KAndre

{{{{jmh}}}}

The flu is a bad, bad thing. I think Tamiflu is a good thing, but no flu would be the best thing ever. I've managed to actually stay up a little to today. Damn, I like Clay Aiken. David Foster is making me like him too.

KAndre crawls back to the land of the semi-reasonable (my over-priced MS wireless keyboard and mouse went insane and so had to dig up my old logitech trackball, and then had to dig up a wired keyboard to make it work (which I had given my one wired keyboard to my mother because she had done something to hers and I was too cheap to spend $2 last week, but now stupid MicroCenter's cheapest one was like FIVE BUCKS), only to find I had NO freakin' AAA batteries anywhere in the freakin' in the house, and so go back outside (for the 4th time) to be exposed to Halloween madness - and yes, if you are a grown ass man going to a Halloween party, waiting until 4 pm on frickin' Halloween to find a freakin' costume is going to limit your choice. And no, the cashier ain't selling you hers. Doofus.). But upon review of Couchie's week, I'm good.

Hmmmm...I was scrolling through MSNBC and was distracted by Adam Lambert french-kissing some girl (the boy does seem to be obsessed with his own tongue), and he said something I think is apropos to Clay (or any artist, really): “There’s a feeling of entitlement (with the fans) because they voted to get us where we are. But you know what? I am responsible for what I created on the show — you voted for what I created, and thank you, but I created it, you didn’t” Hold your hair back - I'm doing analogies again! I think of performing artists sort of like chefs (what can I say, I've been distracted by Mark Dacascos on DWTS - he is seriously tasty - and no, I have no idea if he can cook). I feel like some fans think of Clay as a catering chef - ultimately he needs to provide what you order. There may be a little leeway in the choices (I want chicken; do what you want to to it but it must be CHICKEN! No beef, no alligator, no tofu!) but the chef has a bridezilla and minions to please and the other guests better learn to suck it up. I think Clay is the chef of his own restaurant - doesn't look like franchising is in his future (no commercial KFC for Clay - even though he probably likes KFC as long as the chicken's hot), no Bobby Flay/Morimoto/Wolfgang Puck empire, but a nice place that has had some nice write up, a fair number of locals like it, and some know and love the chef's food enough to eat off menu (like the Gala).

All I've got to say is some people (merrieeee) don't actually have plausible deniability, along with a fair amount of incriminating evidence.

Heh, it wasn't on elevator - it was in the front of Trumps place in Atlantic City during the last shows of the JBT. Some very, very, VERY seasoned Clay fans (of the pink- and blue-haired persuation) worked up the nerve to approach me, exclaim how lovely I looked, how well I sang, and tried to get the dish on Clay and what it was like performing with him. Being the sweeter 'n sugar person that I am, I saw no point in disabusing them of the notion that I had ground against one Mr. Aiken in the past, and exclaimed happily he was hot, he loved his fans and I was extremely happy. We all went away satisfied. This trip was fairly straightforward. Moi, merrieeee and Scarlett were taking out of Houston on 7 pm flight to Raleigh, to meet PerusingOne (who was getting the car). Kimiye wasn't showing up until Saturday. I left work early on Thursday and took Friday off to prepare for my trip (which consisted of getting my hair braided in the most painful way possible and buying new cheap clothes from Target because I am literally too lazy to wash. And Target had a sale!). I do the mani/pedi thing, track down the batteries for my camera, and realize it's 3 in the afternoon. Since merrieeee had made scoffing noises at the notion that I could get to the airport before they started boarding, I just take the bag I hadn't unpacked from Labor Day with the eHP, and toss everything I just bought from Target and my Gala ensemble in my I-swear-to-God-it-has-to-be-real-since-that-nice-Singapore-lady-wouldn't-sell-me-a-fraudulent-Samsonite-bag-for-basically-$7-now-would-she, throw both bags in the car and take off for the airport at 4pm - and immediately run into wall-to-wall traffic consisting of all the Houstonians in the Galleria/Greenway Plaza area who decided to miss the rush hour traffic. Ah well. I make the airport by 5pm, check my google phone and see there is one spot in first class open (since Scarlett got upgraded on her own merits) go through the international terminal (because heaven knows I need to have my Elite line to bypass all those who are not Elite), zip through the TSA line, text merrieeee for her vitals so she can piss off lesser Elites and get the last 1st class seat because I like her better (and it turns out she has STILL managed to beat my butt to the airport), and make a run for the gate...until I realize I still have like almost 2 hours to make it to the freakin' gate. So I go strolling casually up to the gate, squeal with merrieeee (who is still amazed that she didn't have to have them hold the plane for me. That would be Scarlett instead. Who flew in from somewhere else, was delayed for hours, didn't arrive at IAH until after 3 pm and still went home and came back to the airport carrying the 4 weeks' worth of clothes she had on the first flight, so she ended up carrying like 4 suitcases for a 2-day trip.) Not that we mocked her or anything. Okay, so we mocked her, but hell, it was mockable, unlike my unwillingness to wash clothes. Scarlett is one of the last to board, but we still get off a little early and are offered our meal selections, which are a "cheeseburger" and "Asian breaded shrimp". Anything called "Asian breaded shrimp" I know enough to stay away from, but Scarlett and merrieeee are occasionally trusting souls. Suckers. A couple of Cosmos improved my "cheeseburger" tremendously. We touch down almost 20 minutes early; PerusingOne has landed early as well and has texted us that she was picking up the rental car. I tell her we are at the baggage carousel 2. Scarlett, merrieeee and I jokingly discusss how unfair it would be to Solo if we actually we outside waiting for PerusingOne...turns out we weren't joking. Altough it was TOTALLY not our fault because when PerusingOne called to shriek 'where were we' I hadn't actually checked any of her subsequent emails that said she had gotten the car and was on her way and she apparently thought I said "Baggage Claim 2" since that's what it said outside even though she should know us well enough to know we wouldn't actually go outside and apparently carousel 2 is no where near the outside Continental sign which makes all of it Raleigh/Durham Internat'l Airport's fault. Except she was apparently at the wrong terminal (which we discovered when this delightfully attractive man overhearing my phone convo with PO let us know there were other, like, terminals) and PO didn't actually know what color car she was driving besides the fact it was dark-colored and therefore couldn't give us any specifics so we were making random guesses. She eventually showed up in a light green car. Off we went to the hotel. Me 'n PO immediately set the thermometer to an appropriate temperature for indoor living, while merrieeee and Scarlett fell victim to the idea if you can't feel your toes, it's a good thing. Eventually we all went to sleep, and at some point, PO went to get Kimiye.

I'm back (and in time to watch TAR! Yay me!) All I can say, if vocal "perfection" is the only goal for a live performance, no wonder ProTools is doing a booming business - and IMO, to the detriment of performing. He's has sounded better - he's sounded worse...he happens to do performances that I love. Do I love everything's he done? Well, no...and a perfect example of that was when he was whispering instead of singing MGUCL - technically good, but I hated the stylistic choice. But that was just me (and whoever else didn't like it). There is not a performer out there who bats 1000 every outing - and questioning the "serious intentions" of someone who only hit 800 one night is really picky to me (of course, I have no idea what batting a 10000 or 800 actually means - I assume someone like Babe Ruth batted a thousand and Mickey Mantle batted like 800 since I heard of Babe Ruth more). It's art- when he's up there on stage live, there's no do overs or take it from the top or backspace and correct - the man put on a show. Some ain't happy with the show (some for more legitimate reasons than others), that's their prerogative as well. For a charity Gala of NIP's level - it was freaking awesome. And I have an mp3 of a couple of new songs that Clay sounds fantastic on. I got to flirt with a couple of hot guys. Ate some kick ass stuff. For $200 and my flight, I'm ahead of the game. I'll work on a recap - since y'all have been such good minions. And Couchie, I was only confused with you once! Ha Ha! Thank you justclay12 (and yes, everyone else who saw me this weekend is welcome to praise the glory that was my ensemble - tasteful, understated and elegant was I!)

Pants are good...Clay noticing no pants could be better...Jerome noticing no pants could be trouble!

Merrieeee, you know perfectly well if you stand outside in the sauna we've named "Houston", those 20 lbs will just melt off! Dang, I like it warm, but 90% humidity is a titch much for October. fondly pats aikim's countdown... I have my dress. I have my bling. I have my shoes. I've cleaned out my ears. I think I'm set!

Oddly enough, drawing on inappropriate surfaces is not something my child ever did, he never was into that sort of creativeness - however, I, when I was in the first grade, learned about the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria, and was suitably impressed enough that I decided to decorate my room with them - and the crayons on the wall didn't seem to add enough "oomph" to what I thought they should look like. So I decided to make them three-dimensional - by using the claw end of a hammer to dig in the wall. Well, the sheetrock turned out to be thinner than I thought, so I decided to make silhouettes instead. Took up an entire wall and all day. I showed my father in delight, and after a period of silence, he sat on the floor with his head in his hands that eventually turned out to be laughter and declared his admiration for my "talent" but suggested more appropriate materials. My father was a much more tolerant parent than I could dream of being. In retrospect, I'm lucky my mother had left by that time, because she would have gone all Robo-Cop on me (and frankly, I would have totally understand that).

KAndre looks around FCA and decides to vent.... Whine! Whine, whine, whimper, whine about my job. Mainly because we just got our reviews back from May (they love me except those who fear me, yadda yadda yadda) just in time to do our October reviews! Why the hell are we reviewed twice a year? Why? Why, why, why??!??! It's not like anyone does anything different - I've been using the same reviews for the same people twice a year for the last five years. Hmph! Clay has a better job than me. I need to learn how to sing. And I clearly can't remember to do formatting right either!

And now for something completely different... Ahem. The State Fair of Texas will be arriving in a couple of weeks. I'm sure Clay is all proud of North Carolina's little shindig, and some of my compatriots might even show up. Me, I might have to do a compare-and-constrast. See, Texas has got to be the "you bring it, we'll deep-fat fry that sucker up" king~ They've released this year's newest entries: Green Goblins: Cherry peppers stuffed with spicy shredded chicken and guacamole, battered, deep-fried and topped with queso. Twisted Yam on a Stick: A spiral-cut sweet potato, fried on a skewer, then rolled in butter and dusted with cinnamon and sugar. Fernie’s Deep Fried Peaches & Cream: Served with a side of vanilla buttercream icing for dipping. Texas Fried Pecan Pie: A mini-pecan pie battered, deep fried and served with caramel sauce, whipping cream and chopped candied pecans. Country Fried Pork Chips: Battered, thin-sliced pork loin deep fried and served with sides of ketchup or cream gravy. Sweet Jalapeno Corn Dog Shrimp: Shrimp on a stick, coated with a sweet and spicy cornmeal batter, deep fried and served with a spicy glaze. Fried Peanut Butter Cup Macaroon: A peanut butter cup wrapped inside a coconut macaroon, fried and then dusted with powdered sugar. But the piece de resistance? Are you ready? From the man who brought you Fried Coke... Fried Butter. Yeah, he did it. Fried freakin' butter. And I am so there!

Well, as for Clay's looks - sometimes I think he just looks a mess. There is nothing wrong with looking a mess (lord knows, I have no problem with looking like one occasionally). I have yet to have know anyone who doesn't occasionally look a mess. And I will probably comment on it. Not hatin', not feeling superior, just commenting on someone I find interesting. When he looks good, I comment on that too. I have every faith that Clay has seen me and occasionally has been highly entertained...and not in that "OMG, she's so hot, I might even think about playing for the other team!" sort of way. Any dude who will mess with his friends over weaves, Spanx, and "black hole" is probably aware that he also has been less than sartorially perfect. Shrivel up and die if others were to comment on my appearance? Moi? Ahem, I don't think so.

I'm sorry. OMG, I'm sorry. But he looks like he electrocuted a small mammal and stuck it on his head. Crookedly. I swear, I can see four legs and a tail. And Solo is laughing in horror because it cannot be denied. Now she says no, I said he looks like he's wearing a wig. A bad one. Wig, toupee. Toupee, small dead mammal. All the same.

the person who didn't show up until 5 hours ago wants to say "San Antonio or bust". Of course, since it's only San Antonio, I'm not sure why. And yes, we are going 124 miles to get barbecue first. Because we're Texans. And we roll like that. 8 am barbeque is important.

My fav Clay look? Winter, 2006 - shoulder length, rich, wavy chestnut locks, beautifully pale skin (sometimes I seriously like the pasty!), pants of ass-cuppage perfection of a suit that probably cost more than many people's mortage payment, smooth-cheeked, bright-eyed, wicked-looking. That's what makes me want exercise my tongue muscles!

KAndre squints REALLLLLL hard to see something difference in Clay's build besides, "damn, that boy is skinny"... Never liked stubble. And someone needs to lead the dude to a voluminizing shampoo. Or one on those 1 inch hair lump things they sell on late-night teevee.... And Mariah is supposed to be running scared of Whitney's comeback - and whenever Mariah wants as close to a surefire hit as she can get - she does a big cover. Of a big ballad. Clearly, she needs some of Clay's fanagers. (I just LUV that term!)

See, even Clay likes dark-haired Clay best! Man, I really don't like the Decca picture. But hey, I know all you people in love are blind....heh!

Oh man, Lotus...I was chuckling to myself that over the last week in Kroger, I've been hearing Without You (ATDW version) and TITN and Invisible and OMWH whenever I'm in the store and I giggle to myself!

KAndre chuckles as she watches various member snatch at the "ATDW" brass ring on one of the many merry-go-rounds of the Clay fandom... Hell, I still listen to his AI stuff on a regular basis. I know I just lucked up and really like 98% of the stuff he's put out there (it probably helps that I apparently missed an entire era of the 80's and 90's, because I really don't remember hearing most of the stuff on ATDW before). And that last 2% I don't dislike, just am "meh" about (and am out of step with a huge chunk of the fandom. Like I have a problem with that.) I'm petty enough to snicker that despite those who wept and wailed and rended their garments over the horror that was ATWD (as opposed to those to whom it just isn't their cuppa), and how ATWD, for whatever reason, sold better than OMWH. And I love OMWH, and sort of wish it got a better break, but then I see that it outsold Rufus Wainwright's Grammy-nominated live CD, which came out a few months earlier, to all kinds of critical acclaim and promotion and crap. Clay's CDs are what they are, and I can't be bothered to worry about him or what he might put out next - I'll just listen and enjoy if it's stuff I like, say "oh well, hopefully next time" if it's stuff I don't. Just like any other legitimate artist out there. Since I have always been totally indifferent to labels and what they do (except for a brief period in Clay's career and the annoying "anonymous RCA exec" whining about Clay's fan's bad taste. I have vaguely been aware of battles between labels and artists, but in general, don't care. Or am amused, as with Prince and his running battle with whatever his label was.

The chairman has a very difficult job - staying the fine eyecandy that he is while eating those two nice meals!

Dear me. This was....educational? But Clay and the guys did "Woman in Love" much better. And some people should never EVER be allowed to wear Lycra tights. With socks stuffed in them. But the metal versions of "How Deep Is Your Love" and "Grease" worked much better than I thought they would - "Jive Talking" not so much. And they have a MySpace page: http://www.myspace.com/letsmaketragedyhappen I am not responsible for any trauma experienced while viewing this. You're on your own.

Ahem - I have decided on some entertainment tonight since all of y'all have doing concerts and vacations and babies - I am forcing taking my sister with me to The House of Blues, where we will see... wait for it.... wait for it.... "Black in Black & Tragedy: Metal Tribute to the BeeGees" Woo Hoo! Oddly enough, none of the men in my life (including my musician BIL) seemed to wanna go! I was shocked, SHOCKED I tell ya! I will tell y'all about it when we get back, unless you want a cellcert. This is just getting in the correct mindset for the Gala - I need to do a compare and contrast.

Ahem.... Hooray! New music! crosses fingers and toes and eyes for a tour...

Seriously belated thanks for all the birthday wishes (just now recovering from the celebration...enjoying my forties while I still can!)