Alcohol, tattoos and Kid Rock can always turn things around, right?
I was pretty sure my weekend was in the pisser with a flat tire, a nasty cold and a forgotten concert outfit at home Friday morning.
But fabulous friends whiplashed me back into my maniacal state about my hot date with Kid Rock and his 15,000 closest Nashville fans.
Pumped about my 10th (yes 10th!) row seats, I had to run in and check them out in between Jim Beam cocktails.
But how in the world was I going to be the apple of Kid Rock’s eye? By inking myself up, of course.
Did I mention that this was a henna tattoo?
But I did feel like quite the bad ass with my kickin’ eagle tattoo.
After all of my classy arm primping, I still didn’t catch Mr. Rock’s attention.
But I scored something even better than a glimpse from Kid … maneuvering up to the front row…..!
Where I proceeded to lose my f’ing mind, driver’s license and check card (come to find out as I was trying to get into a bar after the show – but don’t worry a nice doorman let me in to party even though I don’t look a day over 20) as I raised the roof (like the whitest chick in the world) with my favorite rocker.
As usual, Teddy sensed my pain on Saturday and selfishly insisted I spend the rest of the weekend with him.
After a bag full of favorite food from my own personal Cheers (it’s heaven – they deliver!), Ted and I mustered enough energy to sit up on the couch.
Even though our necks still hurt from headbanging…
And while I still require a hand on my chin to alleviate my sore neck, I’m tattoo free and fully re-hydrated today.
Until next weekend…