Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Purr-fect (oy)

Ha ha - nice going, Eric. That's Eric Svalgard, keyboard player with Project Object at Zappanale. Who is that he's with?

Why, it's Dr. Dot.

And speaking of Project Object, yep, the Zappanale pics are trickling in, and I finally found one of Eric Slick on stage behind the drums:

And by the way, Dr. Dot and my son Eric (I feel I must now clarify between Erics in light of the above photo) are actually pretty good friends and hung out together for a bit at Zappanale.

I'm so proud of him.

No really, I am.

And lest you think my son roughed it in Bad Doberan, Germany, well, at times he did, and the stories are hilarious but he will murder me if I spill so you'll just have to settle for a nice pretty tourist pic of the beach/Baltic Sea, which Eric was finally able to visit after four years at Zappanale - this is the first time he performed where he actually had r&r after the show.

If you didn't click on that Dr. Dot link when I posted it above and a couple of days ago, by all means, give yourself a treat. Here. I will make it easy for you and post it yet a third time. I myself am now hopelessly addicted. Even her MySpace buddies are way cool. You won't find any sparkley kitty Have A Purr-fect Day idiocy in her comments section, which, truth to tell, is one of the reasons I have a MySpace site but never use it. But I'm begging you all, if you do stop by, for the love of God, no glitter or smiley rodents wearing sunglasses...arghhh....

Hey, as a follow up to my post of yesterday, Neil Gaiman's Stardust is still page one (though I've slipped to page you think it's because he's a tad more famous than I?) over at Media Predict. And we are both doing very, very well.

So once again, please register, buy shares, and influence the world. Here's the direct link to me and here's the direct link to Neil.

I'm pretty psyched about this. It bodes well for my book. Oh, and for Stardust. Ha ha - as if Stardust needs help. But I'm still completely freaked that it's not being shown anywhere in Philadelphia on Friday. What a travesty! I would have gone, I swear. I know what it means to be in the theater that opening night...I remember how we waited to hear the numbers for Rock School on a Friday at midnight and how I had no idea of the importance of the opening night figures. Oh well. You can catch Julie and Eric in Rock School on DVD and the A&E network...bottom line is, they are doing more than alright and the movie was just the beginning.

In other news, life as I know it has returned.

I arrived home late yesterday, went to check on the air conditioning in Julie's room to make sure it would be cool enough for Her Highness, and failed to notice the open, empty suitcase on the floor right at the threshold of her doorway. Ah, I must have been a lovely sight, flying through mid-air, heart in mouth, like a human cannonball headed for her window. I broke my fall with both wrists somehow crashing into the wall, twisting my back, both ankles, and falling onto her bed. I did have my cell phone in my pocket and for an irrational moment considered dialing 911, but I ended up laughing all sprawled out there for a few minutes just to be sure nothing was shattered and I wasn't having a heart attack (is there anything worse than knowing that you are going to fall? Ha ha - maybe knowing that you are going to fail)...but oh how I hate pain and this morning I could barely step into my jeans without agony.

Naturally I had to go out today. So I'm taking Advil, cursing myself for not joining a gym years ago so I would have nice limber bones, and thinking about how I'm always the one injured -- always the person who found that stray Lego with her bare feet while making a bathroom trip in the middle of the night; always the one whose same foot found that missing thumb tack that fell from a poster on a wall and no one noticed; and yeah, yeah, the person who still has a lump on her forehead decades after running full force into a huge pole while running to catch a train.

What can you do. Some of us just have a knack, you know?