February 6, 2013

Heeeeey, Joey, (well it’s better than Dear Diary…I’m still working on it…)

Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow I board a private jet (yeah I just typed that) and fly to some city in Connecticut. Tomorrow I begin a journey with no definite end in sight. Tomorrow it starts to become real that I am a kazillionaire. Holy shit. Tomorrow me, Daisy and Sammy will head for Mohegan Sun Casino and check in to a ridiculously expensive suite, and shop and gamble and drink. And then Friday we will try to schmooze our way into the Walmart show and then Saturday BAM, it begins.

To say I’m excited is probably as big of an understatement as ‘I’ve got money to spare.’ I can’t even put it into words. And I’m not going to try. Just know that it’s THAT damn exciting. I am all packed for two weeks until I get back home. It only took three suitcases. My name is Alina Sabbatini, and I’m a chronic overpacker. I’m hoping that when I come home I can get it down to one, well one-ish. Daisy also has her own bag, I’m pretty sure it’s smaller than Sammy’s, maybe. Ugh, I definitely need an overpackers anonymous.

Let me update you on our checklist. The following can be checked off (or at least start to)

Mission 8: Ride on a private jet.

Mission 9: Stay at the band hotel…in every city.

Mission 15: Try to catch concerts of other artists/bands on off days.

Mission 16: Find local charities worth donating to.

Mission 18: Remain anonymous…

Mission 21: Adopt a new look.

Mission 8: Booked and confirmed. For TOMORROW.

Mission 9: Mohegan won’t know what hit it.

Mission 15: Already started booking!!  Lady Gaga is scheduled for Montreal and Maroon 5 is scheduled for Toronto. This one is looking to be harder than I thought.

Mission 16: JBJ Soul Foundation/Soul Kitchen has a nice donation…more charities to come.

Mission 18: No one knows, WOO HOO me!!

Mission 21: Long brown curls are gone…shorter (shoulder length) red, Keratin straightened hair in. I also went shopping to update my wardrobe. Nearly gave Sammy a heart attack because she thought I was a burglar. Whoops.

Next time you hear from me I will be at least one show in!!

Lights Out! (I think that’s much catchier than whatever crap I used last time. That and it’s true because when I close you the lights are indeed out. Dear lord am I corny…)

Two Weeks From Today...

“What do you mean you quit,” Willie asked looking dumbfounded at Lena. “You can’t quit I won’t let you. You’re the best bartender I have.”

“Sorry Willie, but you can’t stop me from quitting,” Lena sighed sitting at the bar. “Like I told you, I just need to take a year off. I’ll be back at school next January.”

“Next January? This is January, that’s a whole year. You’re the reason my bar stays open. I’ll give you a raise, more hours, less hours, I’ll let you make the schedule,” Willie pleaded.

“As tempting as that is,” she laughed softly. “I can’t, there’s something I’ve gotta do. But I promise when I come back next year, I’ll work for free.”

“So you’re really giving me your two weeks notice,” he asked rubbing his head.

“Not exactly,” she said biting her lip.

“What do you mean not exactly? When is your last day?”

“Umm,” she said pulling out her phone. “January 31^st, next Thursday, a week from today.”

“Lena, you’re killing me. Slowly killing me. You’re not going down to one of the big chains are you,” he asked writing.

“I promise I will not be working at any restaurant or bar in South Carolina unless it’s here. And when I come back I promise I’ll make it up to you. If you can find someone I promise I’ll train them when I’m here. I’m scheduled for four more days.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Whatever it is, it must be important because I think you’ve used close to no sick days in 6 years. But damn, we’re gonna miss you.”

“I’ve had a lot of shitty jobs since I turned 16, but trust me when I say, this was hands down the best. Oh I got a new number, let me give it to you before I forget.”

Willie took down her new number and made a final plea to get Lena to stay before she left. Lena felt just a little bad, she honestly did. Willie and his wife, Michelle, had been more than flexible with her and her ever changing schedule as she worked through college and now graduate school. She would miss them, but in a year she would be back working for them again, for free. And as far away as it seemed it was only a year, less than that technically.

Lena shook the tiny bit of guilt out of her head as she pulled into her driveway. Grabbing her bags from the backseat, she went inside and set to work with Daisy by her side. After flipping a coin twice to see which she would book first, the concert tickets, hotel room or plane ticket, she put her feelers out to get the name of every last hotel the band stayed at last tour. In a matter hours, not only did she have every last hotel information, she had it all booked. It was truly amazing sometimes what the Bon Jovi fandom community could accomplish in such a short amount of time.

Lena poured herself a glass of wine and set to work with her new calendar to fill in tour dates and hotel reservations that she had made. The next four hours she slowly began to accumulate tickets and dealt with the scheduling nightmare that would be airfare.

Daisy demanded her dinner around 5, and Lena happily obliged before she started her and Sammy’s dinner. Lena happily hummed along to the new single she put on repeat, smiling bigger when she realized that exactly two weeks from today she would board a private plane en route to Uncasville, Connecticut to begin her adventure. 

January 23, 2013

Dear Diary,

That just sounds ridiculous. I’ll have to work on that. I’ve decided that I’m going to journal the next year of my life. Why you may ask, actually computer no you may not because honestly you’re a piece of shit and you’re getting replaced. Tomorrow. I’ll humor you anyway. I, Alina Patricia (yuck) Sabbatini, am now a bajillionaire. Well that’s an exaggeration, it’s only 264 million. And technically I’m sharing it and after taxes, it’s hardly anything…HA- not. Where to start, where to start.

Monday we had Chinese for dinner like we do every week. Yesterday, Tuesday, I went to the Publix to buy the lottery ticket with the numbers from my fortune cookie. At 10:59  I was still nagging Sammy for the remote so I didn’t miss the 11:00 drawing. She went to bed, I watched the numbers and everything changed. All six matched, AND I was the only winner. I was pretty sure my head exploded right then and there. Once Sammy confirmed what was essentially in frony of my face, I danced like a fool. For a long time. Thank god she didn’t get that part on tape.

I put the winning ticket on the refrigerator, just like that doctor did on Grey’s Anatomy when she inherited a bunch of money. We then spent the next hour trying to figure out if that was a safe place for it and what the odds were that THAT would be the night that we were robbed or the house caught on fire. After much debate, we finally left it there, made 6 photocopies, and attempted to sleep.

Sammy, bless her heart (I guess this southern thing is finally rubbing off on me), called us both out for the day. At 6:30 we loaded into my truck, and drove to the claims office in Columbia so we were there at 8:30 on the dot. We got rid of the ticket before anything happened to it and filled out a ridiculous amount of paperwork. I claimed it anonymously, everyone who needs to know I won already knows. Not that I think it will stay that way for long.

On the way home I changed my phone number, just in case, made an appointment to have a will drawn up, and arranged to have the house paid off as soon as I get my hands on the money. Then the rest of my student loans need to go. On our way back we stopped at at least a dozen snooty pet boutiques spoiling Daisy, even more than she already is. Much to my, and Sammy’s surprise it was possible. As Sammy said, “she is one seriously blinged pup.” How a 9 pound Maltese could be one of my rocks for so long, is still beyond me, but she’s getting her payback now. Tomorrow I MUST hit the Apple store. We’ve been through a lot, you piece of crap, I’m shocked you’re still alive. It’s been a long time since freshman orientation.

Anyway, what are my big plans for the next year which has prompted me to start this blessed journal/diary/thingy?

Bon Jovi.

Because We Can 2013.

I have a checklist of things to accomplish along the way. We’ll see how many I’ll be able to cross out this December. (He’s bound to go back to Australia, please say yes, please say yes)

In the next year I will:

Mission 1: Accumulate 50 folding chairs. (I don’t know how many North Americas are scheduled but let’s be honest he’s gonna add more.)

Mission 2: Be impulsive (but smart, no need to win the lottery and get myself killed) at least once…per continent.

Mission 3: Live in the moment.

Mission 4: See all 50 states.

Mission 5: NOT get involved with anyone roadies are trouble. So are rock stars.

Mission 6: NOT become a groupie. (see number 5)

Mission 7: Do something Sammy would do. (That’s scary)

Mission 8: Ride on a private jet.

Mission 9: Stay at the band hotel…in every city.

Mission 10: Be kind to everyone (unless they’re assholes). Just because I’m a bajillionaire does not mean I can be an ass.

Mission 11: Have fun, for real.

Mission 12: Let myself learn to trust, at least one person, even if it’s about something stupid.

Mission 13: Not be neurotic when I have to leave Daisy with Auntie Sammy, she will be fine.

Mission 14: Start a set list collection.

Mission 15: Try to catch concerts of other artists/bands on off days.

Mission 16: Find local charities worth donating to.

Mission 17: Find a way to meet the band…while maintaining your dignity.

Mission 18: Remain anonymous…

Mission 19: Get a tattoo.

Mission 20: Re-register for school for Spring 2014. I may not have to work, but I will. Next year.

Mission 21: Adopt a new look.

There are 1,000 more missions in my head but this is going to be a long year and I need my beauty rest.

Goal for tomorrow: new computer, book hotels around the world for the year (mission 9), start mission 1 (buy tickets like a crazy fool) and give my one week-ish notice at the bar.

Damn it’s gonna be a good year

*Insert clever sign off here * (I’ll work on it, I promise)

Lena (and Daisy)

1-6-13-20-51-31

Alina Sabbatini sat in her living room anxiously playing with her dog, Daisy’s, collar as she watched the clock.

“Girl, I swear if you don’t chill, well I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” her roommate and best friend Sammy sighed never breaking her gaze with the television.

“But NCIS is a repeat, and it’s almost 11,” Lena whined.

“I realize that, but there’s a preview for next week’s new episode and then I will happily hand over the remote to you. Now shush Lena or I’m gonna have to rewind and watch it again,” Sammy said turning the volume up.

Alina sighed as she watched the clock slowly tick. 10:56. 10:57. 10:58. 10:59. “Sammy,” she whined.

Sammy quickly waved her friend off as her preview ended. “It’s all yours,” she said changing the channel to FOX. “You know someone once said that the lottery was a tax break for the smart people who understood statistics and probability.”

“Don’t come begging me for a chunk of my earnings when I win the big one,” Lena said grabbing her lottery ticket from her purse.

“If it’s as big as the $2 you got last fall, I promise I won’t say a word. I’ll see you in the morning,” Sammy said kissing Daisy’s head before walking down the hallway to her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

“Don’t you worry about her pessimism Daisy, when Mommy wins the big one you don’t have to share any of your bones or pretty new clothes with Auntie Sammy,” Lena said biting her lip as she waited for the drawing.

“Good evening, America. This is tonight’s, January 22, 2013, drawing for the Mega Ball, good luck.” the announcer said as they showed the machines whirling the balls. “The first number out is ONE, the second ball up is SIX, the third ball up is THIRTEEN, the fourth ball up is TWENTY, the fifth ball up is FIFTY-ONE, and the mega ball is THIRTY-ONE. Congratulations to any winners, goodnight,” the announcer finished as the winning numbers were shown across the bottom of the screen.

Lena’s face went white as she fumbled with the remote to pause the television. She looked from her ticket in her hand back to the screen a dozen times. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy fu-,” she said as her voice trailed off. “SAMANTHA HILL,” she yelled. “SAMANTHA HILL GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE NOW!”

“Calm down, can this wait, I’m in the middle of-“ Sammy started before she was cut off.

“NOW,” Lena squealed in response as she stood to nervously pace the length of the couch.

Sammy made her way out to the living room a minute later with a clay mask on her face. “What,” she sighed.

“Read those numbers to me. The ones on the TV,” Lena said taking a deep breath. “Humor me.”

Sammy rolled her eyes and looked at the paused television. “1-6-13-20-51 and 31. Can I finish my mask in peace now?”

“One more thing, read my numbers,” Lena smiled handing Sammy her lottery ticket.

“Girl, I don’t know what is wrong with your eyesight,” Sammy sighed looking at the ticket. “1-6-13-20-51-31. Wait a minute are you telling me that you- that’s all six numbers- that’s 264 million dollars,” she said rambling over her thoughts. “Fuck me, we’re rich,” she smiled.

“First you’re not my type, missing some important and necessary equipment, as am I for that matter. And second Daisy and I are fucking rich. Gotta be in it to win it,” Lena smiled doing a very excited, uncoordinated dance. “Fucking rich doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she sang as she danced to the kitchen to hang the winning ticket on the refrigerator.

Sammy stood speechless, for once, as she watched her friend dance her way out of the room. Regaining her composure she followed Lena to the kitchen. “Girl if you’re serious about keeping it all for yourself and Daisy, that’s cool. Money does change pe-,” she started before she was cut off.

“Come on, do you really think I would do that to you? I mean you deserve it because you mock me terribly every week when I play. But who am I kidding, you’re my girl, girl. We’re fucking rich. So what’s 264 million divided by three,” Lena asked.

“Three? You’re not thinking of doing something stupid are you,” Sammy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Three, you, me and Daisy,” Lena smiled picking up Daisy.

Sammy shook her head. “A shit load of money.”

“Imagine all the pretty dresses Mommy is gonna buy you. And your own dresser and closet. And a Swarovski collar and leash,” Lena said to Daisy.

“And after you finish pimping the pup, what are you gonna do,” Sammy asked.

“I’m gonna get me a folding chair,” Lena squealed.

“I know the going rate is an arm, and a leg, and a kidney or two, but I’m pretty sure you’ll have some money left over.”

“No, no, no. Not just one, I’m getting me a tour’s worth,” Lena smiled, satisfied with her impulsive decision already planning the possibilities in her mind.