After my radio show this morning, I walked out of the studio with my co-host and buddy Colleen to find Rick Springfield standing in the waiting area with his publicist. He was very nice and very weathered, with more eyeliner than most women wear. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
I hate to disappoint those of you who are genuine fans (and after posting the photo on Facebook, I realize there are a lot of you!)…but I know very little about this guy. I can, however, hum along to “Jesse’s Girl.”
Rick was in town to promote his new book. I’m pretty sure I was the highlight of his day since I… a) know virtually nothing about him and b) surely smelled like preschooler puke. Last night, on the way to a birthday dinner with my family, my two-year-old threw up all over himself and my car. While the second grader screamed in disgust. I did get to attend my birthday dinner while my husband drove the puke-covered toddler home and tried to clean up the car (which qualifies as superstar behavior in my book). But when I got into the car this morning, the lingering stench nearly made me lose my breakfast. So gross! I drove to the radio station with the windows down, hoping to air out the vehicle. It didn’t work. Fast forward a couple of hours and there I am, snuggling up to Rick Springfield and smelling like vomit.
Just another day in the life of Liv…
