Day 330: David Gray and Ed Hardy, In Concert

Day 330's thing I've never done before was to see singers David Gray and Ray Lamontagne in concert. The David Gray half of the show was the new thing, since I'd seen Ray before.

My friend Dayton organized this outing and advertised it as a girls night out. I was down, even though the only girl in the group that I knew was her.

We met at Dayton's, and then I drove all four of us over to Chastain Amphitheatre, one of my most favorite places to see live music in Atlanta. We exchanged pleasantries on the way over, and I got to know Sarah and Brooke, the other girls, all while keeping an eye out for a place to park. Because I had to work late, and didn't have a pass, I knew we'd be in a tight spot, but we'd circled the place a few times and were still coming up short.

I'd resolved to just find a place and walk, but clearly that was not going to sit right with the mom squad, and the next thing I know, all three of them are yelling from the back seat of the car that I needed to pull into the parking lot that we didn't have a pass for and try and pay off the attendant for parking.

"What? Really? Are you serious?," I asked, rapid-fire style, as if one of them had asked me to smoke crack in a dark alley way. I mean, I'll make irresponsible decisions all day long, but for some reason trying to scam the parking lot attendant was just a little too much for me.

Which is weird on many levels, but especially because I absolutely hate paying for parking. All the time. Always. I should've been happy about ripping them off.

By they time they could answer that yes, they were serious, I had already missed my opportunity to turn. I kept going, hopeful that we would find another option. We did not. So at their insistence, I turned around and headed back to the lot.

"Should I pull in?," I asked my car mates, my voice uncertain.

Dayton, sensing that I was chickening out, said, "Yes. I'll do it." She pulled a 20 dollar bill out of her purse. I was impressed. Becoming a mother of two had not impaired her ability to be a bad ass.

I don't know when I got so old and lame that paying off a parking attendant got to be, "bad ass," but here we were. Seriously, why am I this lame? It's parking.

Day 330's thing I've also never done before was to pay off a parking attendant, which in retrospect wasn't even that big of a deal because the concert had already started and I think he would've let us park there even if we weren't flashing cash in his face.

Just like nearly every concert I've ever attended at Chastain, there were a plethora attractive women and men. Always on the lookout for water man, I hesitated to get too excited -- I had to assume that any man at this concert was probably there with a girl. In most cases I was right.

Except of course for the one gem who sat in the empty seats next to me towards the end of the concert. He and his friends (another guy and girl) were engaging in a loud, drunk conversation beside me. I turned to my left to see three of the most unlikely David Gray concert-goers I'd ever seen. I stared at them for a solid 30 seconds before locking eyes with the girl in the group.
"Don't you want a fucking piece of this shit?," the girl said to me, motioning to the guy, who was wearing an Ed Hardy shirt. She was scary. He was terrible.

I don't speak, "freak," but I think she meant to ask me if I'd like to hang out/befriend/make out with her friend.

"Nah, I'm good," I laughed. A nice offer, but no.

I mean of all the eligible bachelors in the place, I'm not quite sure how this one finds the vacant seat next to me. It's truly remarkable. What vibe am I putting out?

The concert was highly entertaining and super laid back- both Ray Lamontagne (who we arrived late for but it was okay because I had already seen him before) and David Gray are so talented and their performances were effortless. This was a sit in your seat and tap your foot kind of concert, which was fine by me; and yes, I confess, there were times when we may have been those people using the concert as background music to our endless chatter. I was beside myself about Hollis' writing class and I wanted to tell Dayton all about it. And Sarah rattled off a list of single guys she was willing and ready to set me up with, so there was that.

When I was listening to the music, I realized I knew way more Ray Lamontagne songs then I did David Gray ones. And surprising to me, David Gray is one of those singers who is British, but whose accent is virtually unrecognizable when he sings. I was hoping that Ray and David might come out at the end of the evening and sing together, but no such luck.

But overall, a Monday night concert success.

Day 290: Too Much B.B. King

On Day 290, after getting my hair cut at the bank with my boyfriend/hairdresser Moses, I met my friend Dayton and her family at Shorty's Pizza on North Druid Hills in Atlanta as the thing I've never done before.

Shorty's is tucked in the back of a Toco Hills strip mall next to a health club (just so you can feel extra awesome about yourself while eating pizza), but don't let its location fool you. Shorty's is not a typical strip mall restaurant and had all the ambiance of a quaint college-town pizzeria.

Apparently trying steak on Day 289 had made me feel particularly adventurous, because despite feeling sick most of the day, I carefully perused their overwhelming menu, and ordered, of all things, the "B.B. King pizza."

I truly do not know what possessed me to order a pizza covered in shaved BBQ pork tenderloin, cilantro, goat cheese, “czr” salad on top.

I like all of those ingredients, separate from each other and not as pizza toppings, but there are so many questions I have about my choice now that the dining experience is over.

First of all, what do any of these ingredients have to do with B.B. King? Perhaps these are his favorite pizza toppings? Makes sense, he's a hefty dude. Secondly, what is a "czr" salad? Are you trying to say "Caesar?" Are you aware that "Caesar" only has three more letters than "czr" and is a hell of a lot clearer?

And lastly, why did I order this pizza? What was I trying to prove? It didn't taste bad, there was way too much going on. I looked longingly at Dayton's veggie pizza and wished I'd chosen differently.

Maybe too much of a good thing really is possible. Sorry, B.B. King. I love your music, but your pizza needs some work.

Day 88: Salad Shooter

Christmas Eve had finally arrived and because I couldn't go home to South Carolina until Christmas Day, my friend Dayton invited me over to her house for Christmas Eve dinner. I accepted her invitation, and since she was cooking dinner, I offered to bring a salad.

I made Day 88's thing I've never done before make salad dressing from scratch.

I know, enough with the food already. But it was Christmas, and I was burnt out with all of the parties and shopping. I needed a blog break. And I needed something to take to Dayton's, so salad dressing it was. This is one of the first blog food challenges that did not require me going to the store. I actually used what I already had in my cupboards and refrigerator.

Garlic, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, spicy mustard, some salt and sugar. Voila! I did it.

The salad and the dressing were a hit. Dayton and her family all raved about it, which made me feel good.

I have one more cooking challenge and then I'm done for a while. I promise. It's getting a little ridiculous with all of the food.

All of my blog chatter about not having knives to cut with scored me two in my stocking this Christmas, so Gift Gods if you're listening, I carried my beautiful salad, with my homemade dressing, over to Dayton's in a mixing bowl. Just saying...