Friday, February 27, 2009
swimming
was slow today. i'm not at 100% and haven't been for a little while. i refuse to take steps backward because of it though. i think i just have to take it easy but keep on truckin' now.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
what do i love
about "the right stuff"? that boys are SO funny. and sam shepard.
what do i not love about it? i end up justifying my lust with "+25 years".
gee, ed harris had a cute hairy little body... 25 years ago.
dennis quaid was an idiot... 25 years ago (prolly still is).
scott glenn was an awesome badass... 25 years ago.
sam shepard was... *sigh*... 25 years ago.
why do people let themselves get old on this inside?
what do i not love about it? i end up justifying my lust with "+25 years".
gee, ed harris had a cute hairy little body... 25 years ago.
dennis quaid was an idiot... 25 years ago (prolly still is).
scott glenn was an awesome badass... 25 years ago.
sam shepard was... *sigh*... 25 years ago.
why do people let themselves get old on this inside?
thinking
everyone should watch some "paint your wagon" in the mornings. there's no better way to start the day than lee marvin and clint eastwood singing. except morning sex.
they call the wind mariah!
they call the wind mariah!
swimming
was disconnected today. and disconcerting. i couldn't remember which side to breathe out of. i couldn't focus. that's not a good thing when dealing with a large amount of water and a body that's not listening to the brain.
i'm going back to bed. and throwing out all my sinus medicines.
i'm going back to bed. and throwing out all my sinus medicines.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
recommendation
watch "the man who shot liberty valance" hopped up on antihistamines.
it makes jimmy stewart HIGHLARIOUS! and john wayne says "pilgrim" 7 times in the first 10 mintues he's on screen.
awesome.
it makes jimmy stewart HIGHLARIOUS! and john wayne says "pilgrim" 7 times in the first 10 mintues he's on screen.
awesome.
thinking
dear tommy stinson:
where's my motivation? did you take it because i need it bad right now.
give it back. motivation hog.
where's my motivation? did you take it because i need it bad right now.
give it back. motivation hog.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
thinking
i'm pretty in love with this gal who hosts this show on hgtv. it's the only show i watch on there. she's british. and the cutest thing i've seen in a long time. and her name is sophie.
i'd totally turn pink for her.
i'd totally turn pink for her.
thinking
the true destiny of neosporin creme (not ointment - i hate the word ointment) is to prevent rudolph nose when you're constantly blowing it. it moisturizes and keeps the redness WAY down. and it doesn't smell like anything.
my single leaky nostril thanks you.
my single leaky nostril thanks you.
how not into work am i right now?
bored enough to go onto those "networking" sites that i've sworn off for the last little while? i'll just check and see how everyone is doing, not actually get into it myself!
nope.
bored enough to break an almost 2 week non-texting streak that i'm rather proud of with someone who knows that texts WORK BOTH WAYS with a simple push of a button back into anxiety?
probably.
i need strength and will right now. i need work to be not boring. i need to not wish i were still snuggled up in bed. i need to not cause my own drama. i need something that's not a person that makes my heart flutter.
nope.
bored enough to break an almost 2 week non-texting streak that i'm rather proud of with someone who knows that texts WORK BOTH WAYS with a simple push of a button back into anxiety?
probably.
i need strength and will right now. i need work to be not boring. i need to not wish i were still snuggled up in bed. i need to not cause my own drama. i need something that's not a person that makes my heart flutter.
wondering
why only one nostril is constantly leaking clear snot. gimme all or none. only one side makes me think it's not so bad. but it's still bad. the neti pot isn't working yet. or it is and it could be LOTS worse than this.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
thinking
EVERY part of my body aches right now. my eyelashes and the tips of my hair ache.
what the hell is going on?!
what the hell is going on?!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
thinking
i've never seen john wayne's arms above the elbow. i wonder if he had a clause in his contract stating "actor's arms are not to be shown above the top dimple in the elbow. in the case of bicep or tricep viewing, actor has full disclosure and choice of stunt arm."
the san francisco valentine's day weekend post
i think i'm finally ready to write about this now. i couldn't tell you what took me so long, maybe i just wanted it to soak in... the right words had to ferment in my brain for a week for this to be right.
we'll start with the pictures so you can look at those along with the story:
beginning: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pixysnappypants/sets/72157614133827321/
middle: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pixysnappypants/sets/72157614090943261/
later middle: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pixysnappypants/sets/72157614136905280/
end pictures will be in post.
anyhooters, i went to san francisco for valentine's day weekend to hang with tori and beth. it's was a little "spur of the moment" - i bought my ticket on wednesday to leave on saturday morning - but i really want to do more stuff to encourage that in myself, so the "fuckit" was said and off i went.
the day started EARLY - 6:30 am flight - i got to SFO at 8:30. tori picks me up and we head into the city. since it was so early, we made a major score on parking, right where we wanted to be for the day for a tiny (relatively) amount of money. we walked up to fisherman's wharf and took in all the kitschy touristy stuff that i hadn't seen since i was about 10 years old - the first time i came here - in the best possible way: so early that things were just starting to open but there were NO people there. we continued our walk down all the piers until we got to pier 45 (the last one really) and decided that it was time for breky. while beth was getting herself ready, tori and i hunted down the buena vista - one of the 100 places to eat in san francisco before you die - for their irish coffee. we get there and it was PACKED. no room at the bar even, so we skeedaddled to the starbucks across the street and grabbed some highly corporatized pastries, water and tea and went merrily on our way.
we headed back down to pier 45 and happened upon the san francisco bush man on the way. the bush man is this dude who has these screens (?) with leaves and foliage that are about half the height of his body - one for each hand - and he squats down in front of a mailbox of trashcan or something about the same height as the screens and covers himself with them. in passing, he looks like a bush. really really. and when a group of unsuspecting anyones walks by, he jumps out and "arrrghgghhh!!"s at them and freaks them out. it's HIGHLARIOUS! he was too fast for me to get him in action, but i have pics of his "bushiness".
we get back to pier 45 - beth is having a little trouble finding it - so we go into the musee mechanique and go to town while waiting for her. this place basically has all the machines that used to be "entertainment" back in the day before tv and computers and general lack of imagination. it was incredible the detail in these machines and the ideas that they came up with. my personal favorite machine was "the opium den" (what?!?). you look at it initially and there are sickly looking people (i think they were all yellow or green and NOT from the age of the machine) sitting around a table, one's lying on a bed in the back and there are doors everywhere. you put a quarter in and the people at the table start smoking, the guy in bed starts jerking up violently, a snake starts coming out of a curtain in the back, a skeleton comes out of a door on the side and it just keeps going like that. talk about entertainment! talk about attention to detail! imagination (or reality for the creator?)! it's an entire museum dedicated to these machines. the worst one was called "end of the road" and it had a decrepit covered wagon and some old west-y skeletons and stuff and when you put your quarter in for it to do something, the wind blew. that's it. wind blowing. i'd have called that a gyp. even back in the day.
so, beth meets up with us and we play in the museum some more. then we head to the mission to walk around, have a drink and generally see what's going on. we take bart (my first time!) and it was awesome to see that good public transportation can actually exist in california. get on board socal, you idiots you.
we hop off bart and head directly to zeitgeist, an awesome "tough hipster" bar in the mission where they are known for their bloody marys. tori and i had been there before because they've got this great outdoor space that is perfect for people watching and just chilling out. we get there and it's empty - perfect! the bartender was initially annoyed with us because we couldn't decide what we wanted and so he just started making us bloody marys. we took them and by the end of the mixing those bartenders loved us. YAY! the 3 of us chill out, do some talking, it starts to fill up and we start watching and all is good. we finish and head towards clarion alley, this alley of art in the middle of the mission (with a stop at the awesome sex toy store on the way). literally, end to end, top to bottom, the walls of the buildings and homes on this block are covered in public art. it's gorgeous and overwhelming and always changing. you could be there for hours and still miss something - every inch, every corner has something in it. tori took much better photos than i did of it, but i got one or 2 really good ones that i like alot. but that's just it, it's an alley.
we eventually got to the other side of it and start walking - heading for the pirate store. you heard me. pirate store. on the way, we see a sign outside a building for palm readings and stuff and i have never had anything like that done and i was curious about the kitsch and silliness of it. i had talked to tori about it for awhile and we were going to do it in san diego over the holidays, but it didn't pan out. so seeing this sign was like a 2nd chance! we decided to go in and the 3 of us got our palms read by the CUTEST GIRL in the world. that's all i can say about it until next week. we went to the pirate store, YAR!, headed to a random pizza place that i can't remember the name of and had the pizza that was on the 100 things to eat in san francisco before you die list and then headed back to the ports on bart so we could get ready for the most incredible part of the weekend - the pillow fight.
at 6pm on the dot at the justin herman plaza in front of the san francisco port authority, a huge flash mob assembled to take part in a HUGE pillow fight. and tori, beth and i were there, pillows in had, ready to kick ass and take names. here start the pictures (these are all by tori - soakedinsin - unless otherwise specified):
the pre-fight obligatory group pic - you know it's pre fight because we're dry and featherless:
here's another of beth and i ready to kick the shit out of people:
so, the craziness starts at soon as the clock strikes 6. i can't even explain the madness. it went through peaks and valleys of crazy. and this is the perfect picture and shot of motion to show the beginning:
then it got like this:
then we had a moment of zen where tori decided to take a video capture:
but, in reality, that only captured our little pocket where we were. to give you an idea of the massive amount of people gathered to fight, i give the photofloor to kapshure:
we met a lot of random people at the fight. there was one who took a shine to me, we'll call him random guy joe because, well, his name was joe. his friends had left because they were old and pussies and he hung out to see what would happen. he was an enabler if nothing else. he'd say "you wanna attack the UN?" me: "ok!" bashbashbashwithpillowlove. he'd see someone with a person on their shoulders and say "you wanna play chicken with the monster?" me: "uhm, i don't think you want me on your shoulders - looks can be deceiving..." as he's starting to pick me up. so "ok!" it was the GREATEST view. and a felt like a girl because someone picked me up and put me on their shoulders. AND we won chicken and killed the monster. so then we became the monster. so they killed us. all evening he'd say "go get that guy" "let's get that one" "that little shit totally has it coming to him" (there was one there who really did - stupid brat) and we'd attack and attack. then i find out he's a wee babe of only 22 and he started talking. oh, i should never let them talk. here's joe and the ladies doing his capt. morgan pose. yes, i said it, but he did it.
and all that "snow" you see... feathers. it was like that for hours after... here's a better one:
and here's the obligatory post-fight pic. full of sweat and feathers - oh yeah, and i bled:
all in all, it was perfect. the entire day was perfect and exactly what i needed. here's a link to tori's photoset of the pillow fight.
the next day we went to zachary's for breakfast, saw "taken" at the movie theatre (not the best idea considering tori's april plans) went to heaven (trader joe's) and picked up snacks for a night in of watching old movies. i can't think of a better come-down than that.
then, i had to leave. we drove by the ocean because it was too wet and rough and rainy to go in or even on the beach but it was still beautiful. and then i'm at the airport and see that there is a buena vista in my terminal. i text tori to see if it counts that i have an irish coffee there for the 100 things to eat in san francisco before you die and she says yes. 15 minutes before i board, i down a delicious irish coffee made with tullamore dew and no baileys. it was GOOD. and then i'm gone.
that was the perfect weekend.
we'll start with the pictures so you can look at those along with the story:
beginning: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pixysnappypants/sets/72157614133827321/
middle: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pixysnappypants/sets/72157614090943261/
later middle: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pixysnappypants/sets/72157614136905280/
end pictures will be in post.
anyhooters, i went to san francisco for valentine's day weekend to hang with tori and beth. it's was a little "spur of the moment" - i bought my ticket on wednesday to leave on saturday morning - but i really want to do more stuff to encourage that in myself, so the "fuckit" was said and off i went.
the day started EARLY - 6:30 am flight - i got to SFO at 8:30. tori picks me up and we head into the city. since it was so early, we made a major score on parking, right where we wanted to be for the day for a tiny (relatively) amount of money. we walked up to fisherman's wharf and took in all the kitschy touristy stuff that i hadn't seen since i was about 10 years old - the first time i came here - in the best possible way: so early that things were just starting to open but there were NO people there. we continued our walk down all the piers until we got to pier 45 (the last one really) and decided that it was time for breky. while beth was getting herself ready, tori and i hunted down the buena vista - one of the 100 places to eat in san francisco before you die - for their irish coffee. we get there and it was PACKED. no room at the bar even, so we skeedaddled to the starbucks across the street and grabbed some highly corporatized pastries, water and tea and went merrily on our way.
we headed back down to pier 45 and happened upon the san francisco bush man on the way. the bush man is this dude who has these screens (?) with leaves and foliage that are about half the height of his body - one for each hand - and he squats down in front of a mailbox of trashcan or something about the same height as the screens and covers himself with them. in passing, he looks like a bush. really really. and when a group of unsuspecting anyones walks by, he jumps out and "arrrghgghhh!!"s at them and freaks them out. it's HIGHLARIOUS! he was too fast for me to get him in action, but i have pics of his "bushiness".
we get back to pier 45 - beth is having a little trouble finding it - so we go into the musee mechanique and go to town while waiting for her. this place basically has all the machines that used to be "entertainment" back in the day before tv and computers and general lack of imagination. it was incredible the detail in these machines and the ideas that they came up with. my personal favorite machine was "the opium den" (what?!?). you look at it initially and there are sickly looking people (i think they were all yellow or green and NOT from the age of the machine) sitting around a table, one's lying on a bed in the back and there are doors everywhere. you put a quarter in and the people at the table start smoking, the guy in bed starts jerking up violently, a snake starts coming out of a curtain in the back, a skeleton comes out of a door on the side and it just keeps going like that. talk about entertainment! talk about attention to detail! imagination (or reality for the creator?)! it's an entire museum dedicated to these machines. the worst one was called "end of the road" and it had a decrepit covered wagon and some old west-y skeletons and stuff and when you put your quarter in for it to do something, the wind blew. that's it. wind blowing. i'd have called that a gyp. even back in the day.
so, beth meets up with us and we play in the museum some more. then we head to the mission to walk around, have a drink and generally see what's going on. we take bart (my first time!) and it was awesome to see that good public transportation can actually exist in california. get on board socal, you idiots you.
we hop off bart and head directly to zeitgeist, an awesome "tough hipster" bar in the mission where they are known for their bloody marys. tori and i had been there before because they've got this great outdoor space that is perfect for people watching and just chilling out. we get there and it's empty - perfect! the bartender was initially annoyed with us because we couldn't decide what we wanted and so he just started making us bloody marys. we took them and by the end of the mixing those bartenders loved us. YAY! the 3 of us chill out, do some talking, it starts to fill up and we start watching and all is good. we finish and head towards clarion alley, this alley of art in the middle of the mission (with a stop at the awesome sex toy store on the way). literally, end to end, top to bottom, the walls of the buildings and homes on this block are covered in public art. it's gorgeous and overwhelming and always changing. you could be there for hours and still miss something - every inch, every corner has something in it. tori took much better photos than i did of it, but i got one or 2 really good ones that i like alot. but that's just it, it's an alley.
we eventually got to the other side of it and start walking - heading for the pirate store. you heard me. pirate store. on the way, we see a sign outside a building for palm readings and stuff and i have never had anything like that done and i was curious about the kitsch and silliness of it. i had talked to tori about it for awhile and we were going to do it in san diego over the holidays, but it didn't pan out. so seeing this sign was like a 2nd chance! we decided to go in and the 3 of us got our palms read by the CUTEST GIRL in the world. that's all i can say about it until next week. we went to the pirate store, YAR!, headed to a random pizza place that i can't remember the name of and had the pizza that was on the 100 things to eat in san francisco before you die list and then headed back to the ports on bart so we could get ready for the most incredible part of the weekend - the pillow fight.
at 6pm on the dot at the justin herman plaza in front of the san francisco port authority, a huge flash mob assembled to take part in a HUGE pillow fight. and tori, beth and i were there, pillows in had, ready to kick ass and take names. here start the pictures (these are all by tori - soakedinsin - unless otherwise specified):
the pre-fight obligatory group pic - you know it's pre fight because we're dry and featherless:
here's another of beth and i ready to kick the shit out of people:
so, the craziness starts at soon as the clock strikes 6. i can't even explain the madness. it went through peaks and valleys of crazy. and this is the perfect picture and shot of motion to show the beginning:
then it got like this:
then we had a moment of zen where tori decided to take a video capture:
but, in reality, that only captured our little pocket where we were. to give you an idea of the massive amount of people gathered to fight, i give the photofloor to kapshure:
we met a lot of random people at the fight. there was one who took a shine to me, we'll call him random guy joe because, well, his name was joe. his friends had left because they were old and pussies and he hung out to see what would happen. he was an enabler if nothing else. he'd say "you wanna attack the UN?" me: "ok!" bashbashbashwithpillowlove. he'd see someone with a person on their shoulders and say "you wanna play chicken with the monster?" me: "uhm, i don't think you want me on your shoulders - looks can be deceiving..." as he's starting to pick me up. so "ok!" it was the GREATEST view. and a felt like a girl because someone picked me up and put me on their shoulders. AND we won chicken and killed the monster. so then we became the monster. so they killed us. all evening he'd say "go get that guy" "let's get that one" "that little shit totally has it coming to him" (there was one there who really did - stupid brat) and we'd attack and attack. then i find out he's a wee babe of only 22 and he started talking. oh, i should never let them talk. here's joe and the ladies doing his capt. morgan pose. yes, i said it, but he did it.
and all that "snow" you see... feathers. it was like that for hours after... here's a better one:
and here's the obligatory post-fight pic. full of sweat and feathers - oh yeah, and i bled:
all in all, it was perfect. the entire day was perfect and exactly what i needed. here's a link to tori's photoset of the pillow fight.
the next day we went to zachary's for breakfast, saw "taken" at the movie theatre (not the best idea considering tori's april plans) went to heaven (trader joe's) and picked up snacks for a night in of watching old movies. i can't think of a better come-down than that.
then, i had to leave. we drove by the ocean because it was too wet and rough and rainy to go in or even on the beach but it was still beautiful. and then i'm at the airport and see that there is a buena vista in my terminal. i text tori to see if it counts that i have an irish coffee there for the 100 things to eat in san francisco before you die and she says yes. 15 minutes before i board, i down a delicious irish coffee made with tullamore dew and no baileys. it was GOOD. and then i'm gone.
that was the perfect weekend.
thinking
i love my boobs so much more when i have my dot. i can't stop touching them!
is that a science thing? or is it because i've got great boobies? hm.
is that a science thing? or is it because i've got great boobies? hm.
Friday, February 20, 2009
new-found appreciation
for nirvana. who knew they covered leadbelly? and covered him well?
thanks kexp.
thanks kexp.
thinking
today is going to be the day that i can't stop shoving food in my mouth. it's already started. blech.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
do androids dream of electric sheep?
i just watched "blade runner" and i'm trying to figure out why it's such a "guy" film. it's a love story. a big, huge, fluffy, "i wanna snuggle in a bath of love with you" love story. everyone's in love in that movie.
i'm not sayin' that dudes don't love love, who doesn't really? but this is just exploding in love. maybe it's all the neato effects and sci-fi-ery that it's got going on, but it's not lathered on so thick that it covers up the fact that this movie is so in love with love that it makes me want to vomit.
it must be that daryll hannah tried to kill a guy with her thighs. that's all i can figure.
i'm not sayin' that dudes don't love love, who doesn't really? but this is just exploding in love. maybe it's all the neato effects and sci-fi-ery that it's got going on, but it's not lathered on so thick that it covers up the fact that this movie is so in love with love that it makes me want to vomit.
it must be that daryll hannah tried to kill a guy with her thighs. that's all i can figure.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
swimming
was ok this morning. then i realized that i hadn't been in the water in 6 days. then i gave myself a break.
the pool was popular.
the pool was popular.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
thinking
i love jewish indian chiefs.
happy 35th anniversary blazing saddles. you greatest movie ever, you.
happy 35th anniversary blazing saddles. you greatest movie ever, you.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
thinking
roman holiday, big love, taken, hummus grazing and baked potato chip chicken sounds like the perfect come-down from the perfect valentine's day.
neglect
i'm not neglecting you my darling blog. i know i'm the only one that i read you, but i'm in norcal and will write to you about all the radness and the best valentine's day ever when i get home.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
thinking
when something says "24 hour fitness" wouldn't you think you'd be able to go there at 3:30am for a swim? isn't that the whole point of the "24 hour" thing?
Friday, February 13, 2009
feeling
like crap. i've ingested nothing but sugar today. i hate hallmark holidays that require desserts.
i'm salty. or in need of salt. i don't know which.
i'm salty. or in need of salt. i don't know which.
thinking
talking to myself on the internets is so much more cathartic than talking to myself in my head. or in my office.
let me know if you know why because i sure don't.
let me know if you know why because i sure don't.
thinking
if i drink this entire bottle of cranberry juice (32 oz) will i pee red?
i hope so, i could use some urinary excitement.
i hope so, i could use some urinary excitement.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
thinking
i live in the best town in the world when i can turn on the tv, flip through the channels and find matt the electrician.
thinking
i may have to start using a neti pot. this will be interesting.
i refuse to get "allergies".
i refuse to get "allergies".
thinking
how do you tell someone you have to work with everyday that they are an energy vampire and you just want them to leave you alone for a bit, without sounding like an asshole?
example: she came in and said, "are you mad at me? have i done something wrong?" me: "no, i'm just going through a lot of shit right now. i know i'm being an asshole and i'm sorry, but i just need this time." her: "but you laugh with *insert other employee's name here* but not with me anymore." more is said, but this is too much ramble for my liking.
that is high-maintenance and needy to me which turns me off to her even more. how do i say nicely that you take too much energy for me to be around you so much. i have to work with her EVERY. DAY.
is that something you learn with age? if so... that's stupid.
example: she came in and said, "are you mad at me? have i done something wrong?" me: "no, i'm just going through a lot of shit right now. i know i'm being an asshole and i'm sorry, but i just need this time." her: "but you laugh with *insert other employee's name here* but not with me anymore." more is said, but this is too much ramble for my liking.
that is high-maintenance and needy to me which turns me off to her even more. how do i say nicely that you take too much energy for me to be around you so much. i have to work with her EVERY. DAY.
is that something you learn with age? if so... that's stupid.
swimming
was not too bad today. i'm not looking forward to swimming at 3:30am on saturday so i can catch a 6:30 plane.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
thinking
i may live above a nihilist.
and "thunder road" makes me want to drive and drive and drive without ever stopping.
and "thunder road" makes me want to drive and drive and drive without ever stopping.
thinking
there's something so soft about someone as bas-ass as robert mitchum calling anyone "papa". it's so out of character.
it makes me love him more.
it makes me love him more.
thinking
my favorite text message that i've ever received is as follows:
I'm so glad you and I are friends. And that we've never boned. It means I'll always love you.
it was sent at the perfect time too - exactly when i needed it.
I'm so glad you and I are friends. And that we've never boned. It means I'll always love you.
it was sent at the perfect time too - exactly when i needed it.
playing hookey
it thundered and lightninged all night last night and cleared out the clouds that have been hanging around for the past week. i'm playing hookey to go take some pretty pictures and let the warm, soft, cuddly arms of my bed envelop me. i deserve it dammit.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
thinking
robert mitchum in cape fear is porn. i shouldn't even qualify that.
robert mitchum is porn.
robert mitchum is porn.
swimming
was medium hard today. it started out better than it ended, which is odd. i have a migraine.
Monday, February 9, 2009
so it begins
and with music no less.
last night I saw devotchka at la zona rosa and am now questioning my grip on reality.
let's start with the obligatory grump about mundane normal stuff, shall we?
la zona rosa now sucks ass for 3 reasons: 1. there are SO many beards there i can’t stand it. hipster, ironic beards that i just want to rip off all their faces. i’m ok with facial hair on the right face, but very few people can pull off a full fluffy beard without looking like a child molester. hop in your white window-less van and go to another show dammit. 2. getting into the venue is worse than going through airport security. you start at the bar entrance where they check your id, but not your ticket. then you get to the venue door and they check your bag, but not your id or your ticket. then you get to some random guy at a table who requests your ticket. i've put it away already you idiot! and 3. NO MORE LONE STAR. i officially don’t live in texas anymore when i’m there because they do not sell lone star at la zona rosa anymore. end gripe about venue.
now, onto the opener: Eric Bachmann and Crooked Fingers. i saw eric bachmann open for josh ritter about a year an a half ago and it was great, but it was just him and i was far away, so i didn't get to see as much as i did here. he had his trusty band with him this time and it made all the difference. this man has insanely large hands – i’m pretty sure he could palm my face – that look almost uncomfortable on the neck of the guitar as he plays. he’s a classically trained guitarist and he brings that to electric which adds an unexpected richness to the sounds that come out of that guitar. the songs are lovely and i can’t say anything disparaging about him or his band. they weren’t life changing, but they were good for what they were. i say give them a listen and see what you think, i’ll not try to sway you one way or another.
devotchka – the main attraction. i have no words for the awesomeness of this band. they come on stage, all in black, ready to take on whatever is before them, which, surprisingly, is pretty darn close to a full house (of beards). i’m transported on a lovely rockin’ cloud of strings and tubas, crunchy gypsy guitar and beautiful, effortless soaring vocals. nick urata’s like a magical merman with his voice. anything i say to try and describe the wonder and awe they inspire would only fall short, so you’ll just have to go see them live to see for yourself. all in all, it was a fabulous show. they are a feast for the senses – visually, aurally - every way a show can be. and all of them are fantastic show people. i was reading an article where they were described as “gypsy punk” and I can’t think of a more appropriate descriptor.
on to the people “watching” (more like forced people interaction for me): my beautiful merman - nick urata – oh daddy! - is not 10 feet from me rockin’ his little heart out in his sassy ¾ length velvet military coat when along comes this couple who has to stand right next to me so they can start molesting each other. i seriously think these 2 were on e. the sounds were enough to make me want to throw up on their shoes, let alone the display. and they were doing this make-out wild dance thing that cleared the nearest area – except for me, i can be pretty stubborn about my spot (remember this for later) – and i must say, it was the most physical contact I’ve had with any person in months. seriously, they kept bumping and rubbing me like I was a fifty-cent whore’s dance pole. i don’t know what’s sadder, that that’s the most consistent physical contact that i’ve had in months or that i just broadcast that on the internets. Hm. anyhoo, to demonstrate my point, it got to where they said they had to go to the bathroom and it took them 3 songs before they could stop fondling and eating each others faces enough to go. i was so close to telling them to just go together so they could fuck each others brains out, but i didn’t even though everyone else around me really wanted me to.
exit 1 half of disgustingly cute couple, enter drunk frat guys who don’t even know what band they’re seeing. this is where my grip on reality begins to loosen. these guys come up, directly in front of me, and start bouncing and dancing with elbows and spinning, obviously trying to start a mosh pit – and these were not small dudes. i’m talking 6’3” or 6’4” and at least a deuce a piece. uhm - HAVE YOU HEARD DEVOTCHKA? they are the LAST band in the world who would have a mosh pit. it pissed everyone off, but these were the kind of guys that respond to grumpiness with violence, so when the song ended, i took the most violently active one and told him that i really appreciated that he was having a good time, but i just wanted to let him know that if i got an elbow to the face, he was going to get a knee to the nuts. he understood and respected my boundaries for the rest of the encore, hitting me everywhere but above the neck. that was our deal. that's what i get for not being specific. then he offered to buy me a shot. then he forced me into the mosh pit because i really liked my spot (see “stubborn about my spot”) and i wasn’t going to give it up because of a couple of big drunk assholes. so i got in the mosh pit. i loosened up and let off some steam. i punched and shouldered large men in the chest. and i impressed people. my favorite part of it had to be at the end of the evening when i told the dude that started it all “thanks for not making me knee you in the nuts”.
Thus ends my first post.
ps - i want to be jeanie schroder when i grow up. she’s THE chick in the band, plays the tuba (with awesomely rad lights in it) and the cello and the stand up bass and the regular bass. and she looks positively thrilled every moment she’s on stage with this band. i am very jealous of her.
last night I saw devotchka at la zona rosa and am now questioning my grip on reality.
let's start with the obligatory grump about mundane normal stuff, shall we?
la zona rosa now sucks ass for 3 reasons: 1. there are SO many beards there i can’t stand it. hipster, ironic beards that i just want to rip off all their faces. i’m ok with facial hair on the right face, but very few people can pull off a full fluffy beard without looking like a child molester. hop in your white window-less van and go to another show dammit. 2. getting into the venue is worse than going through airport security. you start at the bar entrance where they check your id, but not your ticket. then you get to the venue door and they check your bag, but not your id or your ticket. then you get to some random guy at a table who requests your ticket. i've put it away already you idiot! and 3. NO MORE LONE STAR. i officially don’t live in texas anymore when i’m there because they do not sell lone star at la zona rosa anymore. end gripe about venue.
now, onto the opener: Eric Bachmann and Crooked Fingers. i saw eric bachmann open for josh ritter about a year an a half ago and it was great, but it was just him and i was far away, so i didn't get to see as much as i did here. he had his trusty band with him this time and it made all the difference. this man has insanely large hands – i’m pretty sure he could palm my face – that look almost uncomfortable on the neck of the guitar as he plays. he’s a classically trained guitarist and he brings that to electric which adds an unexpected richness to the sounds that come out of that guitar. the songs are lovely and i can’t say anything disparaging about him or his band. they weren’t life changing, but they were good for what they were. i say give them a listen and see what you think, i’ll not try to sway you one way or another.
devotchka – the main attraction. i have no words for the awesomeness of this band. they come on stage, all in black, ready to take on whatever is before them, which, surprisingly, is pretty darn close to a full house (of beards). i’m transported on a lovely rockin’ cloud of strings and tubas, crunchy gypsy guitar and beautiful, effortless soaring vocals. nick urata’s like a magical merman with his voice. anything i say to try and describe the wonder and awe they inspire would only fall short, so you’ll just have to go see them live to see for yourself. all in all, it was a fabulous show. they are a feast for the senses – visually, aurally - every way a show can be. and all of them are fantastic show people. i was reading an article where they were described as “gypsy punk” and I can’t think of a more appropriate descriptor.
on to the people “watching” (more like forced people interaction for me): my beautiful merman - nick urata – oh daddy! - is not 10 feet from me rockin’ his little heart out in his sassy ¾ length velvet military coat when along comes this couple who has to stand right next to me so they can start molesting each other. i seriously think these 2 were on e. the sounds were enough to make me want to throw up on their shoes, let alone the display. and they were doing this make-out wild dance thing that cleared the nearest area – except for me, i can be pretty stubborn about my spot (remember this for later) – and i must say, it was the most physical contact I’ve had with any person in months. seriously, they kept bumping and rubbing me like I was a fifty-cent whore’s dance pole. i don’t know what’s sadder, that that’s the most consistent physical contact that i’ve had in months or that i just broadcast that on the internets. Hm. anyhoo, to demonstrate my point, it got to where they said they had to go to the bathroom and it took them 3 songs before they could stop fondling and eating each others faces enough to go. i was so close to telling them to just go together so they could fuck each others brains out, but i didn’t even though everyone else around me really wanted me to.
exit 1 half of disgustingly cute couple, enter drunk frat guys who don’t even know what band they’re seeing. this is where my grip on reality begins to loosen. these guys come up, directly in front of me, and start bouncing and dancing with elbows and spinning, obviously trying to start a mosh pit – and these were not small dudes. i’m talking 6’3” or 6’4” and at least a deuce a piece. uhm - HAVE YOU HEARD DEVOTCHKA? they are the LAST band in the world who would have a mosh pit. it pissed everyone off, but these were the kind of guys that respond to grumpiness with violence, so when the song ended, i took the most violently active one and told him that i really appreciated that he was having a good time, but i just wanted to let him know that if i got an elbow to the face, he was going to get a knee to the nuts. he understood and respected my boundaries for the rest of the encore, hitting me everywhere but above the neck. that was our deal. that's what i get for not being specific. then he offered to buy me a shot. then he forced me into the mosh pit because i really liked my spot (see “stubborn about my spot”) and i wasn’t going to give it up because of a couple of big drunk assholes. so i got in the mosh pit. i loosened up and let off some steam. i punched and shouldered large men in the chest. and i impressed people. my favorite part of it had to be at the end of the evening when i told the dude that started it all “thanks for not making me knee you in the nuts”.
Thus ends my first post.
ps - i want to be jeanie schroder when i grow up. she’s THE chick in the band, plays the tuba (with awesomely rad lights in it) and the cello and the stand up bass and the regular bass. and she looks positively thrilled every moment she’s on stage with this band. i am very jealous of her.
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