Originally posted by ~LadyLemon~:
I hear a lot that "those guys are old" shit too. Really pisses me off!!
*One of my roommates thought Bono was gay.
*My mom says "Bone-O" to piss me off.
*Mom also wonders why I feel the need to see so many of their shows
*Mom's boyfriend calls me a U2 groupie (funny)
Lady Lemon, you reminded me of what my mom put me through in Dublin this summer:
My mom had been hearing for days about what I wanted to do when we got to Dublin (we were on a cruise of the British Isles and Dublin was one of the last stops). I wanted to go to the Clarence Hotel and take pictures of it. I also wanted to go inside and at least take a look around. So, there's my mom, trailing after me, practically muttering to herself about how preposterous this whole "U2" thing is. After getting lost several times, and getting directions with the "she wants to go to the hotel to see U2" comment thrown out at the poor Irish guy who felt sorry for the "lost Americans", we finally found the hotel.
I practically was jumping with glee because as we approached it, we crossed the river Liffey and it was RIGHT THERE. Big as day. I had my camera glued to my face and was snapping away.
Mom: you know, don't you think you're a bit too old for this U2 fascination? (I'm 28.)
Moonie: Mom, it's not a fascination.
Mom: Yes it is. You're a groupie. You're too old to be a groupie.
Moonie: Mom [exasperated sigh], I'm not a GROUPIE! I just happen to think their music is really good <and Larry's really HOT!>.
Mom: Mmm mmm.
I *hate* when my mom does that. It's the "conversation is over, and I still think you're insane" response.
About ten minutes later, as we're walking through the Clarence Hotel, I could feel my mom's impressed with what she sees. She waits patiently (yeah, right, more like tapping her foot) for me to take a look at the circular bar (I really would have LOVED to have a Guiness there, but NOOOO...) and take in the ambience of the place. Everything in the Clarence Hotel was simple: simple lines, simple decorations, very tasteful.
As we walk out of the door and down the street, my mom declares loudly: "Well, THAT wasn't very impressive. You'd think for a hotel that's supposed to be owned by FAMOUS people, it be something to look at."
There I stopped, in the middle of the Irish sidewalk, gaping at her. Wha??? I just seethed to myself all the way back to the stores. She went back to the boat, and I settled my upsetness by shopping.
The last day of our stay in Europe, as we're waiting in line at a grocery store in Gatwick, England, the lady at the checkout asked how we enjoyed our stay. My mother loves to talk to strangers - especially strangers from a different country. Of course, she just HAD to mention that we went to Dublin and that I just HAD to visit some hotel that U2 owned. I felt like I was thirteen years old again. I stood there, embarrassed while the poor lady at the checkout counter looked at me with sympathy, as if to say, "I'm so sorry I asked." The checkout lady wasn't the only one. The poor airline attendant at the airport asked how our stay was. There's my mom, going on and on about how wonderful the cruise was and how we went to Dublin. "Oh? Dublin?" he asks, being polite. I'm sure after her resonse, he was wishing he didn't. My mother, in all her glory, ROLLS her eyes at the guy and says, "oh, yes, *she* loves U2 and we just *had* to see the hotel U2 owns."
GAAA! My mother doesn't understand! I really don't think anyone understands, other than all of you. ::sniff::
Moonie
------------------
If you ask me, I think it's all about drums.
*************************
Tonight the moon has drawn its curtains
It's a private show no one else going to know
I'm wanting
(If You Wear That Velvet Dress)
*************************
Hit Gurl
