In my second week of work at the shelter, I adopted a cat. Shocking. They said it was a record. Matt has decreed NO MORE! So, I'm waiting for a house to become the crazy cat lady that lives within. (Just kidding, Matt!!!!!!!!)
I waited a bit in introducing him because Tabitha was having problems adjusting. She was doing a lot of hissing and hitting when I let everybody hang out together. Matt texted me, though, during a show this last weekend and said that Milo licked Tabitha's face and she licked his back. Success!
Here are a couple of snapshots of the new love. (I had to use flash, so they're all with shut-eye.)
Most of the time, when I say this, people scoff at me. Matt is certainly one of those people. I can understand it but I just don't care.
A memorable reaction was when I was talking to some guy in a bar a long time ago about another band that I love, Flogging Molly, and then I mentioned that I loved Blink 182 and he said, "I fucking hate Blink 182" and walked away. I thought it was funny, especially because he was kind of a dork.
Also, years ago, while driving in the city with Kendall and Rachel (on our way to Saturday Night Live, I believe), I somehow got Kendall to play one of their albums. And Kendall says, "Actually some of their songs are pretty good." "Actually? All of them."
Some concert memories:
One time, I drove to Long Island to see them at Nassau Coliseum with a (now ex, obviously) boyfriend who got so drunk during the show that he actually PASSED OUT on the people in front of us. Full on fell on them. The poor skinny girl somehow caught him. So embarrassing. And then on the drive home, when I was completely lost and stopped at a gas station, he took the map out of my hand, crumpled it up, and haphazardly tossed it into the back seat. And then had no recollection of what he'd done the next day when I told him the story. I really miss you, Bryan. Call me.
Then there was the concert at Roseland. What a grand evening that was. We all paid $73 for ten dollar tickets. Then when walking (limping in Rachel's case) down to the bathroom, some little emo-ish d-bag in the making decided to grab Rachel's ass when we were walking by. He had no idea what circle of hell he'd just signed up for when Rachel turned around and slapped him in the face and I pegged him against the wall, yelling at him about respecting females. Then there was the guy at the bar complaining about how much he hated the band and how someone had given him a free ticket and how he should have just stayed home and blah blah blah. So I interrupted his diatribe with a heartfelt, "Then why don't you fucking leave!?" And he looked at me like who in the hell are you? Me? I'm the one who paid 7 times the ticket price for mine and am THRILLED to be there, yelling along with every song. Also? I'm the belligerent one who's going to make you wish you hadn't crawled out of your hole to make it to the concert that you didn't want to come to. He left. Shocking. And then we all danced around like fools to all of the songs, loving every minute of it. That concert was so much fun.
And then it started getting lame. Another time, I went to see them at a race track in Massachusetts and everyone there was 13 and they were with their parents. I would so not want to be the parents, horrified at the overly sexual comments that the band members come up with. That was the end of the concerts. And now that they don't exist, there aren't any more anyway.
But I really love the band. Still. I know that they make crappy music. I know that when I go to the bar and one of their songs comes on, every frat boy with a popped collar will start hopping up and down, high fiving their douchy friends.
I recognize their idiocy. As Tom Delong put it on The Mark Tom and Travis Show, "We're professionals. You might not have known that but we are professionals. And what we do is professionally suck and professionally act like a bunch of assholes on stage. That's what we do. We're just as God made us."
How can you not love someone who says that?????
I just simply love listening to them. I love shouting their music at the top of my lungs in my car. I love playing albums on repeat. Once is not enough. Hell, twice isn't enough. I love that half of their lyrics make absolutely no sense. I shout those ones even louder!
There are some lyrics that do make sense though. Some that hit me when I hear them. Some that represent a time in my life and fill that needed spot. Here are a few:
"Here I am. Standing on my own. Not a motion from the telephone. I know not a reason why solitude's a reason to die." "I'm ripe with things to say. The words rot and fall away. What stupid poem could fix this home? I'd read it every day." "I never did do anything that she asked. I never let what happened stay in the past. I never did quite understand what she meant. In spite of everything." "So read my book, with a boring ending. A short story of a lonely guy."
And I simply love everything about Adam's Song.
And honestly? This quote is just pure poetry:
"I'm writing the report on losing and failing. When I move, I'm flailing now."
We got early easter basket goodness tonight at the homestead. Included were chocolate covered coffee beans. Matt told me not to eat any. Then he told me to eat a bunch. I ate 7 and flew around my parent's house for a good long while, shouting things like "pew pew pew". Then I was told to knock it off. Not cool considering the circumstances.
Kendall and Matt decided that they wanted to roast the peeps, included in the baskets, over a fire. Burny mouths and subsequent (shocking) goodness followed. Here are some of the pictures that documented the occasion.
(without my flash [loathe flash], some pictures that I wanted eluded me, and what with the ADD free for all I was ensconced in, I couldn't quite put in the effort to actually try and care. I'm including the fuzzy ones because that's the kind of awesome that I am.)
Being the erratic spontaneous wack job that I am, I decided at work yesterday that I wanted to chop my hair off. I discussed it a bit with my splendid co-workers and it was decided. I called the hair salon (Intrigue Salon in Fairfield, go immediately) and made an appointment with Jason, who is brilliant with my hair.
I went home and I didn't say anything to anyone else. No, "Oh my god, Matt! I'm chopping my hair off!" I was on the phone with my mom for a while and resisted (the family'll see me tomorrow).
I woke up, and off I went to my appointment. Not a shred of nervousness or regret brewing. "I want to chop it all off." Jason was all for it. He figured out a very flattering style for me and we were off. In addition, he mentioned something that made all the difference in this experience. He suggested that I donate my hair. I had totally forgotten that was an option!
Now, I feel that I must talk a bit about my hair. I have this weird obsession with wanting to have the longest hair in the room. Since it was in the middle of my back, this was usually easily accomplished. And I wanted it to grow and grow and grow forever. Like back in high school, when it was down to my waist. And then I looked in the mirror and went, "Blah! What am I doing? Yep, it's long. Longer than most people's. But it's also really heavy. And it keeps causing pulled muscles in my neck. And I only do three things with it. And I never brush it. And when I do, I kind of don't like how it looks. And it's kind of lame to keep it this long." Hence the journey. And the subsequent new do.
Tomorrow, I'll send my hair off to Locks of Love and I'm so excited that I can help out in this particular way. It'll give some little girl a chance to have long hair, too.
What is it about the power that funny cat videos and pictures possess? They simply never get old for me. I can watch the same stupid cat video 37 times and I'll laugh. Every. Single. Time. They just never get old. And never become unfunny. Sites like LOLcats and youtube cat videos, they're just guaranteed to make me laugh. Like a raving lunatic. I realize that this post is totally pointless, but I just can't help professing my love for cat retardedness. Love. It.
I caught whatever everyone has at work and have a wicked chest cough and this weird lump in my neck. A lymph node, but it still freaked me out so I went to a walk in clinic. He said to watch it for 2 weeks and if it's still there at that point, to come back and that it might be lymphoma. WHAT? So, he sent me on my way with a prescription for codeine cough syrup. YAY!
Questionnaire for Potential Ticket Holders in Row J, seats 1 and 3 - for shows that are on the more subtle side (a.k.a. Dionne Warwick/Suzanne Vegas, you know, NOT rock and roll shows where it's expected that you'll act like a drunk idiot):
1) Are you a housewife out on the town for the first time ALL year?
2) Did you drink the majority of a bottle of wine at dinner before the show?
3) When your favorite song (most are, apparently) comes on, will you go wild and crazy and throttle your sober husband in an orgiastic frenzy?
4) Do you promise to talk during every. single. song?
5) Especially the songs that are very quiet?
6) Then, do you promise to get belligerent when someone points out that you are yelling during said song?
7) When you're leaving the theatre at the end of the show, on the way down the stairs, do you promise to slur, "Well, I hope it's quiet enough for you now!"
8) When the situation is carefully explained to you, do you promise to threaten job loss? (As in: "I hope you have a job next week!" "Really? Are you going to have something to do with that? Let's go talk to my boss right now." And then will you run away?)
9) (Different person, but guilty of questions 1-5) When the star limps off of the stage at the end of the show, do you promise to yell, "Encore!" over and over again even as people are filing out of the theatre? And then, when your husband (who dozed off during the show, btw) gently says, "Honey, I think she's done for the night," do you promise to snap back, "Oh, she can come back out for one more!"
Less Important and entirely different, but these ones certainly count:
10) Are you on a first date?
11) If so, do you promise to get to know each other by shouting back and forth during the songs?
12) And then, because the woman doesn't know the band, but I happen to, do you promise to try and bond with me when I jump up from the lighting board to dance? (No, thanks, I don't want to high five you.)
If you answered yes to at least 3 of these questions, press "Buy Tickets", pronto.
If you answered yes to questions 1-9, you should hope I never see you again. But if I do, I hope it's when the staff is out to dinner and you and your entire family are stuck in the doorway right next to our table. That way, I can yell, "Look! It's that drunk lady from that show!" Oh wait, that already happened.
Please note that while many of the links from the 2004 posts do NOT go ANYwhere, I've kept the posts because some include funnier quotes from the missing articles and sometimes, I just like reading my own dumb comments about them. BUT, all of the links that go nowhere are labeled as such, in random, stupid ways. Ok-Goodbye!