Just a quick reminder that I’m doing a live chat today, Thursday, at 3pm EST, at the Readergirlz site on MySpace. I have never done a live chat before, and am just hoping I can type fast and not look like too much of a dork.
In related news, Barry Manilow is TONIGHT, and I am entirely too excited. The first concert I went to was back in 1984 (!): I saw Billy Idol at Cameron Indoor Stadium on the Duke Campus. Since then, I’ve been to a few more, mainly in high school, when I saw Pink Floyd TWICE as well as Yes and Sting. The last show I went to was Dar Williams a couple of years ago. So, it’s been awhile. I know people, like my friend Cameron, who live and breathe music and go see live show as often as their time and budget allows. Clearly, I am not that kind of person. But come tomorrow, I will be a person who has seen Barry live TWICE. Step back!
Finally, the other day the phone rang, and it was a number I didn’t recognize. I answered anyway. “Is Colin there?” this kid’s voice asked. I said he had the wrong number. He said, “No, I don’t. This is Travis. Is Colin there?” I said, “No, sorry, there’s no one here by that name.” He said, “Yes, there is, this is Travis.” He was really determined that I was wrong, which made me wonder what kind of person thinks someone wouldn’t know who, exactly, was living in their house. Still, I was trying to be nice, so I told him our number and asked him which one he was trying to call. At which point, he hung up on me. Which annoyed me more than him thinking I was an idiot. So much so that I almost called him back—had the number on the Caller ID!—to ask if Shirley was there, and then argue the point when he said no. But because I am thirty-seven, and not seven, I did not.
Although it was hard to resist. Truly.