Watching Fleetwood Mac and crying like a baby

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Mike and I went to the Fleetwood Mac concert at the Tacoma Dome. I bought these tickets back in April as a birthday present for Mike, but really a gift for myself. I have loved Fleetwood Mac since ever since. I was about 15 when their live performance aired on MTV and that was enough for me to forever sing the songs about heartache, love and things about romance I hadn’t experienced as a teenager on a small tropical island.  When I heard that Christine McVie was rejoining the group on tour, I had to buy the tickets.  As a gift!  (for meee).

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The crowd was definitely much more different than the Beyonce + Jay-Z concert.  People wore flat, sensible shoes.  Flannel was worn as shirts and not tied around the waists of bare midriffed-teens.  Plus, all the women looked like they could be called, “Deborah, from accounting.”  They own things like wine charms for your ladies night wine parties where you watch Magic Mike DVD (director’s cut) and talk about how miserable your ex-boyfriends look on facebook.  My kind of people!

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There was also a lot of denim.  So. much. denim.  Denim on denim, stacks on stacks.

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Before the show, Mike and I walked around the floor and walked up to the edge of the stage. I saw Mick Fleetwood’s golden drum set.

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Stevie Nicks’ bead-adorned mic stand and Christine McVie’s keyboards.

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People looked at us in the way you do when you see a younger woman with an older man, especially when I grab onto him and yell, “THANKS BIG POPPA!”

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I didn’t take a lot of pics or video during the show.  I wasn’t close enough for a good shot, plus, I was too busy crying.  I didn’t realize that I would be overcome with so much emotion, especially since I thought my jaded heart only pumped black tar sludge.  But when Christine McVie sang the first song, the tears and the shoulder-shaking tears began. I looked at Mike and yelled, “I love her so much!”

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The rest of the night was amazing. Lindsey Buckingham killed it on the guitar. I didn’t know one person was capable of playing so profoundly well. I did get a clip of Stevie Nicks singing one of my favorites:

There was one girl a few rows down that tried to start fights with people.  She would turn around, tell people to stand up, then pull out her phone and keep the flash on while she recorded her dumb friends in a lot of tongue-out poses.  Some people tried to ask her nicely not to use the flash since it was dark and the bright light was distracting.  Then she said something something, efff you, which of course is the brightest way to get people on your side.  Swear at them!  

During the concert she kept looking back at people in a what are you going to do now? stance. She got up at one point and motioned for her friend to use her butt as bongos.  It was easy enough to ignore her because she was far away and the music was loud enough to drown her out. She was angry, she needed attention. I wanted to say, It’s okay girl. You need an afternoon with the Rumors album and a Lisa Frank journal. It worked for me.

An afternoon at the Seattle Aquarium

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Mike’s sister was in town for the day, so we headed to the Seattle Aquarium. I haven’t been here since college, when Mike and I were first dating and I was taking a biology class that required going to the aquarium on our own to explore. It’s changed a lot since then, or maybe now that I have two children, I can’t simply stroll into any tourist location and enjoy the exhibits at a leisurely pace. Now instead of asking sweetly, “Do you want to go to a bar, honey?” it’s a full-belly yell: “PLEASE DO NOT TAP ON THE GLASS! THIS IS THEIR HOME!”

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The best part was finally getting a family photo, maybe we’re not looking at the camera and maybe we’re more into chokeholds, but here we are.

How was your weekend?

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