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 I didn’t really realize until recently how out of date the ending was.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…

but when I look at you,
all my thoughts get in the way…
i’ll be loving you forever.

My life on The Block began in 1986. I was in the first grade. I’ve spent more than two decades trying to accurately express my love for the New Kids on the Block, and the gratitude I feel. Over the years, I’ve come to believe that very few people will ever grasp these feelings – the NK themselves, and my fellow Blockheads. Most of us believe it’s something that can’t really be explained to the rest of the world because you just have to experience it to ‘get’ it. It might be possible, however, to grasp it through the eyes and life of someone who’s been there…

I can still remember my very first New Kids experience. I was seven years old, in the record store with my brothers (all four of them), the self-titled NKOTB cassette tape in my hand, asking them “you don’t know who they are?” incredulously. I, of course, had never heard of them either, but I thought they looked great and wanted to be ‘in the know’ before anyone else. It was the first cassette tape I ever bought with my own money.

That same year, I was abused by an older boy I knew and trusted. Further complicating matters, I repressed the memories of the trauma. Unconsciously, I quickly taught myself to be mean – a defense mechanism I must have believed would keep me from future betrayal. I guess I thought that if I could keep people at arm’s length, they wouldn’t be able to hurt me. For nineteen years, I couldn’t explain why I unintentionally hurt so many people I loved. I never meant to be so mean, I just couldn’t control it. I left a trail of human shrapnel in my wake.

There were happy times, too, of course. The New Kids brought a lot of positivity into my life. I grew up pretty sheltered, all things considered. I went to a small private school with the same group of kids from kindergarten through seventh grade. I missed a lot of the New Kids’ TV appearances because my parents’ religion prohibited me from watching on Saturday. (Many years later, thanks to eBay, I recovered a lot of the cartoons, pay-per-view concerts, Saturday morning appearances, and other missed opportunities on VHS.) I didn’t have access to the kind of kids who cut class, dropped out, or did drugs, but I still appreciated the messages of “don’t do drugs!” and “stay in school!” Donnie (my rebel sister’s favorite), in particular, was extremely vocal about peace, clearly taking his opportunity to be a role model seriously. I will always be grateful for that.

One of my closest friends in elementary school, Kristi, shared my love for the New Kids. We even had the same favorite – Joe. I remember spending hours in her room (hot pink because, though we both had the sheets, she had the New Kids comforter as well), screaming out “YES!” to Joe’s “tell me do I tell you that I love you?” We also had the dolls, the t-shirts, and posters and pinups that we would kiss goodnight. When the guys did a Coke commercial, we swore off Pepsi forever. (And though I’m not really a soda drinker anymore, the preference is with me to this day.) I remember the day the guys were on Oprah for the entire hour…Kristi and I raced home from school as fast as we could. (And you better believe the VCR was already taping!) Just the other day, in fact, I heard someone whistling Strangers in the Night…it still takes me back every time.

In 1990, my parents bought me tickets to the No More Games Live tour for my birthday. I was eleven going on twelve, and the memory of that night is so permanently etched in my mind, I could describe in detail not just the sign I (of course!) took with me (“I’ll be loving JOE forever!!”), but my entire outfit. My poor dad had no idea what he was in for – he took a Walkman with him, hoping to catch a little of the Warriors game and tune out the show. Even if that had been possible amid the thousands of screaming girls, I was definitely screaming too loudly in his ear for him to have had a chance at hearing anything at all. It was my first real concert, and I watched in awe – I couldn’t believe how it felt to realize they were real people. I had seen them on TV a million times, and loved them for so long, but to see them live and in person truly rocked my world.

Over the next year or two, the New Kids’ popularity began to decline. The boys had always made fun of them, but when the girls I knew started abandoning the NK for Motley Crue, Poison, and Warrant, I wasn’t ready to let go. I felt scared and alienated. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the New Kids on the Block were a safe place for me – a warm, happy, innocent place of comfort. I couldn’t imagine leaving that behind. Kristi dropped them for rap and we grew apart. I had a hard time coming to grips with all the ridicule, and grappled with being teased about my preferences. For a brief time, I even pretended not to like them anymore. I will regret that forever, but at the time I didn’t have the courage to own my choices. I loved the New Kids on the Block – in some ways, it was about cute boys. In some ways, it was about the music: it was fun, it was catchy – I still love it. But it was so much more.

The year I started high school, the New Kids changed their name officially to NKOTB, released Face the Music, and eventually broke up. My life was spiraling out of control personally, and I drifted for a few years, feeling completely lost. 1997 was my senior year of high school, my friend Betsy and I got to talking, and I don’t remember how, but we started reminiscing about the good old days of the New Kids. One of us dug out old videotapes, and I discovered that old safe, comfortable, happy feeling. It’s the only thing I know that makes me smile so hard it hurts, every time. I began to recognize this pattern in myself – when things were difficult, I returned to the New Kids. Though my love for them has always been real, I started to realize that it was more than just that – it was the nostalgia I felt, safe in my happy place.

That year, I had access to the internet in my home for the first time. That opened up endless new possibilities for a girl like me hoping to connect with others who shared her passion. I met Laura, a young girl in Ohio, and we instantly connected. We used to stay up all night emailing back and forth, reminiscing and laughing. I felt like I was loved, understood, and accepted. We had a mailing list set up for all of the fans to communicate on, and when it needed to be named, I came up with “New Kids Underground.” The owner of the list liked it, and it stuck. Through NKU I met Tera in 1998. Joe and Jordan were both beginning solo careers, and Donnie had begun acting. In hopes of meeting Donnie, I went to a screening of Southie in LA. That night, not only did I meet Tera in person, I also met her best friend Jen, and we all managed to meet Donnie. That year, I also met both Joe and Jordan. It was amazing to fulfill a lifelong dream, though I would have been entirely unsuccessful if I’d have even tried to tell them what they meant to me – I couldn’t even put it into words if I tried. In part, that was because I didn’t fully know yet. I decided, instead, to get a tattoo of an NKOTB logo. I didn’t realize at the time how frequently I would be asked about it, and feel like I should explain or defend my choice. Two years later, I grew tired of the questions, and had it covered up. I still wasn’t ready or able to express myself accurately. Tera was appalled at my decision, and we didn’t speak for several years after that.

Though both Jordan and Joe continued their solo singing careers rather steadily, as did Donnie with his acting, I felt like I was in a New Kids wilderness for the next several years. I didn’t see Jon and Jordan’s appearance on Oprah from 2001 until years later, but I heard about Jon’s struggle with anxiety. It broke my heart. I felt as though Jon had sacrificed his own health and happiness for the fans, in some ways. I will always feel so appreciative for his selflessness and courage.

In 2005, a breakup triggered the repressed memories from my childhood, and my life was immediately turned upside down. I suddenly found myself living alone in a city with no close friends, 500 miles from home. I had never felt more alone in my life. I was forced to take a long hard look at who I had become as a result of what had happened to me at so young an age. Eventually, I was able to forgive myself as I sought forgiveness from those I had hurt. I spent time tracking down many of those I’d lost touch with simply to tell them I was not that same hurtful person, and that I was sorry for how I had treated them. It was a new day dawning, though – I realized that I had the power from that moment on to choose the person I wanted to be. I felt as though I had spent my whole life trying to run a marathon without ever having learned to crawl. I decided I needed to go back to the start and learn how to be a human being. I gave myself permission to feel things, stopped trying to be so tough, and let my guard down. I got back in touch with Tera and mended fences. Through her, I met Jennifer, who lived in San Diego, too. Once again, I turned to the New Kids on the Block for comfort, and as always, they were there.

Over the years, I never completely lost touch with Laura. We had a major falling out, and even then, I could never completely turn my back on her – we had been friends for too long, been through too much together. We lived eight states apart, and still, she had become like family to me. Jen, Tera, Jennifer, too. These women share with me something so rare and so precious – I don’t know what I would do without them. I’m sure that most of the world thinks we’re just a bunch of overgrown groupies, teenyboppers, or freaks, and that’s fine. The truth is I no longer care what people think about it. I finally feel freed to love them the way I always have, and now that I can finally express my true feelings about them, I also don’t feel the need to. It’s something that’s so inherently a part of who I am, you either get it or you don’t. Either way, the only choice is to accept it.

We never really gave up hope for a reunion. I also must admit, I never really thought it would actually happen. It seems it all happened so fast, it didn’t seem real. Maybe it isn’t that it really did happen fast, but just that we had waited and hoped and prayed for so long, when it was truly becoming reality, it was hard to believe. The first appearance as a group on the Today show gave me chills. The day The Block came out, I cried as I listened to it. I couldn’t believe that after fourteen years without new music, I had eighteen new songs. In late 2008, Jen, Tera, Jennifer and I assembled in Las Vegas with a few friends to see the reunion tour together. The entire experience was surreal. At one point, I remember Donnie saying something about “the last time we saw most of you, you weren’t even legal!” He was right – I stood there watching the five of them back together after so long, and realized I hadn’t been in the presence of all of them like that in eighteen years. I was so emotionally overwhelmed, I didn’t even begin to process until days later. I think it was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. That night meant more to me than I can ever say.

The New Kids on the Block were there for me when I needed them – all those times over so many years of my life when I needed a safe, happy place to retreat to, they were it. Nothing in the world has ever made me feel the way they do. Whether it’s listening to The Block or Hangin’ Tough, watching Wildest Dreams, or just reminiscing, nothing in my life has ever come close. My gratitude to them for that is immeasurable. Though I’ve met three of the five, I still hope for a “do-over.” I won’t feel right until I’ve had the chance to meet Danny, and to tell Jon how much his return to the group means to me, how much I respect his courage, and to tell all of them even just a fraction of what they’ve meant to me. In Donnie’s words, I need a little “face time.” I would give anything in the world to have the chance. If it doesn’t happen, I hope somehow they know – the New Kids on the Block saved my life.

I’ve been writing since I was a kid. It’s always been my dream to be published in one way or another. I’d like to one day publish this memoir – “My life on The Block,” in some kind of magazine one day (after I’ve met successfully finished the end of the story).

we’ve come too far to ever turn back now
this love will last forever,
i can see it all now…

Pssst! Some things have changed since I wrote this post. Click here out for updated details!

Edited: November 13th, 2008

Stop SOPA