There is No Title that Could Possibly Sum Up the Greatest Night of my Life

Saturday night, one of my wildest dreams came true.

Your eyes do not deceive you. That is New Kids on the Block, live in concert, blanketed in smoke machines and sexuality.

While most of the concert I looked like this:

the night did not start off as smoothly as I would have hoped. When our tickets got scanned at the door, we were informed that our section had been shut down and they were moving our seats from the front-row-of-the-upper-level-box-closest-to-the-stage, to the floor, three quarters of the way back from the stage. Meaning that instead of having no one blocking our view, we'd have three quarters of the floor space full of people blocking our view.

This is my "Oh hell no" face, and as you can see by the vomit face on the lady behind me, I wasn't the only one upset.

When calm rationalization didn't seem to effectively make my point to the lady who was giving us our "new and improved" seats, I felt my eyes welling up and a lump in my throat. We had purchased our tickets at the absolute first second they went on sale six months ago. We had strategically chosen the best seats at our price range, selected for our optimal viewing pleasure with no big heads in our way.

No way was I being bumped to the floor waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back from the stage without a fight.

I planted both hands firmly on the table in front of me, leaned forward and forcefully pleaded my case. Thank goodness Nicole was there to document the moment.

"Listen, listen lady!!We bought these tickets specially advanced because we used an American Express card! We picked the absolute best seats we could afford.
We bought these tickets six months ago.
(Sniffle sniffle, dramatic pause for effect)
But I haven't just been waiting six months to see New Kids on the Block.
I've been waiting my whole life."

I'd like to thank the Academy. Now bring on the New Kids!

This was my face when Jordan came on. He was hands down my first love. I had dangly earrings that said "I Heart Jordan", I had the Jordan doll (and Bone Senior had the Joey doll - don't believe her when she tells you she didn't love him), every single trading card in existence, and a semi-pornographic poster hanging above my bed of Jordan with his shirt half off and his braided rat tail over his shoulder. So hot.I think they had about fifteen costume changes. Here we see Sensitive All-White Sexy Men. Here we also see Jordan's pained expression as he hits those falsetto notes.
This picture is just for Bone Senior because deep down I know she still has love for Joey.
Every time his face was on the big screen or he did a solo, I turned to my friend and screamed, "He is SO CUTE!!!!" And PS - When did Donnie Wahlberg become sexy??And oh my gosh I just about peed myself again when Jordan came out and did this solo, as you can tell by the way I scream at the end. I'm such a little girl.
(Please forgive the poor audio)

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. The New Kids in all their old school glory, and me, screaming like a fourteen year old girl on a roller coaster. Please to enjoy.

I screamed myself hoarse and my ears were ringing for two days. Hands down the best concert I've ever been to, and totally worth the fifteen-year wait.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Last night I was staying overnight to babysit two little girls that I used to sit for a few years ago. They wanted to watch "Hairspray", and since I love me some Zac Effron, who am I to object. We were about halfway through the movie when the seven-year-old turns to me thoughtfully...

Girl: You know, I think this movie is teaching us a lesson.

Bone Junior: Yeah? What's that?

Girl: Fat people? They can DANCE!

And here I thought the lesson from "Hairspray" was that Zac Effron is a total dream boat.

In Which Cinemark Messes With the Wrong Bee-yatch

You know I love me some movies. I've blogged before about how particular I am about my seats, how I can't miss the previews, how a loud nose breather can ruin the movie for me, etc etc. I'm even particular about the theaters I go to - there's a certain one that I refuse to visit because of the terrible seats and leg room. In other words, I'm a total movie snob, and I'm OK with that.

Last Friday, Nicole and I decided to check out the grand opening of a new theater nearby. I'm a fan of Cinemark theaters, so I thought it would be a nice change of pace to drive the extra few miles and see how well New Theater measured up to Favorite Theater. Favorite Theater is less than two miles away, has covered parking, and is part of the mall. It was going to be tough for New Theater to woo me.

We bought our tickets and commented on the distractingly bright carpet, but otherwise it was so far so good. New Theater was stacking up well against Favorite Theater... digital marquis outside each theater, memory foam seats, "new smell" in the lobby. Nicole and I got our favorite seats - front row behind the railing, middle of the row. Ok, New Theater, maybe you have a chance.

Correction. New Theater had a chance until about halfway through the movie when an usher came in and stood directly in front of us. She said something to me, and being fully invested in the movie, since, you know, it was still playing and it was right in the middle, I didn't understand what she said and asked her to repeat herself.

Usher: Please take your feet off the railing.

Blink. Blink.

Bone Junior: What??

Usher: Please take your feet off the railing.

Bone Junior: Why??

Usher: It ruins the paint.

Oh hell no.

I slowly took my feet down and narrowed my eyes at the usher. At this point in time, I didn't fully comprehend what had happened, because I became too distracted by the usher as she made her way around the theater and asked everyone who had their feet up on the seat in front of them to put their feet down.

Yes, really. She went around to each and every person in that theater who had their feet up on the seat in front of them. If no one is sitting in front of you, when do you NOT have your feet up? I couldn't believe what was happening.

For the rest of the movie, I sat there and stewed about it. Never in my life have I been told to take my feet off the railing. What is the point of the railing if you can't put your feet up? Isn't that the whole reason for its existence - to create the highest level of comfort for me at the movies??

I couldn't even concentrate on the end of the movie. That snooty usher had managed to completely ruin the movie for me, and I planned on having words with the manager afterwards.

Which I did, and which did not have the desired effect that I had hoped. Said manager was a young guy with a fancy ear piece that he kept messing with as I was talking to him. Thank you, manager, I realize you're sooooo important at the MOVIE THEATER that you need an earpiece.

I asked if it was Cinemark's policy to have ushers come in and rudely interrupt the middle of the movie by disrupting patrons and telling them to take their feet off the railing and seats. He said, "Sometimes."

Sometimes? Sometimes they're anal about the paint on their railings? It's not like I was wearing baseball cleats or tap shoes and scraping away on their precious railing. Although next time I think I might do just that.

Extremely Important Manager was extremely unimpressed with my complaint, which I'm totally not used to. Just ask Yanaj - usually if I raise a fuss, I get what I want out of it. She's been aparty to many embarrassing episodes of my shaking fist that more often than not result in discounted meals, movie ticket rainchecks, or chocolate syrup in my water ice / custard combo for only twenty-five cents more instead of the advertised dollar more because there's no way I'm paying a dollar for a squiggly little ribbon of chocolate syrup!

My point being that Extremely Important Manager's Extreme Lack of Interest in my dissatisfaction was making me even more irritated. So I decided to pull my final card.

I looked him square in the eye, pointed my finger in his face, and said in a low, threatening voice, "I am never coming back to this theater again!" Then I turned on my heels and marched out of there with my head held high and said confidently to Nicole, "I think I made my point."

And just in case I didn't, I emailed the owner of the theater and gave him an earful about my Extreme Dissatisfaction with his New Theater. In my email, I told him that I was a writer for a "popular entertainment outlet", and that I was going to tell all my readers to never patron his theater.

So, readers of this "popular entertainment outlet", never go to the Cinemark University Mall in Orem Utah.

Now I think I've made my point.

He's Baaaaaaaaaaaack!

Who wore it better?

Ozzy or Samuel?

Tinkie Winkie or Samuel?

I think Samuel pulls it off splendidly. However, due to the fact that his head is made of plastic, Samuel could never pull off a classic face like this:
Can you tell how I feel about this guy? If my face doesn't make my feelings obvious, then the fact that I posted this video should leave no doubt in your mind:

No words necessary. Score one for the Bone.