My big, dusty blue tub of Journey Junk...

Hey Stephen, what's happenin' in your neck of the woods today? Anything exciting? Or are you enjoying a lazy fall rainy day like I am here in Pittsburgh? Hey, at least it's not SNOW yet. I'm really not a big fan of snow, because I was born and raised in Michigan. I've had enough of that white stuff to last me a few lifetimes thankyouverymuch.

Today I was going through some items in the basement when I found my big dusty blue tub of Journey junk, and for the first time in many years, I opened it. Whatdayaknow, PANDORA came running out of it, jumped in my face and gave me a big wet sloppy kiss right on the mouth! I've been enjoying the reminiscent tour through my mid-20's when I was really caught up in all that stuff. I showed some items to my mother-in-law (She's 89), and it was like "trying to tell a stranger about rock and roll." I tried to put things into context for her...."Remember how when you were young, you were enjoying the music of Frank Sinatra?" She said, "No, he wasn't really my type of music at all." I said, "Oh...ok...um, Tony Bennett?" Her eyes lit up and she said, "Ahhhh, yes, he was good." I said, "Now multiply that enjoyment 10-fold, and you've got some idea of how gaga I was over Journey in my mid-20's." (She seemed to get it then).

Anyway, so I opened up Pandora's box of goodies, and found all kinds of stuff that I had not even remembered owning...it's like I brushed off the cobwebs of my passion, and it grabbed me by the hair and planted a wet tongue-kiss down my throat. YAY! That just can't happen enough really, ya know? (The passion I once had, AND the hair pulling wet kiss). I mean, sometimes life is just a drag, and lately mine has been rather boring. (Hence, this silly blog). But, having opened up this "chock-fulla-fun-kit-number-seven," (aka: Foghorn Leghorn), my day has had a bright warm fuzzy all around it now. Thank you Stephen, for brightening my day.

I don't really know why the hell I'm suddenly all into writing to you about all this stuff, I mean I know it's silly and probably even a waste of time for anyone who reads it. But hey, I've got a life of a boring housewife now, I don't work in a professional office like I used to, I don't wear high heels and get manicures and wear makeup and do my hair like I used to...I don't know what happens after a person gets married, it's like the FRUMPIFIED MONSTER comes out of nowhere and makes a woman frumpy from head to toe, slowly sucking the life out of her, taking the makeup and hair styles and manicures with it. I never wanted to be frumpy, but here I am. Kinda sad really. I used to have CHUTZPAH coming out of my ears. I used to be really full of vitality, all fiery and passionate about several things...one of those things was this music and this band, and this awesome singing man named Steve.

In case you thought my last posting was full of hot air, I have found some pictures that I will add here, from my extensive Journey/Steve Perry scrapbook. Trouble is, I can't figure out how the heck to do that right now. I will keep trying. I have a photo of Neal with the group of girls that he asked back to his hotel for "pizza," and a photo of myself with those same girls, along with Steve Augeri, and a photo of myself with Neal and Jon...I like to call that one "Look at me! I'm in a Journey sammich"...and I have many other photos of your solo band, with Lincoln and Moyes, autographs, backstage passes, all sorts of stuff. So, I'm not just talkin' outta my ass here. Really I'm not.

Usually (on my other blog), there is a photo upload button at the top of the screen that lets me add photos, but on this blog for some reason, it doesn't appear. I keep trying to copy and paste but it just turns into a link. GRRR. Computers and I often have disagreements like this. But I will keep trying. Seriously, I think you'll get a chuckle outta these pics. I know I still do.

Ah well, let's change the subject. Have you ever explored Pittsburgh at all? Well, having lived in Michigan and then 10 years in Washington DC, I can tell you that it's a "happy medium" between the two places. Michigan is the pit of despair, and you couldn't pay me enough to live there ever again. Washington DC, however, is a cesspool of negativity that drags you down into the quagmire of politics and stress. I used to call it "a small town big city where everybody knows everybody and they all play nice but really hate each other." That pretty much sums it up. In New York City, for example, that's more of a "big city small town where everybody ignores everybody else and nobody gives a crap about you at all." I don't know which one is worse.

I can tell you, though, that Pittsburgh would be a nothing town if it didn't have sports and colleges. That's pretty much IT around here. I like to watch the Steelers football games sometimes, don't get me wrong, they really are amazing...but, if you're not a big HUGE sports fan, you're really NOT accepted as a resident of Pittsburgh. It's like some kind of unwritten law that you HAVE to be a Steelers fan, otherwise you're ostracized and ridiculed. Seriously. I was just at a craft store earlier today (yes, I like to make crafts, I'm too creative for my own damned good sometimes), and the woman who waited on me asked if I was a Steelers fan. I mean, how many clerks in department stores actually ASK YOU THAT KIND OF THING? I just looked at her blankly and said, "Uhh, well, not really..." and her face scowled at me, as she said, "Oh." Then she added, "We'll soon be getting in a lot of Steelers Christmas stuff, that's why I asked." I said, "Oh." And that was the end of the conversation.

One time I went into a shop on the Strip District area to buy some red tights...it was getting close to Valentines Day and I wanted to dress up sexy for my man...I'm just weird that way... and the chick behind THAT counter said, "YOU'RE NOT A CARDINALS FAN ARE YOU?! WHY THE RED?!" (because if you're not wearing BLACK AND GOLD, you're looked at as a tourist), and I just looked at her confused, saying, "No...I am not a Cardinals fan..." and she breathed a sigh of relief as she rang them up. It was almost like she wasn't going to sell them to me if I had said yes!! How bizarre is THAT?! These people are super FREAKS about sports. It's very weird. I mean, I guess everybody's got their one thing that they get all passionate about in life, but WOW...I also had a temp job when I first moved here, where the woman showed me my cubicle and then said, "We all wear our jerseys on Fridays." I said, "I don't have a jersey," to which I heard a very loud audible GASP from everyone around the place, as if I had just spoken blasphemy in a church. So I wore my fiance's jersey on Friday, and the people in the office smiled and kept calling me "Ben," which confused the hell outta me. Who the hell was "Ben?" Well, I was wearing a Roethelesberger jersey, you see, but I didn't even know who he WAS.

So, that's how weird Pittsburgh is. Without the sports or the colleges, this would be a friggin' ghost town. Sure, they have 2 rivers that become one big one, but there are no BEACHES!! What the hell kind of place is THAT?! I mean, I grew up in MICHIGAN around WATER all my life, ya know? So it really is limited here. I am not exactly thrilled, nor am I all that impressed. But, my hubby's company headquarters is located here, so I'm kinda stuck.

Washington DC is super weird, too, but in a very cut-throat sort of way, it's really dog-eat-dog there, people come AFTER you to get you into trouble on purpose, they try to get you fired, they pass the buck, they are ruthless and mean...and I confess, in that dog-eat-dog sort of world, I was wearing milkbone underwear. I was like this tiny Michigan guppy, swimming with sharks. They chewed me up and spit me out...but it took 'em 10 years to do it! I wasn't easily gotten rid of, I stood on my own and fought my way through it as best as I could, having never been in such an environment before. It was hard though. I eventually got tired of fighting my way through every day. It was just too stressful. I'm sure I shaved off about a decade of my life living there.

And God forbid, if you're NOT a Redwings hockey fan, don't go to Michigan to try a new life. If you even so much as MENTION another hockey team---and run for your LIFE if you mention the Pittsburgh Penguins---you'll have a gang of rednecks on your ass so fast, your head will spin. Seriously, it's the craziest thing. This Stanley Cup thing is a big deal I guess, and they have both won it from each other a couple times, so it's quite an intense rivalry I am told. But Michigan is full of unemployed redneck people, most of whom drink to excess and smoke, (which is NOT my thing at all), and MOST of whom don't have an ounce of creativity in their blood. It was rather stifling, to live there. There are no jobs, people are depressed, it's always cold, etc.

Oh, and the men are ALL married to their trucks...you know, those "big-ass" redneck trucks, that you need a ladder to get into...(truly they are just an overcompensation for a tiny penis). Oh yes, I've dated a guy like that. I'd say, "Let's go see a movie," and he'd say, "Too expensive...let's stay home and watch t.v." But the next day he'd go out to an automotive store and buy $500 worth of parts and gadgets for his truck! WTF?! I finally told him that I hoped his truck kept him good and warm at night, and I walked out the door. I just couldn't relate to people in Michigan...or DC...and frankly, I'm not really too enthused about getting to know too many Pittsburgh people either. I guess you could say I'm rather anti-social.

Ya know WHY I am anti-social Stephen? Maybe for the same reason YOU seem to be a bit like that too...I spent six years of my life surrounded by 5,000 Museum visitors every DAY, breathing in my face, germs everywhere, all asking stupid questions, but mostly asking me where the friggin' BATHROOMS were. I would get so damned sick and tired of that question, I would just flippantly mess with people, "We don't have any here, sorry, they didn't add any bathrooms in the building at all. My kidneys are failing, but I've got great medical benefits." Stuff like that. I became quite a smart ass because people annoyed me so much. Seriously, when you have a gang of people all standing around you all day, every day, coughing and sneezing all over you, some getting sick when they saw the more graphic images in the exhibition, some tripping over a cobblestone floor and having bloody noses, etc., you tend to want to go far, far away into another galaxy and just be alone. So, that's what I tend to do. I'm more of a loner really. I like to fade into oblivion by listening to music that transports me away from the world.

Like right now, I've got the house mostly to myself (the 24 year old stepson is in his man-cave in the basement), and the mother-in-law is at her physical therapy appointment for 2 hours, so I've got the Soundscape channel on t.v., listening to David Hoffman, "Pastures of Plenty" from his Calmness of Spirit album from 2009. I've never heard of him, but it's new agey, and relaxing so I really don't care. I just enjoy my alone-time.

I guess I should tell you the place where I worked. It was the Holocaust Museum. I know, I know, wow what a depressing place to work. Well, I definitely developed a very dark sense of humor, that's for sure. I had to watch the Three Stooges when I got home, just to laugh a little. I love Harpo...I'd absolutely have a BLAST going around cutting people's ties off just for the hell of it...I just think that's a hoot! But I digress.

Yes, I worked there for six years, and loved it. I've studied that subject since the age of 10. I had to do a book report in 5th grade so I found The Diary of Anne Frank, and from then on, I was obsessed by the word "WHY." I devoured every book I could read about it, trying to figure out HOW, and WHY. To this day, 32 years later, I still don't know the answer to WHY. I don't know if anyone will truly understand why it happened...I mean sure, we have the factual historical "why's" and "wherefores," but the HUMAN REASON of "why" is still a mystery to me.

But that's another topic, that I could talk your ear off about. Thrilling, eh? I know you're looking forward to THAT!! (NOT). Ah well, maybe that's why I don't reach out very often to make a lot of friends...they think I'm too morbid. hehehehe And hey, that keeps them from coughing and sneezing on me, so I'm fine with that. I'm a germaphobe like you wouldn't believe.

Well, I will keep trying to upload some photos of my Journey junk and scrapbook of all things happily Journey-ish and Steve Perry-ish but until then, I will bid thee a fond adieu.

Love, Rebecca (your favorite weird morbid germaphobic anti-social smart ass)