Wine: A Girl's Best Friend.

Soooo. I go a little tipsy tonight. And when I blog like this, I try to keep lal typos for you guys to enjoy/jlaugh at me about.

Things I would blog about if I wasn't tipsy and about to watch some motha-fuckin' Dexgter:

* Mouse in house ate tomato = declaration of War = WTF? I cannot handle this. Need man person, STAT.

* I love my dog. he's the cutest dog ever.

* Dixon on the new 90210 is a-DORE-ah-bull.

* Know what I love more than lots of other stuff? half=popped pocorn kernals. i mean, popcorn kernels. fuck. this is hard.

* Learned v important yogi lesson today - will not always be in a good mood. Important thing is to ride the wave, realize you will get through it, know what helps pull you out of it, and not get bogged down in wallowing in it. Things are changing. Things. Are. Changing.

* New Conor Oberst project came out today. Monsters of Folk. So far not exactly loving it. Haven't even purchased it. Motto is normally: Conor can do no wrong. Potentially first time Conor fail. If this is true, entire pereception of world altered froever. fuck.

A Song to Pass the Time*

Songs, songs, songs running around in my head these days. Songs I don't normally sing, lots of radio hip-(p)hop.  Because I need to post, and these songs are all I can think about, it's one of those annoying youtube-y, song posts. (Look. I never said I'd be stellar when I returned to semi-regular blogging. Just said I'd try to be semi-regular.)

"Love Comes Around" - Keri Hilson, Feat. Kanye West & Ne-Yo. This track is the only song other than "Golddigger" where I condone Kanye so far. Love, love, loving this song. Because sometimes love knocks you down in a bad way. . .and every once in awhile it knocks you down in a good way. 




"Boom Boom Pow" - Black-Eyed Peas. Cannot explain this. It makes me want to dance and dance and dance. Plus, how you can resist the lyrical genius of, "I'm so 3008, you so 2000 and late?"




"I'm on a Boat" - The Lonely Island.  This is all Megs's fault. I have informed her repeatedly that I cannot get this song out of my head. She mentioned maybe I'd want to sing "I'm on a Plane" when I was flying to Florida for the weekend. Showed my friend this as soon as I landed, and an approximate hour was spent clicking on "related videos" - because that's the kind of devil YouTube is.




*Kudos to you if you got titular allusion.

Lately...

...I've had the strangest feelin' with no vivid reason to here to find. But yet the thought of losing you's been hangin' 'round my mind...."  Sorry. That's a habit I haven't been able to drop since high school - anytime someone starts off with the word "Lately" I break into Jodeci/Stevie Wonder.



I digress.**

A bullet list of things I've done "lately":

* Braves game! The Braves may be my latest sports obsession. It was so. much. fun. I haven't watched the Braves in awhile, but now I've totally memorized the lineup and have been keeping tabs on the score. If only I had cable.

* Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band. Aaaahh. There are no words. As it turns out, there are apparently no youtube videos or flickr photos either. Yet. Don't be sad. I'll find some for us soon.

* New record of driving home - 7.75 hours! The only problem is that this record is nearly untouchable yet everytime I drive I'll be kicking myself if I don't beat or match it. Sometimes awesomeness can be too awesome.

* Yoga at Athens Healing Arts Centre. I'm so in love with their Mon/Wed night power yoga class. The teacher is incredible, one of my very favoritist. Her class is challenging but she also does a remarkable job of the spiritual aspect of yoga practice as well. I'd seriously consider moving home just to take her class. No joke.

* Ate half a thin crust pizza and half a slice of birthday cake. Now, before you go all judgmental on me, let me tell you what I'd eaten previously today: 1) bowl of Cheerios for breakfast; 2) handful of Goldfish; 3) 6 inch veggie sub from Subway.  Plus, did you see above where I drove home in record time?! Then I walked the dog for 45 minutes. That shit will wipe a girl out. Tasted good, too. I *almost* don't feel guilty (I mean come one, it's thin crust).

**But since we're on the subject, how come there are no more R&B groups like there used to be? Boyz II Men, Bel Biv Devoe, Jodeci, and my personal favorite, K-Ci and JoJo.

Happy Birthday to Me!

No, you guys aren't in bizarro world, I'm just pre-planning. Also, one's 30th birthday is a milestone event, so I've just-this-very-moment decided to celebrate it until the year 2010. 

Going to *hopefully* see Rafa in person at the beginning of September! This morning I purchased tickets to four "sessions" of tennis at the US Open at Arthur Ashe Stadium.  Keeping fingers crossed Rafa plays during one of those sessions and on that court or else someone is going to get a beatdown.

Now that I think about it, throw the Conor concert in late July into the birthday festivities as well.

Birthdays rock. Everyone celebrate yours today!

WTF Happened?

I have no idea. One minute I'm full of inspiration and creativity.  The next, nothin'. Maybe it's Twitter. Maybe it's too much tennis. Maybe it's summer. Maybe it's TV season finales. Whatever it is, I'm hoping it will come back soon.

OH. Guess what?  I'M GOING TO SEE CONOR OBERST IN ATHENS MOTHER FUCKERS! Yep. I couldn't make the DC-area show and currently no shows around my neck of the woods. Plus...Conor. In the fucking 40 Watt.  As I told my co-workers after my post-court pre-lunch can't-get-tickets panic, "it's a dream show."  So. Excited. Two months away. I won't sleep until it's here. Muchos gracias to Ash who gave me a hook up. Ash, today you are totally my hero!

Destiny Calls

Disclaimer #1: For the sake of NaBloPoMo, which values everyday posting over adherence to a theme, I am suspending the "sport" theme for the evening (unless you want to call being a groupie a "sport"). I present to you an account I wrote last week about my drive two hours away to see my one and only Conor. Originally I planned to edit it before posting, but currently I am nursing a pounding headache.

Disclaimer #2: I find this post highly gratifying, as I was there, and I love Conor. I realize, however, that it may bore the panties off the rest of you. If this is the case, at least try the second YouTube. I think you'll find it at least somewhat amusing.

Disclaimer #3: Also, midway through I switch to Bridget-speak, then randomly switch back. Verb tenses are not uniform either. Apologies. My brain is too fried to care right now.

Without further ado:

I may be one of the most indecisive people in the entire universe, but one thing is for damn sure. Once my mind is made up, I stick to it. It is the rare goal that I do not achieve, and last night's concert was really no different.

On the way to the show, I had this intense feeling of recklessness. I almost felt in my bones that driving two hours for a concert was a bad idea. Quite literally, I thought I was a little insane. As I'm driving I'm shaking my head, sort of throwing my hands up at the situation, like a father would a child who is too hardheaded to listen and will just have to learn her lesson on her own terms.

Before I even set off, the signs pointed toward staying put, resting, and getting things done. I was in court in another county until 2:30pm, didn't get back to the home office until about 3. Even then, there were a million things on my to-do list. I perservered, left around 4:30, and decided that I would depart for the show around 6 or 6:30, putting me there at 8 or 8:30, with the show starting at 9.

Double-checking my directions as I'm relaxing after walking the dog, I notice that the show time is 8, not door time. Door time is 7, about one hour away. Well, shit. At least there are two opening bands, but the cost-benefit analysis is starting to swing pretty far in the "don't bother" direction.

Still hopped in the car and headed along my merry way.

Not much incident on the drive, but thanks Google Maps for failing me for the second time in one week. They told me to get off on I-95 NORTH instead of SOUTH, which had me turning around and adding an extra 15 minutes to my time of arrival.

No worries, I was in zen-like Conor anticipation and all that mattered was that I arrived.

Finally getting the right exit, I find the theatre fairly quickly, as well as the parking deck. Except wait. Can't enter the parking lot from this street, and the next street is one-way in the opposite direction.

Go around ass to get to elbow of entrace to parking lot. Drive past entrace because I don't think it's the right lot.

Drive around ass to get to elboe of entrace to parking lot again. Find a spot, grab my $$ and ID, and away I go!

Exit parking lot to find that indeed, I was right. Is the wrong parking lot. Is not the parking lot behind the theatre as I had intended, rather, it is an extra 2 blocks away. Nevermind. Will think of anti-mugging strategy after euphoria of the show. Must. Get. To. Venue.

Collect tickets from will-call and dash inside to relieve my bladder. At the very moment I unbutton my jeans I curse vehemently inside my head. Cell phone left in purse in car. Insert favorite curse word, I said them all. This means:
* No pictures
* No video
* No texting/calling during band changes (read: awkard standing alone for extended periods of time)
* No back-up in case of mugging on the way to car parked in semi-bumfuckville

At that moment I really wonder if I was meant to be here or not. Decide that all is not lost, and now will just enjoy the show rather than bother with phone. Will be fine.

Find a place in the crowd with a decent view. Decide that over there looks better. Go to Over There. Over There is a GIANT FOREST OF TALL PEOPLE. I am so not kidding you. I went from a clear view of short people to a bunch of dudes over 6 feet tall. Decide to move On The Other Side.

On The Other Side is pretty good. There is a couple that hugs for the entire duration of the first band, but whatever. Who am I to judge?

During the changeover, I move progressively closer until I'm around 5-6 rows deep from the stage. As I'm waiting for Conor to come out, I realize that EVERYONE around me is underage. Literally, they have the X on their hands and the under-21 wristband. Oh. God. Am too old for this. Where are the people my age? (I have no idea - I never found an answer to this question.)

Conor comes out and my immediate thought is that he's hooked on heroin. Dude is fucking skinny, but beyond that he looks ill. His face is sort of emaciated and he's all pale. He's either hooked on the stuff, or he's hella sick. I remember from looking at Youtubes of this tour that he's looked like this before, decide my soulmate has a drug problem and then get both angry and very depressed.

For a good 45mins to an hour the show is only slightly above average. The energy in the venue is all whack. The band seems down, the crowd is too young and self-conscious to dance, and Conor is, well, looking like he needs a fix.

Then he comes on to play "Milk Thistle." For some reason this is the song I've been waiting for all. night. long. It's not my favorite off the album, but it fits my mood and it's stuck in my head. It's a quiet, powerful tune, and the crowd grows silent. I'm just really entering the trance one goes into in these moments when WHAT THE FUCK. Why is there a damn balloon falling on my head??!!

The bitches basically right behind me are giggling and talking and getting mad at me for not playing their stupid balloon game. They won't shut up. Conor starts to glare. I want to hide under my shoe.

Despite their attempts on two more occassions to invigorate the lame balloon-tap game, it finally stops. Their mouths however, they do not. I want to strangle them. They have all but ruined the song I came to hear.

You can see the balloon a couple of times in this video. Fucking stupid balloon.

I keep my cool, take deep breaths, and tell myself that this has just been one of those times. Not every concert can be orgasms and rainbows. Sometimes it's just going to be pretty good, maybe even just ok. That's fine. That's life. At least you had this opportunity.

After "Milk Thistle" they play maybe one or two more, then exit. While we await the encore, I feel my eyelids starting to close. I half-heartedly debate leaving now, but I know that's really not an option. No way am I leaving early.

They tease us for awhile, but eventually they take the stage and begin the encore with one of my top 2 favorite songs on the new album: "Lenders in the Temple" - another song that you just need to be still and absorb and take in. Behind me they start that same shit again with the talking, and before Conor even utters the first word, I turn around and "Shshh" them. If that didn't work, I was going to get violent, but it seems the little shits at least can respect their elders.

From that point on, the show lifted itself up from average and into awesome. I don't know why Conor saved his energy for the encore, but oh hell, it was fantastic.

I'm already having a blast shaking my groove thing and enjoying the show when he starts to play "I Don't Want to Die in the Hospital." Half-way through the song he starts to take his boots off.

Then he rolls up his pants.

Then he takes off his jacket.

Then he starts to unbutton. his. shirt. I'm thinking he's just loosening the top, but oh no, he goes all the way to the very last button.

Then he does this:

(Not on the video: the microphone/jumprope that he throws is moments later picked up by a venue crew member and placed back into the mic holder. . .only for Conor to simply throw it down in favor of the second one. Hilarious.)

And I realize why I have come. I know that this is the reason I felt compelled to be here in the face of all signs pointing towards staying home. This absurd, possibly drunk, possibly high, possibly just plain crazy display of excitement in the middle of playing a song is a once-in-a-lifetime experience (unless of course, this is his new schtick). All with his shirt unbuttoned and naked chest with nifty talisman thing on display. (For the record: he later on rolled his sleeves up, and there were no noticable track marks on his forearms, which is good. Maybe he's just got a bad cold....)

Sigh. When do I get to see him again?

---------------------------------------------------
Update:
The entire "Hospital" song and strip-tease can be seen in the video below.  The clothes start coming off around 4:00, a minute or so later he attempts his first jumprope. Subsequent failed tries until the finale, which is the short clip above.

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

See that little sidebar that says "Listening to" and underneath it it says "the dialogue between the devil and my work ethic?"

Well, the Devil made me do it.

I just bought tickets to a Conor Oberst show about 2 hours away tomorrow night. 

Reasons I shouldn't go include but are not limited to:
- Work tomorrow
- Court Thursday morning, 9:30am
- 5-10 possible Jury trials on November 17th that I need to work on from now until then with decent sleep
- Masala will be home alone about 8 hours in addition to the time he's home alone while I'm at work
- Gas, $$, general vehicle wear and tear

Reasons I should/am/will probably go:
- I heart Conor

I'll Take Bronze and Happy Birthday to Me!

I know I was going for the gold tonight at the concert, but I'll settle for bronze.

Some highlights:

* Conor sang Happy Birthday! No really, he did! It just wasn't for me, it was for Nik Freitas, whose birthday was tonight (Aug 10). Still, pretty cool that he sang it tonight, no?

* Bought myself a souvenir t-shirt as a cheesy birthday gift

* Really close to the stage, I think I might have gotten some spit on me

* Waited outside after because what the hell, it was my birthday and Nik's birthday, so I figured I at least had something semi-original to say other than "great show." Met two cool sisters who were both as normal and as dorky as me. Going alone isn't so bad - you get to meet new people you never would've met before!

* Scored a set list. Yep. Dude brought one out to the fans waiting by the bus and said, "Who wants a set list?" One of my new friends was like, "It's her birthday!" So dude gave the set list to me. Normally I don't care much about these things, but I have to admit I'm pretty stoked about it.

* Never got to say hey to Conor or Nik, because it was pouring down raining, I'd waited an hour, and one of the staff told us they were staying overnight to celebrate Nik's birthday, then leaving tomorrow at 10am.

* Drove home trying to learn his new cd. Damn. New cd KICKS ASS ya'll. For real. I'm not just saying it because I love him; it's different from his usual sound, but it's really fuckin' good.


Obviously not from my show, but I am in love with this song, "Moab."

Must. Go. To. Sleep. (yeah, right. too excited)

Go for the Gold!

As you may remember, tonight is the night. I'm going to see my Conor in concert.

I have been more than a little bummed because, for various valid reasons, my original group of four companions has dwindled down to one: Me.

I've made some last-minute phone calls, but the reality of the situation is that A) it's a Sunday night, B) it's more than an hour's drive away, and C) not too many people in this little town have heard of Conor, much less willing to stay up super late on work-night and shell out $25 in this economy to see him in person.

And well, we know that not going is simply out of the question.

So, my faithful readers, I have formulated a plan. Since I'm going to there alone, may as well try to sleep with him. Yep. You read that right. The timing is perfect. No boyfriend wondering where I've wandered off to, no friends rubbing their eyes desperate to get back home - just me, slutting it up trying to get as close as I can to the famous person I most adore.

Of course the chances of this actually happening are basically zero, but what the hell? For the sake of blogdom, why not give it a shot? See how far I can get.

Check back next week for a full report, although let's be honest, we know I'm not one to kiss and tell ; )

(Wish me luck! And keep your fingers crossed that I don't get mugged walking back to my car in the parking deck!)