. As luck would have it, Dafna & I were both from the Bay Area, so she’s become a great friend.

By this point, my bestie (not what we’d call a diehard BH, but has always loved the guys, especially Jon) decided she couldn’t miss another show: she’d never been when we were kids. The next tour that came our way (Full Service) hit Concord, Ca, which is a fantastic place to see anyone. We got lucky: when you buy accessible seats, you’re stuck farther back than you’d like to be (often there isn’t any wheelchair seating up in the front, or there’s a general admission/standing-room-only area in the very front). But sometimes…sometimes your luck swings the other way and you wind up with front row seats – it all comes out “in the wash,” as they say. The first time this ever happened to us was the day we bought our front row seats to the New Kids in Concord. You can’t imagine our excitement! It was an absolutely amazing show and…then came the afterparty.

Donnie held a soiree that night at Infusion Lounge in SF. We were determined to go, but the place was crowded and we couldn’t really get to him or even see much of him. When creepy boys started trying to dance up on my girl (unfortunately, it happens all the time), we were ready to go. As were heading out, though, a sweet sister stopped us, determined to help us get to Donnie. (I’ll be honest, I’m certain it was because of the wheelchair, but the thing is…Cass is used to this. Sometimes, she’s discriminated against because of it. Other times, she gets special favors. Again, it all balances out.) This girl, Katee, managed to help us get all the way across the club to the velvet rope, where security let us into Donnie’s VIP area. There were several BHs watching that didn’t seem thrilled about the ease with which we’d pulled this off, but what are you gonna do? Because it was due to Cass that we were in the VIP in the first place, I hung back and let her talk to Donnie. I knew she loved him and thought it should be her moment. They talked for a few minutes, and took the cutest pic:

and then he turned to me. He went to hug me automatically, and then pulled back and gave me the weirdest look. I paused and just watched him, confused. He said, “oh, it’s you!” My response? “Excuse me?” I listened, stunned, as he told me, “I was watching you down there in the front row all night! You were having so much fun, I kept wanting to jump down and give you a hug!” I didn’t really have words to answer him, so I motioned for him to hug me, which he did. I did manage to tell him, “I have so much to say to you, but…I don’t know where I’d start.” He motioned to his right, saying, “why don’t you stay for a while, have a drink, I’ll be back.” We declined, because we didn’t want to monopolize his time with so many other BHs around, but he insisted, again pointing to his right, but this time it was more clear: “No, stay. Have a drink, hang out. I’ll be back.” When we realized he was pointing to his VIP table (with open bar), I looked at the table, and back to him and said, “yes, Mr. Wahlberg.” And that’s what we did. He didn’t ever come back, but we were thrilled with the face time he’d given us. So, once again I missed my chance to tell him how much he means to me, but a nightclub isn’t necessarily the most opportune place for a conversation like that anyway, right? Cute pic from the night, all the same:

(Like my “adopt-a-soldier” patch? There’s a huge “D Dub Soldier” stitched across the back of my army shirt.)

After Concord, my SoCal girlfriends called me to say they had an extra ticket for each of the two following shows (Irvine and Vegas). I was supposed to work both days, so I told them to try to sell their tix – I couldn’t work and drive or fly to either show. The day of the Irvine show, I did nothing all day but feel sorry for myself and the fact that I was missing them. I considered calling in sick and getting in the car, knowing if I did I could make it. Instead, I went to work. Only to find out that they didn’t need me. I rushed home and got on the internet to find a quick flight. I was determined to get there. It wasn’t meant to be. There wasn’t enough time to get to SFO (an hour and a half’s drive without traffic) in rush hour and to Irvine – I’d get there for encore. I sulked. The following day, I got out of work early and did the same thing, except this time there was time to get to SFO, and to Vegas in time for the show. I called the girls, told them I was coming, and raced to the airport. As I walked in, I heard them call my name over the loudspeaker. Like a fool, I tried to rush through security rather than to a white courtesy phone. The plane left without me. You can’t imagine my despair. My only comfort was that it made me a true soldier just to have tried. (And happily, I got a full refund!)

Dafna and I had been trying to plan another show together, but everything in our lives kept preventing it. When Casi-NO tour tickets went on sale, my SoCal girls and I got tickets (originally just one night). I asked Daf if she could go, but she had to stop bleeding money for the New Kids, which I understood. Two of my friends had a falling out, though, and when one backed out of going, I offered to see if I could sell the extra ticket to avoid the financial loss. My friends were grateful, and I called Dafna, who decided to go for another show. She was trying to decide between Vegas with me and Radio City Music Hall (to which she urged me to join her). While she was making up her mind, my friends reconciled. Dafna bought a ticket to RCMH and called to say she wanted to come to Vegas as well. When I explained what had happened, she bought a ticket anyway, and since it was general admission, asked me if I’d stay with her instead of my friends so she wouldn’t be alone. Since I felt we were all partly responsible for her going, and there were already at least 4 girls in our room at the Rio, I agreed to stay with her at the Palms – where the show was. When they added a second night, we (of course!) bought tickets to that as well, and then found a stellar deal on our hotel rate. We were set.

Just before our trip to Vegas, Donnie came to SF with Jimmy Marsh and Roscue Umali at Vessel. It didn’t matter that he only performed a song or two – it mattered that he was there. Even stranger, there weren’t a ton of girls there. It was perfect. We had a quick drink, enjoyed the whole set immensely, and managed to get the conversational equivalent of a high five with Dub. In a wildly optimistic gesture, I’d stuffed my Donnie huggable in my purse, as both my Jordan & Joe are autographed and I’ve always wanted to have a complete set. By the end of the night, I had three down, two to go! Next stop: Vegas, please!

Vegas was magical. Literally, someone or something was looking out for us. The Palms is basically three hotels in one, as there’s an original Palms Tower, the Fantasy Tower, and Palms Place. It just so happened, we were in the same locale as the New Kids – excellent! Now, I’m not the girl that goes wandering around the hotel looking for the guys, but in a huge place like this, it can’t hurt to be in close proximity – right? In truth, we never left the Palms once. How could we, when both shows were there and general admission? We felt it’d be silly to do much but stand around. Of course, we had to fight with security and convince them we weren’t lining up, because we weren’t supposed to, but how else do you get close? Both nights, it was worth it; the shows were amazing. After the first night, there was an afterparty at Rain. It was fun, and the DJ was fantastic, but it was crowded and my feet hurt (in my Chucks, no less! Imagine all the poor girls in heels). I was pretty sure I didn’t have much chance of getting to any of the guys that were there (Donnie, Jordan, and Joe with Barrett, though others might’ve been there at some point, too). Dafna and I had agreed ahead of time that it was okay for either of us to leave early if we so chose, so I took off and headed back to the room. I couldn’t decide whether I was more excited to wash off my makeup or get off my poor feet, but I washed my face, changed into my PJs, and crawled into bed. As I was checking my email and Twitter, Dafna texted me that she’d just bumped into Jordan downstairs. I knew it was too late for me to catch him, but she was pretty sure it meant Donnie was on his way. I threw my hair in a ponytail, changed into jeans, and pulled on a homemade hoodie. Hell, I didn’t even care enough to put on any makeup! As I came out of the elevator, I could see camera flashes. I stood where I was and watched the scene come toward me. Earl put his hand up as Dafna came to me. He said, “sorry, no more.” I honestly shrugged, because I’d survive. But Dafna really wanted a picture, so it didn’t surprise me that she earnestly said, “Donnie, one more? Please?” When I saw him hesitate for a second, I motioned to her to quickly give me her camera. I took a shot as quickly as I could and Donnie smiled at me, saying, “you gotta give me a hug for that!” I thought he meant for taking the picture for my friend, but I realized he was pointing to what I was wearing, and it was the first realization I had of what I’d thrown on:

It’s not something I made expecting the guys to see. I made it as a badge of honor, a shoutout to other BHs wherever they may notice it and me. I laughed at Donnie and he gave me a hug while I told him, “okay, but you should really read the back!” He spun me around and dragged his finger across my back as he read:

Then, he declared, “that’s gangsta shit! Wear it tomorrow!” Believe me, I had it with me for the entire duration of our trip.

The next morning, we caught Danny on his way back from the gym. Once again, I’d planned ahead and had the right huggable with me, so he signed him for me. (I have to say, though, I don’t think he needed to shame me about it…he said, “oh my God. The worst thing is when my girls play with these!” I was a little offended. I wanted to tell him that having it doesn’t equate to playing with it when you’re in your thirties, but I tried to let it go. I was, after all, happy to finally meet him.)

I know, it could be better, but…I’m just happy to have it!

On the last day in Vegas, we found Donnie as we were getting ready to check out. We were lucky because no other fans were around to see us where we stood. He stood and chatted with us for quite a while, insisting I needed to go with Dafna to NYC. I kept telling him I couldn’t afford it, he kept telling me, “just get there!!” When I sensed he was about ready to leave us, I looked at him and we locked eyes for a minute. I told him, in all sincerity, “I love you.” He smiled and said, “I love you too, baby.” I knew he meant it, and it was such an unforgettable moment. He left, telling me again to get to Radio City and “bring your hoodie!” I’d forgotten to give him my card (a business card with my info and the web address for the site, because it’s easier than trying to say all I feel in a few quick minutes), but I followed him, caught up to him, and gave it to him. It’s actually possible he’s read this site you’re reading, which is a feeling of accomplishment to me, even if it’s only a possibility.

After we checked out, we were having lunch at the Palms before we had to leave, both a bit disappointed at not getting to see Jon. Of course, he’s the most reclusive and therefore the hardest to get to, but I couldn’t imagine how I’d get to him if it wasn’t that weekend when we’d been lucky enough as to be in such close proximity to them the whole time. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” we agreed. And then…in walked Jon. Right into the restaurant we’d just sat down in. Dafna saw him first and just nudged me, a little shell-shocked. I figured it was now or never, and she didn’t look like she was going to speak up, so I said, “Jon? Would you mind if we stopped you for just a sec?” I put my hand up tentatively as though it would stop him if my words didn’t, but his reaction completely surprised me. He said, “sure, sweetheart,” and took my hand. I’ll never forget his unexpected warmth and sweetness. It’s not that I thought Jon wasn’t a sweet guy, it’s just that I expected him to be so much shier than he actually was. I guess it’s probably because we were alone, no one else was around, and we asked nicely. We treated Jon with respect and he was happy to oblige. I thanked him for being a part of the reunion and told him how much it meant to me, and then we left him to his friends. We couldn’t believe our good fortune – all five of my silly huggables are now signed!

(Jon signed the back of his, hence the inlay.)

Apparently, Radio City Music Hall was meant to be. I watched fares and hotel rates with Dafna, and when a round trip ticket from me to Newark & back popped up at $240 (the lowest I can remember seeing in at least five years), I snatched it and called it my graduation present to myself. Because RCMH shows were assigned seating rather than GA, we were free to play in NYC. We didn’t waste much time hanging out at the venue, because we’re both huge fans of Manhattan and there was too much to see, do, and eat! We never did get to see or talk to the guys, but we went to two of the three shows (June 18 & 19) and they were fantastic. I hope they’re not the last shows I’ll have ever seen, but if they are – they were perfect. That night we ran into Trisha, whom we’d met briefly at the afterparty at Rain in Vegas. Though I have to say, I had a hard time seeing my hero cry:

Thank you, Joe, for not visibly shedding tears onstage. I would’ve been the little piggy who went ‘wah, wah, wah’ alllllll the way home. This night (6/19/10) felt monumental to me, and not because the Backstreet Boys were a special guest. I’ll never forget it.

So…what’s next? Well, in May of 2009, I couldn’t set sail with my five brothers or two thousand sisters, thanks to finals. In May of 2010, this was true because I was graduating. And now? I’m not messing around! I’ve got my BA and I’m ready to get down to business! I’m on the boat and can’t wait! My girls Jen & Tera both had to back out for financial reasons, so I met new roomies on Twitter and will be sailing with Michelle and Donna instead! See you in Miami, trick!

Edited: September 6th, 2010

there’s just so much that i wanna say…

Edited: November 13th, 2008