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Had to put this out there . . .
Dec. 15th, 2006 10:52 pmYes, I will be doing a rundown of my adventures in L. A., but for tonight, I have to get this down for your amusement.
John Taylor was doing a signing at Neiman Marcus as a promo for the guitar and bass thingies that he designed for Juicy. I figured, wotthehell, it's practically on the way home, I can meet some Duranies, sure, I'll go.
Granted, it took me about half an hour just to successfully turn onto Peachtree Street, but I went anyway. I nabbed some dinner at Panera, then made my way to Neiman Marcus.
The line was surprisingly short and extremely cliquish. I made several stabs at conversation that died rapidly. One girl recognized me, told me her screenname (Riosomethingorother) and mentioned she hadn't seen me since Jacksonville. The faltering recognition must have shown on my face, because she pretty much tuned me out after that exchange.
The long and short of it? Some Neiman Marcus person came up with a clipboard and informed us that we all needed have some some Juicy item for the man to sign or we wouldn't be allowed in the line. The gal behind me had paid $45 for a bottle of lotion or something. I didn't even want his autograph--I just wanted to shake the man's hand, wish him well and maybe click a picture with my cell phone. But, no, that wasn't allowed.
So I bailed. I waved goodbye to the Duranies (the look of openmouthed shock on Riowassername's face was priceless, truly) and sauntered back to my car.
Here's the thing--I could, honestly, have whipped out my credit card and purchased one of those groovy bass guitars, which would not only have assured me a place in line, but put me at the very head of it, apparently. But, obviously, I didn't. Though I find that sometimes the very thought of what you could do can be just as satisfying as the actual doing of it.
I hope they had a wonderful time. Honestly. Me, I went home, grabbed my High Museum membership card, and took MARTA down to the High for Friday Jazz. I soaked up lots of art, grooved on some pretty good music and went home quite satisfied.
Think I'll curl up with a cheesetastic book and call it a night.
Today I took pleasure in art and jazz at the High Museum.
Today I learned Dunwoody Station to Arts Center Station takes 15-20 minutes on the train.
John Taylor was doing a signing at Neiman Marcus as a promo for the guitar and bass thingies that he designed for Juicy. I figured, wotthehell, it's practically on the way home, I can meet some Duranies, sure, I'll go.
Granted, it took me about half an hour just to successfully turn onto Peachtree Street, but I went anyway. I nabbed some dinner at Panera, then made my way to Neiman Marcus.
The line was surprisingly short and extremely cliquish. I made several stabs at conversation that died rapidly. One girl recognized me, told me her screenname (Riosomethingorother) and mentioned she hadn't seen me since Jacksonville. The faltering recognition must have shown on my face, because she pretty much tuned me out after that exchange.
The long and short of it? Some Neiman Marcus person came up with a clipboard and informed us that we all needed have some some Juicy item for the man to sign or we wouldn't be allowed in the line. The gal behind me had paid $45 for a bottle of lotion or something. I didn't even want his autograph--I just wanted to shake the man's hand, wish him well and maybe click a picture with my cell phone. But, no, that wasn't allowed.
So I bailed. I waved goodbye to the Duranies (the look of openmouthed shock on Riowassername's face was priceless, truly) and sauntered back to my car.
Here's the thing--I could, honestly, have whipped out my credit card and purchased one of those groovy bass guitars, which would not only have assured me a place in line, but put me at the very head of it, apparently. But, obviously, I didn't. Though I find that sometimes the very thought of what you could do can be just as satisfying as the actual doing of it.
I hope they had a wonderful time. Honestly. Me, I went home, grabbed my High Museum membership card, and took MARTA down to the High for Friday Jazz. I soaked up lots of art, grooved on some pretty good music and went home quite satisfied.
Think I'll curl up with a cheesetastic book and call it a night.
Today I took pleasure in art and jazz at the High Museum.
Today I learned Dunwoody Station to Arts Center Station takes 15-20 minutes on the train.
