I was sitting in a park across the street from a 24-hour bakery (Mmmm...MagnOLIAS...) as Saturday night crept into Sunday morning and took a call from a flatmate.

"Were you about four rows back this morning? Chuck saw orange and short blonde hair and he's convinced it was you."

I wasn't four rows back, so I assumed he was wrong, albeit sweet in trying to spot me in a crowd of faceless, camera-wielding dancing bodies.

But he's good - he managed to spot me. So as to prevent the rash of anonymous-but-not-really comments that could likely pop up here today otherwise, I'll own up. Admit and proudly embrace it.

Yes, you could see me on The Today Show, but only if you knew who I was and what I was wearing. But if you could pick the back of my orange-clad self out of the crowd, you would see that I clapped. I snapped pictures. I sang along. I daresay that shifty camera above and behind us caught me shaking my ass a bit as I grooved to "Wordplay."

And yes, as it was being performed live, I was enjoying it. Much as I said before the journey that I didn't like the song.

It was live. That makes all the difference.

Beth laughed hysterically as we reviewed the tape yesterday evening.

But I proudly embrace the fact that I rocked at Rockefeller Center. And know what?

It was fun. Kitschy, random fun much deserved after waking up at 5 a.m.

I'll add more to this little space about my weekend after I get a coffee into me. 'Cause I am a walking zombie today.

(What? I have to gear up for two more concerts this week? In Montreal and Boston? I'll rally, because that's what I do, but I predict I will be able to sleep standing up by Sunday.)