Regressive Behavior

I have downplayed it here, but you might as well know. I am a Clay Aiken freak of the first order. There are places all over the internet where one can indulge in this obsession, so I will not bring that here. But...

I have met some wonderful Clay fans over the last year and a half or so. To see our man as often as we can, we all pile into vans and travel up and down the East coast, sleeping four to six in a motel room, living on Doritos and Twinkies. Clay hasn't been on the road in a while, and we're suffering withdrawal. We have learned to combat the symptoms by getting together every couple of months anyway. This weekend was one of those times.

We're mostly women in our fifties. This weekend, we came from Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania and New York. We're highly educated. Professionals, many of us. And we act like 12-year olds, giggling and hooting at every little nuance in the endless concert bootlegs we watched until the wee hours this morning. I won't go into the fantasy scenarios we created with a Ken doll and some X-rated candy. You probably don't want to know. Now that I think about it...I was more reserved as a 12-year old!

I laughed until my face hurt...and then I laughed some more. It feels so good to just let go and not worry about what anybody thinks. That's the best thing I get out of this fandom - the connection to other women. My Clay buddies will probably never read this, but this is my way of acknowledging how special they are to me - and how much they have enriched my life. I love mah gurrls! [big Dinah Shore kiss!]