How to Be an Anybody on a Red Carpet

If you need a reminder of where you’re at in the food chain, try attending a fancy award show like I did for work a few years ago at the Country Music Awards ceremony (we’re there again this year, too).

An anybody surrounded by major somebodies.

Here’s a little tutorial in being somebody vs. anybody…

If you’re somebody, you get dropped off at the red carpet in a tricked out Chevrolet sponsored event car.

Lady Antebellum, being chauffeured to the red carpet entrance.

If you’re anybody else, you get to park two miles away, fending off a Chatty Cathy parking attendant (who also happens to be from Iowa and wants to talk your face off about it) and make your grand entrance on foot.

Obviously everyone awaiting my arrival.

If you’re somebody, you wait for the photographers to shout your name before appearing on the carpet.

Begging for the celebs.

Shawn Johnson, the retired Olympic gold medalist and Dancing With the Stars alum being cat called from the peanut gallery.

If you’re anybody else, you hide in this hallway while the star you’re accompanying soaks up the flash bulbs.

Where the star wranglers hunker down during red carpet photo moments. This hallway is directly behind the “stand and pose” photo wall.

Being somebody, you don’t need any announcement when you appear on the red carpet. Photographers and fans just know you and shout your name accordingly.

Lisa Marie Presley (yes, that Presley) needs no introductions (and yes, I was dying as I was snapping this photo).

When you’re anybody, your name appears in marker on a clipboard that is held up for the photographers just before you turn the corner to be photographed, ensuring people know who the hell you are.

Courtesy applause for the anybodies, please.

When you’re somebody and you recently got caught stepping out on your high school sweetheart wife, you go to the awards show with her anyway (and they’re since divorced and he’s remarried, which sounds like a sad country love song, doesn’t it?).

Jason Aldean and his now very unforgiving ex.

If you’re anybody else and everyone knows you’re a cheat, you stay at home and watch the awards from your couch in your pajama pants you haven’t taken off for three days, a stale beer and yesterday’s pizza, feeling very remorseful.

My pussy caught in a blatant act of cheating and not giving a fuck.

When you’re somebody, you know you look good and work it all the way up and down the red carpet.

Lady Antebellum’s Hillary Scott strikes a pose in a form fitted dress.

Jake Owen pranced around in a leopard blazer that I wanted to rip off his shoulders and keep all to myself (therefore giving him a complex that I was stalking him because I literally took 12 pictures of him down the carpet due to his jacket).

When you’re anybody else, you blog about the perils of what to wear to work the award show.

Does this vest make me look like somebody or just anybody?!

When you’re somebody, you get interviewed live by TV stations.

Tim Allen being interviewed by Evan Farmer of CMT.

When you’re anybody else, you crouch down in the corner ninja-style, trying to stay out of the camera’s shot or you’ll be kicked off the carpet. The horror.

Hiiieeeee! Don’t mind me.
Just over here taking 4,098,461 photos and maxing my phone’s memory out.

If you’re somebody, you have no problems finding a plus one to be your date.

Lisa Marie Presley with her hipster hubs make one handsome couple.

When you’re anybody else, you have to hang with all of the other people who are working the show.

Workin’ it with men in uniform. Poor me.

When you’re somebody, you perform on the massive stage.

A CMA Award show stage.

When you’re anybody else, you’re perfectly fine asking a stranger to take your picture in front of it.

Anybody want to take my picture? Anyone? Hello?

When you’re somebody, your entourage follows you up on stage to get you gussied up before the live performance.

Hair, make up and wardrobe folks putting the final touches on Carrie Underwood before her performance.

If you’re anybody else,  you have to take pictures back stage to remember where the bathroom is located, so you can brush your hair and reapply lipstick.

Which way to the ladies?

When you’re somebody, you blow the roof off the joint, then head out to the after party.

Aided by the foggiest fog machine ever and blasting confetti, you would have thought it was New Year’s Eve during Carrie Underwood’s performance.

When you’re just anybody, you get to go and walk the empty red carpet before tearing it down.

Long walk to fame…and I finally arrived.

And then pose like just anybody else while no one calls your name.

**Insert crickets chirping here**

It’s rough trying to be anybody! Wish somebody would have told me.

CBXB

How to Be a Red Carpet Anybody

If you need a reminder of where you’re at on the food chain, try attending a fancy award show like I did for work last year.

Anybody gonna holla at me? ANYONE?

Since the CMA Awards are being held in Nashville tonight, here’s a little tutorial in being somebody vs. anybody…

If you’re somebody, you get dropped off at the red carpet in a tricked out Chevrolet sponsored event car.

Lady Antebellum, being chauffeured to the red carpet entrance.

If you’re anybody else, you get to park two miles away, fending off a Chatty Cathy parking attendant (who also happens to be from Iowa and wants to talk your face off about it) and make your grand entrance on foot.

Finally making it to the red carpet – what did I miss?

If you’re somebody, you wait for the photographers to shout your name before appearing on the carpet.

Begging for the celebs.

Shawn Johnson, the retired Olympic gold medalist and Dancing With the Stars alum being cat called from the peanut gallery.

If you’re anybody else, you hide in this hallway while the star you’re accompanying soaks up the flash bulbs.

Where the star wranglers hunker down during red carpet photo moments. This hallway is directly behind the “stand and pose” photo wall.

Being somebody, you don’t need any announcement when you appear on the red carpet. Photographers and fans just know you and shout your name accordingly.

Lisa Marie Presley (yes, that Presley) needs no introductions (and yes, I was dying as I was snapping this photo).

When you’re anybody, your name appears in marker on a clipboard that is held up for the photographers just before you turn the corner to be photographed, ensuring people know who the hell you are.

A smattering of applause and a lone flashbulb for the anybodies of the red carpet.

When you’re somebody and you’ve recently got caught stepping out on your wife, you go to the awards show with her anyway (and a year later, you’re going through a divorce).

Jason Aldean and his once forgiving, now not-so-much wife.

If you’re anybody else and everyone knows you’re a cheat, you stay at home and watch the awards from your couch in your pajama pants you haven’t taken off for three days, a stale beer and yesterday’s pizza, feeling remorseful. But this is country music and cheating is a staple. Which is why there are songs referencing tears in beers.

When you’re somebody, you know you look good and work it all the way up and down the red carpet.

Lady Antebellum’s Hillary Scott strikes a pose in a form-fitting dress.

Jake Owen pranced around in a leopard blazer that I wanted to rip off his shoulders and keep all to myself (therefore giving him a complex that I was stalking him because I literally took 12 pictures of him down the carpet due to his jacket).

I seriously couldn’t stop.

When you’re anybody else, you blog about the perils of what to wear to the award show.

Does this vest make me look like somebody? DOES IT?

When you’re somebody, you get interviewed live by TV stations.

Tim Allen being interviewed by Evan Farmer of CMT.

When you’re anybody else, you crouch down in the corner ninja-style, trying to stay out of the camera’s shot or you’ll be kicked off the carpet. The horror.

The on my knees in the corner view.

If you’re somebody, you have no problems finding a plus one to be your date.

Lisa Marie Presley with her hipster hubs make one handsome couple.

When you’re anybody else, you have to hang with all of the other people who are working the show.

Plus one-less and workin’ it with hot men in uniforms. Poor me.

When you’re somebody, you perform on the massive stage.

2012 CMA Award show stage.

When you’re anybody else, you’re perfectly fine asking a stranger to take your picture (no shame…I have no shame) in front of it.

Anybody want to take my picture?

When you’re somebody, your entourage follows you up on stage to get you gussied up before the live performance.

Hair, make up and wardrobe folks putting the final touches on Carrie Underwood before her performance.

If you’re anybody else,  you have to take pictures back stage to remember where the bathroom is located, so you can brush your hair and reapply lipstick.

Which way to the ladies?

When you’re somebody, you blow the roof off the joint then head out to the after party.

Aided by the foggiest fog machine ever and blasting confetti, you would have thought it was New Year’s Eve during Carrie Underwood’s performance.

When you’re just anybody, you get to go and walk the empty red carpet before tearing it down.

Long walk to fame…

And then pose just like anybody else while no one calls your name.

No clipboard introduction necessary on the empty carpet.

Oh you need this side too? Here you go.

It’s rough trying to be anybody! Wish somebody would have told me.

CBXB

Weekend Winks – Bruno Mars Style

Bruno Mars was in Nashville this past weekend on his Moonshine Jungle tour and in celebration of her birthday, my mom I went to party down with the rest of the crooner’s 15,000 closest Southern friends.

Best kiss of Bruno’s life. Hands down.

A little pre-concert cocktailing at my mini-manse kicked our evening off on the right high-heeled foot.

Birthday Girl worked it!

On the way to the show, we stopping at my neighborhood liquor store (in which case, I’m pretty sure every customer in the store thought I was a hooker, based on the looks I received for my gaudy outfit), for some smuggled concert liquor concessions that I’m able to stuff in my bra with no problems (a small chest comes in handy at times like these!).

Now ya see it…

Now ya don’t!

After the bra stuffing incident, we (well, mostly me) primped before making our grand entrance onto the arena property.

Thank God for clean car windows.

We followed the beacon to the Bridgestone Arena (who knows where we’d end up without a landmark to follow?!) on a beautiful Nashville night.

We followed the light…

And of course had to have our photo snapped 400 more times (due to my insistance).

Ready for the Moonshine Jungle!

Once we purchased our sodas in the arena, I headed to the bathroom stall (Gross? YES. Cost effective? Absolutely.) to mix cocktails with my booblegged liquor.

What more did you expect from this classy lady?!

I was also able to smuggle in my mom’s fave drink in my purse (maybe I should stop blogging about it so every venue in Nashville doesn’t start full body frisking me when I come within 15 feet of their establishments).

Don’t tell Carrie Underwood that I was in a bathroom stall with her husband (even if he was only on a cup).

While waiting on Mr. Mars to take the stage, I was completely jealous of his gold, shiny, sequined palm trees!

I feel like I need this as wallpaper in my mini manse. Agree?

Trying to avoid the awkward situation where a mother behind us asked that the ladies in our row “stop dancing like strippers” in front of her 12-year-old son (although Bruno Mars does cocaine, sings about sex in about 80% of his songs and uses the F word and M’fer like it’s going out of style and humps the stage with his pelvis, you’re going to get pissed about how we’re dancing?), we held a photo shoot to keep me from getting into a brawl.

Hurry the hell up, Bruno!

When the star hit the stage, all I could do was shake it (probably not as gracefully as a stripper) for two hours straight.  I got a side ache from boogying in one spot (and I’ve run a marathon without a side ache…think that means I need to up my jogging game?) while trying to avoid pissing off the couple behind me who stood as still as trees the entire show.

Lights! Back up band that danced like the Temptations! Bruno Mars in a leopard shirt! I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

While sitting to let the crowd clear after the show, I thought we had a medical emergency on our hands, as a gal in our row took a plunge over the seats in front of us.

Wonder what she’s doing?

And still doing?

She was just trying to get a piece of the Bruno Mars glitter magic that was released at the end of the concert. Of course, it didn’t make any sense to her to walk to the now-golden stairs two feet to her left to pick up one piece from the 5.7 billion that covered the surface. Easier to go over the chair. Much easier.

Chair diving for the shiny. So worth it.

Outside, I was wooed by two cute fellas who unlike Bruno, brought flowers to me (and the 10,000 other females who were at the show). I had to leave them broken-hearted because I just couldn’t choose between the two!

It’s been so long since anyone brought me flowers, I couldn’t make my mind up…so I left with Mom.

Keeping up with the theme of the evening, we tried to muscle our way through the entire concert crowd to get into the downtown moonshine bar.

A Moonshine Jungle tour begs for us to drink moonshine, right?

At a quick glance, we were going to be asses to elbows inside the joint and I couldn’t bear to stand on my feet for much longer after my fabulous shoe selection for the evening. It seems that jumping, twirling and step touching did a number on my tootsies in these babies…

How do strippers do it?

Although my feet were a tad sore, I wasn’t about to unload my sparkly kicks, like this person did when his flip-flops apparently gave his feet something to scream about.

Abandoned and alone on the Nashville street.

As we were leaving the downtown area, I asked a young dude and a girl (who I thought was his girlfriend) if he could take our picture he said, “I can do a hell of a lot more than that to you.” Um, OK nevermind. I’m going to ask this Grandpa who probably has never used a digital camera in his life but won’t give me genital warts just by looking at me for three seconds, thanks.

Successful birthday celebration!

We woke up the next morning to find my mom had acquired a concert injury.  While walking down the steps in the dark arena, she felt like she was going to fall. Not wanting to drop her precious cocktail, she held onto the railing with just her pinky. She says it still feels really good.

Sacrificing a finger for a party. Smart choice!

And while I thought I was exhausted, parked on my couch for the entire Sunday, Teddy could hardly keep his eyes open after we kept him up until 3am with all of our concert stories (that he really, really cared about hearing).

Who the F is Bruno Mars? I don’t care. I need my beauty sleep.

With weary feet, a side ache still thumping two days later and a shriveled up liver, I’m trudging through this Monday like a champ.

And it was so worth it.

Cheers!

CBXB

Weekend Winks

A fun Friday night out to see the Nashville Predators take on the Vancouver Canuks.

First Mate and I hanging at the arena bar (I mean, where else would we meet?)!

To keep the cost of drinks down (arena prices are $7 for a single, $14 for a double and you all know what I’d order), I stash my own flask and become a very germaphobe bar tender in a bathroom stall.

Up to no good.

The toilet paper dispenser acts as my bar, I stuff the lid in my mouth (to keep germs at bay) and pour out half of the Sprite (it was a vodka night) in the toilet (being sure to keep the cup three feet above the seat).

Classy bathroom bar with an even classier bar tender.

I have a thing for mascots. I mean a crazy lady thing (which won’t come as a surprise when I tell you that the Preds mascot is a giant cat).  Here’s my boyfriend, Gnash making his appearance, repelling down from the ceiling.

He’s such a stud.

With great seats and a vodka filled cup, fun times were had although the Preds lost 1-0.

Even Carrie Underwood’s pretty husband (yes, he’s pretty, not handsome) couldn’t help the team score.

But Mike Fisher was fun to oogle over anyhow.

Being the fashion diva I think I am, what about this ensemble…backpack, knee-length (which look good on…who?) Mom shorts and sneakers with no socks?

Enough to drive me to drink! So I did.

Upon leaving the game and heading toward the honky tonks, this gentleman kindly reminded the crowd that if you don’t live a clean life, you’ll go to hell.

In case you were wondering…

Where do you think I’ll go?

Heaven or Hell?

Once again at Robert’s Western World (for the second time in two days…think the band members are pretty sure I’m stalking them), The Don Kelley Band   played my favorite dancing song – only this time I didn’t have to dance alone (read all about it here).

The fabulous Joe Fick singing “Bird is the Word.”

This time around, my dancing skills scored me a crisp $100 bill.

OK, really someone’s friend wanted to buy us a round but gave me the dough, so I pretended it was a tip. (A girl can dream about her dancing skills!)

The overload of cocktail money caused me to pull double duty on the drinks.

Art of the double fist.

Due to the amounts of liquor consumed, Friday was a late night and Teddy was a little bitch on Saturday because I’d interrupted his beauty sleep at 2am.

Not a happy camper.

As I was gearing up for my Saturday evening events, I chose some new kicks to debut.  Only thing is they creaked with every single step I took.

Is there a WD-40 for boots?

A quick happy hour with gal pals to commence my Saturday festivities.

Another round please!

Seeing my very favorite bar tender – who pours Skinny Pirates perfectly (he’s actually the one who nailed the concoction all those years ago at Dalts. Sigh).

Think he makes house calls?

Making the switch from my Captain to red wine, as I celebrated a birthday at a swanky little Nashville Italian joint.

When in Rome….

On Sunday, I excitedly anticipated the Academy Awards while Teddy was still in recovery from my late weekend nights.

My Oscar evening included champagne and pretty pink (what else would you expect?) frosted cupcakes.

Fancy cupcake for the fancy evening.

Teddy got a second wind and insisted on sitting in the front row for the actual awards broadcast.

My Oscar view.

And I’m happily starting Monday off in this fabulous, bedazzled skull studded tank my gal Tina gifted me this weekend (think she knows me very well?).

Kickin’ ass and takin’ names today!

Here’s hoping you do the same.

CBXB

How to Be Somebody

If you need a reminder of where you’re at on the food chain, try attending a fancy award show like I did for work last week.  Here’s a little tutorial in being somebody vs. anybody…

If you’re somebody, you get dropped off at the red carpet in a tricked out Chevrolet sponsored event car.

Lady Antebellum, being chauffeured to the red carpet entrance.

If you’re anybody else, you get to park two miles away, fending off a Chatty Cathy parking attendant (who also happens to be from Iowa and wants to talk your face off about it) and make your grand entrance on foot.

Finally making it to the red carpet – what did I miss?

If you’re somebody, you wait for the photographers to shout your name before appearing on the carpet.

Begging for the celebs.

Shawn Johnson, the retired Olympic gold medalist and Dancing With the Stars alum being cat called from the peanut gallery.

If you’re anybody else, you hide in this hallway while the star you’re accompanying soaks up the flash bulbs.

Where the star wranglers hunker down during red carpet photo moments. This hallway is directly behind the “stand and pose” photo wall.

Being somebody, you don’t need any announcement when you appear on the red carpet. Photographers and fans just know you and shout your name accordingly.

Lisa Marie Presley (yes, that Presley) needs no introductions (and yes, I was dying as I was snapping this photo).

When you’re anybody, your name appears in marker on a clipboard that is held up for the photographers just before you turn the corner to be photographed, ensuring people know who the hell you are.

Courtesy applause for the anybodies, please.

When you’re somebody and you’ve recently got caught stepping out on your wife, you go to the awards show with her anyway.

Jason Aldean and his very forgiving wife.

If you’re anybody else and everyone knows you’re a cheat, you stay at home and watch the awards from your couch in your pajama pants you haven’t taken off for three days, a stale beer and yesterday’s pizza, feeling very remorseful.

When you’re somebody, you know you look good and work it all the way up and down the red carpet.

Lady Antebellum’s Hillary Scott strikes a pose in a form fitted dress.

Shawn Johnson showcasing her guns (much admired by me) in a racer back gown.

Jake Owen pranced around in a leopard blazer that I wanted to rip off his shoulders and keep all to myself (therefore giving him a complex that I was stalking him because I literally took 12 pictures of him down the carpet due to his jacket).

When you’re anybody else, you blog about the perils of what to wear to work the award show.

Does this vest make me look like somebody or just anybody?!

When you’re somebody, you get interviewed live by TV stations.

Tim Allen being interviewed by Evan Farmer of CMT.

When you’re anybody else, you crouch down in the corner ninja-style, trying to stay out of the camera’s shot or you’ll be kicked off the carpet. The horror.

If you’re somebody, you have no problems finding a plus one to be your date.

Lisa Marie Presley with her hipster hubs make one handsome couple.

When you’re anybody else, you have to hang with all of the other people who are working the show.

Workin’ it with men in uniform. Poor me.

When you’re somebody, you perform on the massive stage.

2012 CMA Award show stage.

When you’re anybody else, you’re perfectly fine asking a stranger to take your picture in front of it.

Anybody want to take my picture?

When you’re somebody, your entourage follows you up on stage to get you gussied up before the live performance.

Hair, make up and wardrobe folks putting the final touches on Carrie Underwood before her performance.

If you’re anybody else,  you have to take pictures back stage to remember where the bathroom is located, so you can brush your hair and reapply lipstick.

Which way to the ladies?

When you’re somebody, you blow the roof off the joint, then head out to the after party.

Aided by the foggiest fog machine ever and blasting confetti, you would have thought it was New Year’s Eve during Carrie Underwood’s performance.

When you’re just anybody, you get to go and walk the empty red carpet before tearing it down.

Long walk to fame…

And then pose just like anybody else while no one calls your name.

Anybody gonna holla at me? Anybody?

It’s rough trying to be anybody! Wish somebody would have told me.

CBXB