I've always loved that expression for sore feet.

Anyway, it applies today. "Woof!" says my left foot. "Arooof!" says my right foot. This is starting to remind me of Sandra Boyton's Doggies.

"Arf Arf Arf!"

I went to see Jason Mraz last night, and stood through the show (which was fantastic!) and by the end, my feet were throbbing uncomfortably. I hobbled back to the car, and drove home. I got in at 1:30 am, which is waaaay past my bedtime on a school night, and despite sleeping like a log (and waking up with last night's eyeliner giving me a stunning resemblance to Alice Cooper) my feet still haven't recovered.

Obviously, the answer here is for me to pull out my box of bon-bons and commence with the ass-sitting, soap-opera watching and bon-bon eating we stay-at-home-moms are known for. Alas, we seem to be fresh out of treats. Perhaps I will stoop to putting left-over halloween jimmies on my toast. But the feet-up channel surfing is going to have to wait, I fear.

The concert was supposed to be an excuse for my sister, brother and I (and my bro's girlfriend) to hang out. But my sister is in Europe right now, and my brother broke up with his girlfriend, so I just went with my brother. Can I tell you how gleeful I was to be carded and get a big old "over 21" stamp on my hand from a surly, sunflower seed chomping security person? I know everyone was carded, but I'm pretending it's because I am so young-looking.

The Fillmore is a weird venue, where you stand on the dance floor, and perhaps dance, or mosh, depending on the band. Or you just stand, and maybe twitch occasionally. There seems to be a rule that if you are over 6', you will stand in front of me.

My rule is that if you are blocking my view, I will totally poke you in the back and ask if I can stand in front of you because I am so little/young/cute. Worked like 4 times, netting me an unobstructed view of the show. Sorry, tall people! You shouldn't have to move, just because I am short. But dude, there should be a tall people section and a short people section. It's just logical.

I feel tired today, but if there is one thing that motherhood prepares you for, it is functioning on a few hours of sleep. The unusual part of this tiredness is I asked for it, and I'm totally not complaining (husband, are you listening?) because I got to go play out in the real world, boss around some tall people, see Robin Williams in the balcony, and see some great performances.

I'm a lucky dog. Even if my dogs are barking.