You Can Still Be A Sexy, Crazy Bitch In Comfy Clothes - Buckcherry at Xfinity Live! Philadelphia

Last night I was sitting on the couch in yoga pants and a hoodie watching Happy Feet with my nephew and scrolling through my Twitter feed.  I happened to come across a tweet from Buckcherry and learned that they were playing a free show at Xfinity Live! Philadelphia.  "What?!  How did I not know about this?!"  Jay was on his way over because the plan was to veg out and watch scary movies.  That changed real fast.  I shot him a text - "So Buckcherry is playing at Xfinity - let's go!"  "Ok."  I love that he goes with my flow.

So I threw on long johns under a pair of jeans, (the show was outside,) my Doc Martens, and ran a brush through my hair.  There was no time to slut it up, being that we live about a half an hour from the sports complex, the gate had already opened, and it was cold outside.  We missed Lit, but made it well before Buckcherry went on.

We got there around 9:30, and on top of free admission it was free parking.  Score!  Was I thankful for the long johns I had put on?  Yes.  It was quite humorous watching all those women freezing their asses off and having trouble walking around on the brick/concrete ground.  For as crowded as it was, it was pretty easy to get to the bar as well.  Another score.  And I really can't say I minded spending over $6 for a Coors Light when I didn't have to pay an outrageous amount of money to park or see one of my favorite bands up close and personal.
The show itself was great - Buckcherry rocked the house.  I expected no less, dancing around in my Docs, the previous night's makeup, and showing my support for Concord high school's football team with my hoodie.  I think the last time I saw these guys was back in 2010 at the Wells Fargo Center.

It just goes to show you never when your night will take a turn for the awesome.  I was planning on laying on the couch in sweats while watching movies.  I ended up seeing one of my favorite bands, for free, and getting the chance to say hey to Josh Todd and Stevie Decanay.  Pretty fucking cool.  They love their fans and know how to make us all feel sexy, even in comfy clothes.

You never forget the first rockstar to reach down your shirt and cop a feel.

Guitarist and photographer extraordinaire, Stevie Decanay.

Holy Shit We're In the Second Row

My second 311 show of the summer was at the PNC Bank Arts Center in Holmdel, New Jersey, about two hours from my house and 45 minutes from one of my best friends who lives in Clifton.  Since VIP packages were not offered for the Philly show, I went scored them for this one and paid out my ass for Platinum VIP tickets for her and I.  Included was a meet & greet, pictures, front row seating and merchandise.
It was the day before my 29th birthday, so I considered this show a continuation of my birthday celebrations.

Jenny and I in the parking lot.

I got to Jenny's early in the afternoon and we headed down to the pavilion to get in some tailgating before the show.  (I was surprised to learn that Jenny really isn't into tailgating, but the both of us had a lot on our minds at the time so it wasn't a big deal.)  It was also one of the hottest days of the year, and I was so paranoid about giving sweaty hugs to all of the band members.

I kept getting more and more nervous as it came time for us to meet the band.  This was the first time I was coming face to face with the people who create the music that has been the soundtrack to my life for over ten years.  I was afraid I would start gushing and not be able to control it, I was afraid of making a fool of myself, even a little concerned that I might throw up.

"Holy shit I can't believe we're about to meet this band!"
"I know, right?"
"I think I'm going to puke."
Jenny looks at me incredulously.
"No, you're not.  But there is a trash can over there."

Tim Mahoney signing Jenny's poster.

The entire time we're in line I'm reminding myself to breathe.  And I'm sweating.  Like a whore in church.  We're all sweating.  I could feel it dripping down my back and between my boobs.  Nice, I'm going to meet 311 and drops of my sweat will be smearing the sharpie ink as they sign my poster.

I had managed to collect myself enough to not act like a fool once I got up to the table.  Surprisingly, it didn't all pass by in one big blur.  I walked up to the table, put my poster down, and just grinned at Tim Mahoney.  He grinned back, but I couldn't find my voice.  How do you tell someone who has no idea you even exist that you adore them without sounding like a weirdo?  Luckily he broke the silence that was about to become awkward.
"Hey!  I'm Tim!"
He holds out his hand and I take it, shaking hands with my second rock legend in less than a week.
"I...I know who you are!  I...I'm Dana!"
As he signed my poster, I thanked him for all he does as a musician and that the band's music has been such a huge part of my life.  He looked up and saw how overcome with emotion I was, then promptly stood up and gave me a huge hug.

Nick, Chad, SA and Pnut.

Nick Hexum was sitting next to Tim, and I told him the same thing, that I can't believe I got the opportunity to stand there and tell the band I love how much their music means to me.
"You guys are what make it possible for us."
Chad Sexton was sitting next to Nick, and I went through the same spiel, thanking him for doing what he does, and grinning like a fool while he signed my poster.
"Your friend said you're going to throw up.  Please don't."
"I think I'll be okay, I've made it this far."
"Ok, good."
By the time I got to SA I was on the verge of squealing like a fangirl.  My face hurt from grinning so much.  I did manage to tell him that my brother and I see them in Philly every summer to celebrate our birthdays.
"That's so cool, when is your birthday?"
"It's...um...Oh my God!  It's tomorrow!"
Yes, I had actually forgotten that my birthday was the next day.  The guys all wished me a happy birthday and SA wrote it on my poster.
I turned to Pnut and he gave me a big, goofy grin.  We shook hands and as he added his signature to my poster I gushed on, again, thanking him for all the band does, the music, the shows, the all-around positivity that they promote.  That's when I started getting emotional and could feel tears welling up in my eyes.  I actually just stopped talking mid sentence, Pnut abruptly stood up and gave me a huge hug.

We then took our places in line again to have our pictures taken with the band.  Since Jenny and I were the second to last for the signing, we were second in line for pictures.  Much to my delight, Tim latched onto me as soon as we walked over.  (I have a special place in my heart for that man.)

Nick, Jenny, Chad, SA, me, Pnut and Tim.

What I call the blooper photo.

As you can tell, I was in Heaven.  I mean, all you can see is my teeth.  It was by far one of the best nights of my life.

Did Dewey Beach Save My Sanity?

Out of the past six nights, only one has been spent in my own bed.  It was a whirlwind of a week and I'm exhausted.

I took off for the beach Monday evening on a whim and ended up staying until Wednesday.  I met up with a girl I've been corresponding with via Twitter and other various blog sites.  She is one awesome, lovely woman and we had a great time.  I was honored to show her the ins and outs of Dewey Beach, complete with Devils and Grapefruit Crushes.

While I was down there, a few significant things happened that I never expected.

The first was that I realized my bank account had been overdrawn, twice.  I'm broke.  Again.  I was in a bad place about two years ago and I swore to myself it would never happen, but alas, due to my confusion about the changes the PA Department of Unemployment Compensation has made, my claim was all fucked up this summer.  (I claim unemployment during the summer months because, well, I don't work as much as I do fall, winter, and spring.)  When things like this happen, it messes with my head, bad.  I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do.

On Tuesday my aunt and I were sitting on the beach when I notice a man & his daughter stop not too far from our beach chairs, drop their towels & boogie boards then take off for the ocean.  This man was the Dave Grohl.  I didn't believe my eyes at first, but once I heard him speak, I knew it was definitely him.  I had the opportunity to shake the man's hand and thank him for all that he has done for rock & roll, and he couldn't have been nicer.

Wednesday I was sitting on the beach again, this time with my uncle, reading Traveling With Pomegranates.  As I sat there observing the goings-on around me, reading, smoking cigarettes, watching the ocean and bracing myself against the chilly breeze, it dawned on me - I want to be a writer.  I want to write alongside my photography.  How to go about it is another story, (I mean, yes, this blog is a start,) but I since I made the acclamation to myself, I now know I want to make it a reality.
Once the clouds became ominous and the lifeguards starting calling people out of the water, we packed it up and headed back to the beach house.  When the rain started I decided I might as well make the trek home, so I drove through the storm back to Wilmington, tears spilling out of my eyes here and there wondering what the hell I'm going to do about my bills, worrying whether or not I had enough gas in the car to get me home and if my cell phone would be shut off any time soon.
That night was the only one spent in my own bed, and the stories from the second half of my week are pending my next post.  Stay tuned.