Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Day Two

Our second day in Nashville started out innocently enough. I got up and hit the pavement for an early morning jog before the kids woke up. And well, I should have known better than to think Rory would sleep in after getting up at nearly 4 AM every morning for the last year of his life. So, while I was out getting my adrenaline rush on, Bucky was poking Daddy in the face until he was awake.


Sorry, I know its mean, but he IS the child's father, is he not? Shouldn't he get up and make breakfast once in awhile? Not according to Blake, at least not for the first fifteen minutes after I returned home. He did eventually get over himself, like I knew he would, but still. Grow a pair, man, and own up to your responsibilities! But, in his defense, I make it much too easy on him and don't ever make him get up with either of the kids, knowing how little rest he gets while he's on the road. Guess I've coddled them all a bit too much, huh?

So, in an attempt to make up for yelling so loudly so early in the morning, Blake treated us all to breakfast at a little café he enjoys when he's in town. Had some tasty stuffed French toast topped with crème anglaise and a side of mixed berries. Again, I should have known better there – Rory is a berry thief. Big time. While I was enjoying a hot breakfast for once, the little runt was sneaking all my blackberries. And Blake let him! Grrr… He'll get his soon, I know. How? Because he decided he wanted me by his side during his fan club shindig later that day.

In order for me to attend, the kids needed a keeper. We had only one option – so Blake harangued his pal Hunter (and how bizarre is THAT that Blake has a friend named Hunter?) into loaning us his sixteen-year-old daughter for the evening. Luckily, Janna loves kids and had no problems giving up her Thursday afternoon for us. And the sweet thing arrived an hour early so that she could get to know Rory a bit while we were still around. Nice!

Anyway, Blake and I split to have a quick lunch before the chaos ensued, as it always does, when he's let loose in public. The good news is, his fan club president knows his mother and she enjoys keeping him in line. The bad news is, well, he tends to get a bit out of control when he's on stage. But, did you expect anything less?

Things are going well at first. He comes out, plays a few songs, does some Q&A, and then does a few more songs, joking with the small audience of his biggest and best fans. Not long after he launches into the second half of his Q&A, everything goes to hell in a hand basket. Quickly. There's a group of about five young women, younger than me (quit laughing), but old enough to know better, who keep peppering him with personal questions. REALLY personal. Which wasn't that bad at first, asking him silly things like which side of the bed he preferred (left), whether he wore boxers or briefs (tighy whiteys, God help me), and so on and so forth. He got a bit embarrassed over a few of them, but mainly because they fell under the TMI category than for any other reason.

Enter the HB (that's head bitch to those uninitiated in my acro-slang). She wants to know when he and Leslie are getting hitched. EXCUSE me? Umm… he's been married to ME for a YEAR plus now… he announced that little tidbit back at the beginning of the year, much to the displeasure of his record label. However, he felt he needed a real explanation for all the time he was about to (attempt to) take off. Blake glances at me, standing along the back wall, quickly and then reminds the little chit that he and Leslie had gone their separate ways nearly two years ago and that he had married ME. He then points me out, hiding in the back amongst the cookies (and how funny is THAT?). She turns, looks me up and down, finds me wanting and dismisses me completely. Turning back to Blake, she wants to know if he'd ever consider dating another musician like Leslie. I clear my throat, loudly, and get a LOOK from Blake. He's playing her game, but I've had it at this point.

Hello, I know I'm not as hot as or as young as Leslie, and I never will be. And yeah, I've wondered more than once why he chose ME, ME of all people, over her, but he DID. That's good enough. I do not need some biotch coming in and trying to usurp my position. I know, I know, I shouldn't let it bother me, after all, he IS coming home where? Here. Yeah. But still.

He managed to deflect her questions by asking her one about her, personally. And, well, like all self-absorbed crackpots, she took the bait and let loose with her life story. Niiiice Blake. He managed to get past her and her little group and get to the fun stuff – the trivia game and some other things his fan club president and I had come up with. Everything was fine, fine, fine until it was time for the party to disperse. Everyone managed to behave while he signed autographs and took pictures, even if a few did get a bit touchy feely (but then, he's got such a sweet ass, how could they resist?)… bugged me, but since no one was TOO invasive (no jewel grabbing at least), I didn't let it upset me. The real trial came as everyone was leaving.

I'd taken up a post near Rachel, the club President, talking while Blake hung out backstage, when the HB from earlier came and thought it was high time to confront me. Oh yes she did. And let me say this much – cow ought to be DAMN thankful that I left my piece at home (my real home, that is) or she'd have air conditioning in her skull right now. She had the nerve, the total NERVE, to get in my face and say, "I don't know how he thinks you're worth it, but you so don't measure up. He needs a real woman."

Oh. Hell. No.

Rachel gripped my forearm, knowing me and my temper. Just that simple touch kept me from decking her, however, it gave my mouth free reign. "Ya know, bitch. I guess you're right. If you find one, be sure to let Blake know, kay?"

I turned then, crossed the theater, and vaulted onto the low stage before I could smack her silly.

I've since discovered that, at Blake's request, Rachel has booted the bitch. *evil laughter* And even better? Rache had the idea before Blake even suggested it.

~Vindicated at Last, Ali


Redheaded Mama said...

You behaved nicely, my dear. I've very glad you didn't scratch her eyes out (though, it sounds very tempting).