Blog Archives

Would you like me to take your gum?

I have been too sentimental my last few blog posts. Getting back to random and funny parts of life.

My dating life…

Serious relationships are not my style at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I stop myself from enjoying the company of the opposite sex. And dating always has funny moments.

Back story…

El and I met while I was on vacation in Grand Rapids earlier this summer. We met in one of my favorite bars, The Meanwhile. He was hard not to notice. Very tall and handsome with his dark hair and piercing brown eyes.  He kept smiling and winking at me. He did this combo one last time as I walked out of the bar. I was smitten. I got a block away from the bar, and realized I was going to be bold. I told my friend that we were going back. I was going to talk to Tall and Handsome . She rolled her eyes at my grand plan, but agreed he was too hot to ignore. Making my way back into the bar, I sprinted up to him with my hand out to shake his, introducing myself. We chatted for few minutes and exchanged numbers. Feeling accomplished, I left the bar for the second time.


Ladies, that’s how it is done. You want to know someone and you want their number. Just go for it. 

After flirty texting and two dates, we had realistic expectations about our courtship. I was going back to Detroit and he lived in Grand Rapids. But, it didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy each other’s company when being in the same city. Physical attraction was too hard to ignore, too.

Two months, and countless text messages later…

El texted me to say he was coming to the D for the night. He and his buddy wanted to hit the casinos and wanted me to join. I was elated… a date with no expectations for a relationship. My style of a prince charming!

We had dinner and hit the casino. It started to get late, but El’s buddy didn’t want to leave the poker tables. So El and I left him behind and headed to hotel. Clearly, we wanted one on one time too.

Driving back to hotel, I pulled out gum. (You want fresh breath if you’re going to kiss your hot, out of town fling.)

Being polite I offered him gum too.  Not really thinking, I just handed him my pack of Trident White Duel Pack. I expected he would just take a piece and hand it back to me.

NOPE! This did not happen.

Instead, he took a piece of gum for his mouth, and then ripped the dual pack apart. He handed me half and placed the other half in the middle cubby of his Audi.

I was dumb founded. Mouth opened, I looked down at my pitiful half pack of gum and then at the other half siting in the middle cubby. El stole my tartar fighting gum. I didn’t know what to say…

33% more for you to share or steal...

33% more for you to share or steal…

We made our way back to his hotel. I didn’t want to ruin the awesome evening by pointing out that he had stole my gum so I brushed it off. We finished out our evening.

The next morning, we said our see-you-soons and he drove back to Grand Rapids.

I can’t shake the thought that El is a gum snatcher. Like at least, he could’ve asked or offered to get me a pack gum when he saw me next. Any type of gesture would have been polite.

Ladies, beware you never know where a gum snatcher could be lurking. Keep your purses closed and keep an emergency gum pack for safe keeping.

Keep it secret, keep it safe.


No one mourns the WICKED. And by WICKED, I mean, douchebags checking their phones during the theater.

I tend to start all my thoughts with the word “so.”

So, this month, one of my favorite musicals of all time was in town.

Wicked (musical)

Wicked (musical) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

CoSi and FunSized and I are all music freaks, so as soon as we found out about, CoSi was iMessaging us that we needed to go. We bought tickets, we planned, and last Saturday, off we went.

FunSized, CoSi, and yours truly.

FunSized, CoSi, and yours truly.

I, of course, cried.

When For Good is performed, I get all these mad flashbacks to my freshman year of college when 202 and I sang it for the Broadway Revue, and it’s just such a good song. Then, of course Defying Gravity is pretty much the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen happen on a stage and I DARE YOU NOT TO LOVE THAT MOMENT.

Somehow in the mist of all this good witch/bad witch/emerald city action I came to my post for today.

Twatwaffles at the theater

In no particular order, this is my list of things that bother me at live theater events.

1. Jeans

Any live event obviously took a lot of time to prepare. I sing with the Symphony Chorus in Grand Rapids (we’re performing Missa Solemnis in two weeks, by the way), and we’ve been practicing this piece for months. And we’re the volunteer choir. That’s not even the amount of hours that the symphony, or the soloists, spend practicing. In a musical, they have to memorize their lines, their movements, their staging. All this work to prepare a show, for you, the theater goer, and you couldn’t even be bothered to dress nicely?!

We personally opted for dresses.

We personally opted for dresses.

2. LipSyncers

I’ll be the first to admit that yes, I love Wicked. Yes, I know the majority of the words. YesI have even performed songs from Wicked in my lifetime. However, does this mean I should be “performing” during the musical? No. Does this mean that the person in the row behind me who was SINGING ALONG THE ENTIRE SHOW pissed me off? Yes. You’re not on stage. You’re not as good as the people on stage. And, in case you missed the memo. You come to the theater to listen, asshat.

3. The latecomers

But L.A., you say. You’re ALWAYS FUCKING LATE. This is true. I’m late 95% of the time. However, this is the type of thing that I’m nearly always on time, or GASP early for. Nobody wants to be the douchecanoe making everyone in the row stand up during the show to get to their seat which of course is at the center of the row. Be on time. Be respectful to everyone else. Or at least wait until there is a pause in the show — like during applause or something. Does this mean you might have to wait for a good portion of time to sit down? Yes. You should’ve been on time.

4. Talkers

I brought a date to the symphony once last year, and partway through Brahms Symphony No. 2, he leaned over to me and whispered, “This might be a dumb question, but is this supposed to be happy or sad?” It was a small conversation about the music, and was actual proof that he was listening to the music, and not just along for the ride. However, I’ve been to concerts and shows, where people carry on full conversations. I remember once in particular, I went to my old high school’s musical, and the person behind me…

“Oh, there’s so-and-so.”


“Over there! He’s in blue!”

“That one?”

“The other blue! He’s dancing now! Look at him dancing, he must get that from you!”

For. Half. The. Show. Please. Shut. Up.

5. Leaving before curtain call.

The show ends.

You liked it.


WHY, praytell, are you rushing out of here then? Beating the rush out of the parking lot? Gotta buy that souvenir before there’s a line? That’s not a good reason. The show isn’t over. There are a long list of people that put a lot of effort into this work that deserve your attention. You gave it to them while they were performing, so give it to them now. Acknowledge that you appreciated what they did. Sit the fuck down. Or stand up, if it was that good, because standing ovations are acceptable too.


Do you agree? Do you have pet peeves when you go to the theater? Share in the comments! And if you live in the Grand Rapids area, seriously. Missa Solemnis. May 11 and 12. Check that shit out.


I like it best in small, dark places.

The very first concert I went to was in the 7th grade. It was K-Ci and Jojo, and we were young, and thus poor, and thus were sitting on the upper level–far, far away from them.

Lyrics for your hit song? More like LIES. WE WERE NOT CLOSE TO YOU AT ALL, ASSHOLES.

A typical conversation during this concert:

“Who’s the guy in the red pants?”

“I think it’s Jojo?”

“What’s Jojo look like?”

“I don’t know, the guy in the red pants?!”

“Maybe that’s K-Ci!”

“Are those REALLY their names?”

Needless to say, it wasn’t the best concert experience. But it was a learning experience. And I thus spent the next few years polishing my concert going skills.

I dropped a chunk of money to go to a Blink-182 concert in 9th grade, only to find out that when you’re small and near the big group of moshers, people try to lift you up and crowd surf you. You know who is afraid of crowd surfing? 9th grader L.A. and her baby blue Old Navy tech vest.

I found a niche in Christian rock in 10th and 11th grade. Everyone was religious and nice and the artists would autograph things and we’d all hold hands and sing. It was fun, for awhile, until the groups that I liked went mainstream and their ticket prices went up.

And then, one fateful day, after years of going to concerts, I saw a sign at a local music store. It was for a free acoustic set, and an autograph signing, and best of all, even though they did not advertise this on the sign, this happened:

L.A. sings with Matt Nathanson. Heart attacks ensue.

Clearly, this moment was the most awesome thing that I still remember even though I freaked out and suffered from a stroke of musical proportions. I mean, come on people. Matt Nathanson asked if he could hold my baby.

There would eventually be a conversation about this photo. Boo: “Mommy, who’s holding me?” Me: “Matt Nathanson.” Boo: “Matt Nathanson’s my Daddy?”

Since this sort of-concert-but mostly bonding with Matt Nathanson-acoustic set, I’ve seen Matt play three more times. Two of these were bigger concerts, where I bought t-shirts proclaiming my singularity and tweeted about their awesomeness to Mike Commodore, or rocked out to Jack’s Mannequin too.

Yesterday’s was a random stumble of a musical event. Derby caught me off guard with a tweet that she was going to go see Matt Nathanson. GoldDust and I decided at the last minute to head out there, and just hope that we made it in time. Did we? Sort of. Matt was performing in a bar in Royal Oak. It was a small place, clearly a random blip in his touring life, and the place was packed to the point that GoldDust and I were sitting on a window ledge to listen.

Is this a bad thing? Possibly. But I like Matt enough that I was okay with it. We were out of the heat and sweat of the indoors, we were still ridiculously close to what was happening, and I didn’t have to go all spaghetti arms like Johnny in Dirty Dancing to assert my personal space.

Honestly, I’ve realized that I like concerts better this way. I’ve been to so many small events where I walk out feeling like I got to pay more attention to the event that I would have if I’d paid $50 bucks to be rubbed up against by over eager females that yell and jump like cheerleaders high on music.

The last concert I went to was still good, but let’s think about this:

  • Beer was spilled on me.
  • People shoved.
  •  A girl in front of me had to lean back to yell that she loved the music. I kept gently pushing her forward, lest she tip over. She yelled at me.

Sure, this acoustic set was shorter than a regular concert would have been. But it was free. He still played for an hour, got more involved with the crowd, sounded great.


There isn’t one. I’d take a coffee shop over an arena concert any day. What do you think, readers?