Beginnings and Endings

This weekend was full of beginnings and endings... It was a good weekend and a rather bad one at the same time. Well, just one bad event...that will eventually be good. Mixtures of emotions are the worst!!

Sunday was the beginning of a new life for me and Easter and the ending of our every day companionship. At 1pm, Toby took Easter to her new home. I thought I would hyperventalate to death. It was hard - the hardest thing I have ever done. I had already cried the whole morning; every time I looked at her. Knowing that she would go to a new home and wonder where the hell she was and when the hell her mama was going to come to get her??? And I cried knowing full well I would not be coming to get her. THAT is what breaks my heart - thinking about what she is thinking. At 1pm, I put her in her crate and just went and quaranteened myself in the bedroom for awhile until I got control. Toby took her to the sweet lady's house who answered my ad - she only lives about 4 miles from us - and he was upset too. He said "I can learn to deal with the doo-doo. Let's call her and tell her no that we have changed our minds." And while I wanted to say OK; I knew in my heart that this was the right thing to do. For the baby, mostly. And also for me and Toby. I know he would try and deal with the doo-doo (ha!) for awhile but eventually it would get back to being an issue of tension in our house. It's not fair to him. If the situation was reversed and he kept choosing one of his animals over our marriage and over my feelings (which is what I was doing...) I would be upset too. Plus, this woman who took Easter is the ANSWER TO MY PRAYERS. When am I going to find that again? I'm not. So I had to let her go to her new home.

Toby said that she had already set up a place for Easter in her own wing of the house until she got used to the other animals and to her new Mom...then she could venture out as soon as she was ready. Toby said she was so excited for Easter to be there and loved on her right away. He said that she reminded him of me; and that Easter will probably be more spoiled with her than she ever was with me! That makes me feel better..........but I'm still going to cry and mourn the loss of my best friend...even though I may go visit in a month or so...It's time to move on and grow up and get our house ready for the baby.

Now, who wants to take Katie????

On Saturday, I witnessed another ending. The ending of my former Rock n' Roll self. I went to see Motley Crue and it was an experience. Maybe it's because I'm old. Or maybe it's because I'm pregnant. Or maybe it's because I WASN'T drunk. Maybe it's because I'm not into naked girls climbing ladders and swinging from chains by their teeth. But that show left a lot to be desired!! Vince sounded like a dying chicken, Mick looked like a skeleton Cousin It, Tommy hid behind the drums the entire time and didn't do anything cool, and Nikki still looked HOT. :) I could ramble about it....but I'll just post the review that was in the Richmond Times Dispatch. I will tell you that I almost punched about 15 drunk people in the face when they tried to crowd into the TWO empty seats next to me and Toby. The seats WE had paid $75 frigging dollars for - that is for EACH seat - ewww, that pains me to say that. And about 2/3 of the way through the show, I excused myself, bought a big glass of water, and sat outside the coliseum on a stone bench until the show was over. I needed fresh air and SPACE.

My ears are still ringing today. And the right one is THROBBING.

From now on, the only rock n' rolling I'll be doing is to a CD in my car...or at an MCS show!! (Or if Sebastian Bach ever comes to Richmond...) But that's IT!!

From the Richmond Times Dispatch:
It's not high art, but it is fun. A big, loud, grimy show that makes you feel as if you need a shower by the fourth song.
Call it skank rock - and it's Motley Crue's specialty.
The'80s institution, reunited last year with original members Vince Neil, Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars and Tommy Lee, pulled out every cliché in the How to Rawk 101 handbook last night at the Richmond Coliseum, keeping the crowd of about 5,500 blissfully entranced.
So what if the sound was terrible, especially for the opening "Shout at the Devil," a pyro-soaked pool of muck? And so what if Neil's voice - never as strong as Motley's songs call for, anyway - is shot after 15 months of touring?
These fans don't care. They were thrilled to have water spat on them by bassist Sixx, his face painted with a black eye mask and ebony hair spiked to the ceiling.
They obediently whoo-hoo'd when Neil offered such studious banter as, "Riiiiichmond!! You're some crazy [fill in the blankers]!!" and shrieked appreciatively when half-naked nymphs writhed against a metal ladder during "10 Seconds to Love."
It's supposed to be stupid escapism - one reason the band has lasted more than 20 years (albeit with plenty of breakups and jail sentences). Think of Motley as KISS, except with actual musical chops.
Lee's double bass drum assault on "Red Hot" exhibited why he is one of the best rock drummers still playing, and it was his dense backbone on "Looks That Kill" and "Livewire" that distracted from Neil's breathless phrasing.
Too bad his drum solo - usually a highlight of any Crue show - was such a disappointment. His flying between junkyard drum kits looked cool for a minute, but the elementary beats he whacked out hardly demonstrated his capabilities.
The scarily frail Mars, his face obscured by a black top hat and his moves more Disney animatronics than guitar-god cool, can still play despite his corpselike appearance. His gritty blues-laden solo on a muscular "Wild Side" was impressively complex, and it's his riff that makes "Girls, Girls, Girls" such a guilty pleasure.
For that strip-club staple, the boys rolled out on revving choppers, while more airborne bimbos wriggled above them and a naughty video displayed more porn action than Cinemax at 3 a.m.
Still, there is a teeny bit more to these raucous troublemakers than an affinity for lesbians and music played at ear-bleeding volume. When the band revealed its softer side on the mellow acoustic singalong "Don't Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)" and the definitive power ballad, "Home Sweet Home," it reminded listeners who could still hear that these guys have always had a knack for tight, hummable melodies.
But that comparatively gentle side quickly got kicked into the gutter for "Dr. Feelgood," another fat, nasty groove that proved that sometimes, big, loud, grimy rock is just fine.