American Idol – Part 3 (Audition Prep)

Ah, finally, what you’ve been waiting for. The sad fact is that I do not have any photos for this part of my American Idol journey, but I do have a good reason for it. The instructions given to us were quite vague as to whether or not we could bring cameras. It said they were okay, but quite possibly would be taken away at the gates, depending on the mood of the security people. Or something. As I love my camera, I elected to leave it in the car.

Anyway, I left my tale off on Friday night, where I tucked in for a good night sleep. Sleeping in on Saturday proved fruitless, as I woke up at 6:30 and missed the kids who usually wake me up around then. The fact that I was in a hotel room, far away, doing something totally for me and me alone made me feel like a selfish, horrible mom. Can all the moms around give me a knowing nod. I know, I know… it’s good for moms to do stuff like this, my kids won’t remember I was gone, blah blah blah. At the time, I felt bad and I felt alone and I felt stupid about it. Continue reading

American Idol – Part 2 (The Drive)

I dropped the kids off in the late morning and was on the road by noon, headed towards Boston. My hair was bright red and I felt super cool. Every time I stopped at a rest stop, I received one of two reactions–either I got hit on and/or checked out, or I was avoided. Old ladies avoided me. It meant I didn’t have to wait in line for the bathroom, ever.

The drive wasn’t that bad–I had hoped to make it up to Boston in the typical 7-8 hour time frame, go and get my wristband/admission ticket, and just go back and chill at the hotel. I had good music, my kids were in good hands, and my husband was gone with the National Guard, but all of his team was cheering me on from… wherever they were.

On the road

How cool do I look?

Once I realized the power my awesomely red hair had, I also realized that that combined with my incessant and sometimes wild dancing in the car made me totally irresistible. This guy kept looking at me:

It’s entirely possible that he was making fun of me the whole time that he was looking at me, but he also let me in front of him in traffic, saving me five minutes or so of trying to fight my way into the post-tollbooth crunch. So, whether it was lust or pity, I had no problems.

Some pictures of one of the bridges I went over (which, of course, I am now drawing a blank as to which one and too lazy to go look it up on Google). I love taking pictures of bridges.

Welcome to New York

I managed to time it just right to hit New York City at 5:00 on a Friday. As such, although the posted speed limit promised me this:

I was stuck driving at this speed instead:

However, going so slowly through New York made me realize something I don’t think I ever had before–or maybe I’ve just never taken 95 that far north. Anyway, all along 95 are enormous apartment complexes. Including right above it–there are what amount to bridges over 95 (or tunnels under the city?) that are home to hundreds of New Yorkers.
Apartment 2
Apartment 3
Apartment 4

All I could think of while I waited to keep driving through was that I totally could have called someone in that building earlier and asked how traffic was, and they could have looked out their window and said, “Oh! It’s not moving!”… and then gone back to cooking their dinner.

I finally made it through, and the rest of the drive up to Boston was uneventful. I got my ticket and wristband and went to the hotel, which was clearly waiting for me.
Good luck!

Thank you, Holiday Inn. I appreciated it!

I had some drama getting my room–Boston is one of those rare places that actually has smoking rooms, and somehow I managed to get one. I went up to the room, and the smell was so strong that I couldn’t possibly stay there for two days and retain any semblance of a singing voice. Although the front desk had originally assured me there were no other rooms, when I explained that if they couldn’t find me a non-smoking room, I was going to have to find another hotel, suddenly a room became available. I moved my stuff into the non-smoking room and was much happier.

much happier

American Idol – Part 1 (The Hair)

So, after too much time and much ado, after promises broken, after another busy season, after Lyme Disease and Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease, and during the middle of strep throat (or mono–we’ll see in a couple of days), after the bar exam, after Kullervo went to Annual Training and Puerto Rico, I am finally writing about American Idol auditions.

Part One revolves exclusively around my hair.  While I am no stranger to dying my hair–I’ve been doing it since about the 8th grade–I did something during those two weeks in June that I had never done before.  I bleached it.  Not all of it, but I bleached a noticeable portion of my hair. And, because I’m always thinking about my loyal readers (if there are any left), I took lots of pictures to share!

Awkward self-portrait as I prepared to dye

Awkward self-portrait as I prepared to dye

I carefully sectioned off the hair that I wanted to dye, and added the bleach… and waited. I did this during a naptime, so I also said some prayers that the kids wouldn’t wake up early during this part. (And later sent up praises for naptime.)

Funny faces with bleach

I’ll admit that I was a little worried that the $10 box of hair dye was going to make my hair fall out, but reasonably certain that my husband would love me regardless and my kids would only have a little less hair to pull. It might have been awkward during business meetings when I went back to work after my two weeks off (“where did your hair go?”… “Oh, that’s a sad, sad story of failed hopes and dreams and a bottle of blue bleach… no, there was no alcohol involved, why would you ask?”).

So, here I am as a blonde:
Hazel the Adorable and Katy the Blonde

Clearly a nice, even bleach job...

Clearly a nice, even bleach job...

It wasn’t the most professional looking job, but I was covering it up shortly.

Where did the blonde go?

Where did the blonde go?

And, finally… my American Idol look (at least for my hair), all finished:
Katy the Rock Star