Runner Susan went to the Coldplay concert last night (her first since she honored Barry Manilow with her long Madonna curls and legwarmers in the late 80s) and stayed out far too late. A combination of beer (“it can’t get me drunk”), late hours (not her usual 8:30 bedtime), and too much pot (from proximity rather than smoking…the closest to being Dooce that Susan gets) resulted in an exhausted Susan. So she’s making me (Kate) write her blog entry for her.
Even in her exhausted state, she made me promise to mention the following: constipation, VO2 hell, and PMS. I’m throwing in lesbian panty parties and bendy men. That should make for some interesting web searches.
Okay, having fulfilled Susan’s requirements, let’s talk about Coldplay. The concert was amazing. Susan wants me to mention that she ran 8 miles before the concert (nobody that demanding could be sick…I’m just saying). We were seated around the finest of DFW’s yuppies. In fact, the African American usher in our section made a comment that “he’d never seen so many white people together except at a lynching.” This is also the same usher who WINKED every time he passed the pot smoking frat boys next to us. Despite altitude sickness from having the highest seats in the house (literally…even our chairs were high from the pot), the concert rocked. Chris Martin, from this day forth to be known as Bendy Boy, put on a great concert. He ran, he danced, he skipped like a girl, he played with yellow ballons, he sang on his back…not bad for a man who’s only a quarter of an inch tall.
And despite his pasty white boy Afro, the dude was hot. Susan gets kudos for not killing us on the way out of the concert, despite the fact that we couldn’t stop giggling at the leprachaun driving the car beside us.
On top of all that, she also managed to get up to go to V02 training at 4:30, when normal people are still sleeping. She got told off for being two minutes late, had her Nano taken away from her so she’d pay attention, and was told she needed a breathmint. In spite of all this (or rather, because of this), Susan loves her new trainer. I’m getting great enjoyment out of the fact that Susan’s got a training Nazi of her own now…mwa hahaha! Hello retribution!