Isn't it funny?

I sent around an email on Tuesday, alerting my team that, "As of Thursday, 12 noon EDT, I will be off phone, offline, off radar as I will be stalking myself some Norwegian musicians. I will return to the office on Monday. I will return to Earth sometime next month."

And so I was rightfully surprised when my BB rang today and showed a Boston office number. There were two possibilities. CBL or awesome new hire (ANH). I took my chances. It turned out great.

ANH apologized right left and center for calling me. But there was a bit of a debaucle and she was concerned about how to handle it. And, although, yes I am technically of radar, I wasn't at all troubled about talking her through it. I told her in unmistakable terms, that it was fine that she called me, she could free to call me again if she needed to, that she was handling it correctly and that IT WAS ALL GOOD.

I felt great after the phonecall. The crisis was averted, she was comfortable again and all was even more right with the world. (Yes, still on cloud one hundred and nine from last night!)

I even admitted to her that I was still lounging in bed in my hotel room. And she had words of wisdom to offer me: "This weekend you should live for the night and not for the day." Man, I love her!

That being said, if the phonecall HAD been from CBL, I think I would have ripped her hair out from the roots and made her eat it.

Isn't it funny how different people and different approaches can affect your behavior in such different ways?

Manhattan Skyline

It's always darkest before the dawn, right? Happy to say - dawn is upon us. And then some!!

My friend observed late last night that, "you okay? your voice sounds a bit rough..." Well, yeah! I've been screaming like a sixteen year old for three hours!

Yesterday was Day One of the two day A-ha extravaganza!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I queued up around 3:30 for a doors opening at 7. I met amazing peeps and had loads of fun. I became an instant hero because my ringtone is Take On Me. We shared stories, compared notes on favorite songs and albums, learned where we were all from and what brought us to the show, what we did for a living and what our pet peeves were. Instant bonding. (Which, of course, is different than instant bondage!)

Doors open, and I make a beeline for the merchandise table. $125 dollars later, I've got two shirts, a poster and a bag to show for it.

Ran into my friend from line and we devised a strategy. First night, front row against the rail, second level. From there, we could take in the entire show. She cried at her songs, I cried at mine. We both cried at the end, when the band stood together, arms around each other, and shouted GoodBye. Night two would be the chance to bum rush the stage, close enought to watch the sweat pour down their faces.

After the show, I waited - not exactly patiently - for the band to come out. One by one, they did. Mags. Pal. And then - finally - Morten.

I got all of their signatures. And when Morten came out, I got to look him in the eye and say, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

Because they've been the soundtrack to my life. Scoundrel Days came out when I was a teenager and needed to go in my room and be angry at my parents and shout loudly along with Cry Wolf. And Analogue came out when I was going through a rough break-up. And East of the Sun West of the Moon came out when I was trying to figure out who I was and what I believed in.

So I thanked him. And then, the most amazing thing happened. Morten Harkett, the only unblemished love of my life, looked ME in the eyes and said, "You're so very welcome."

It was only a moment to him. He probably forgot it the second after it was said. But it will remain with me forever. Because at that moment, I found a true glimpse into what made me ME.

I drove an hour into Manhattan to experience something important to me. I navigated my way from Jersey to the Lincoln Tunnel and then through the busy streets of New York City. I stood in line with strangers and wound up with friends. I found someone I totally connected with. I chatted with drunken fanboys. I got the signature of each member of a band I've loved forever. I walked to a luxurious hotel and from the downy comfort of my bed, I shared my exultation with friends across the country.

I am strong. And powerful. And passionate. And confident. And capable. And dedicated. And funny. And insightful. And likeable. And worthwhile.

I'd forgotten all of this.

It took a concert to remember.

Life is funny, ain't it?