Sunday
"I'm deeper than my shallowness." -'Cat's Tongue', SoulCrate Music
I so don't want to write this paper right now. It's not that I don't want to write it; I just don't want to write it now. I refuse to believe that I'm already screwed.
I really need to clean up my language before I go home. I meant to do so after Scav Hunt -Scav always degenerates my language- but I never got around to it. In related thoughts, 'ass' is not really any more vulgar than 'butt', and so is really as legitimate a term to describe that particular region of the anatomy.
If you believe in anatomy.
No one will get that reference.
If Neandertals existed today, would they be discriminated against?
The phrase "Even pirates have to write Bio papers" is fundamentally Not True. I had thought that consolingly to myself, then recoiled against its manifest falsehood, making me even less inclined to write the essay.
"Horns grow when my alarm hits at six-thirty / Hell no, I got my halo 'cause I'm hungry and thirsty."
"So I hide my horns with a hoodie and a halo, they know that blessed ain't no rest for the wicked. Please please don't push, I would change if I was able; able never comes in the time you predicted."
Saturday
"i didnt realize he was still alive, so many mixed emotions" [sic] -Igy, 06/06/2004
That quote, though I believe it stands fine alone, is regarding the death of Reagan.
This makes me want to re-write my ethical code. So does the fact that I'm not entirely sure where the original and sole written, and thus definitive, copy of my ethical code is. But anyway, many of those are guidlines that would well serve even if one is not a hero.
So the Decemberists concert last night rocked. More properly, the Decemberists/Long Winters/Places concert last night rocked, since they all deserve to be mentioned. Due to missing the first bus, we missed all of Head of Femur, the opening, non-touring-with-them band. *shrug*
The Places, then, were the first band we saw. They were very folky, with a beautiful upright bass (both bowed and plucked) and other cool instruments. It consisted of one guy playing various cool instruments, and a girl playing acoustic guitar and singing. They were quite good; I wouldn't mind seeing them again. They were from Portland, touring with The Decemberists and The Long Winters.
Next up, The Long Winters. The basic rock setup: one guitar, one bass, one drummer. Guitarist lead vocals, bassist backup vocals. The thing is, they're really, really good. And they did the 'let's switch instruments for a song' thing, which was hot. Plus, they had good presence, and nice sincerity, too. The frontman knew how to work a crowd between songs, too, which was fun. I am definitely going to buy a CD of theirs.
And then, of course, The Decemberists. They were awesome. They also did a lot of instrument switching and had an upright bass. They played a lot of really good stuff that sounds drastically different from the majority of the songs on Castaways and Cutouts, which I can only assume is from their other CD, since people were singing along. They played two new songs, too, apparantly. They did not play "July, July" as part of their set, though, and I was disappointed. I cheered for an encore with the rest of the crowd for that reason. We got a five-song encore. It rocked. It also happened to include "July, July", which made me very happy. I rocked out as best I could in the small amount of space I had.
That was really my complaint about the concert. People were too close to dance, but not close enough to dance, either. Most people who have been to the kind of shows where mosh pits break out should know what I mean. That kind of communal closeness is lacking in Chicago. At least at the Fireside people will give you some space to thrash about, if you want to dance, even though they won't get close to you when you don't. I want to go to a good show sometime this summer where I can feel that, like the Nodes shows were senior year. LifeLight will probably have it, and GodStock will if there is a GodStock this year. Hopefully, Nodes will do a show in SF after the end of their May/June tour; that would rock. I'd like to see the gang from the SF scene again, too, and I'd guess most of them would be there.
I'm done with SOSC. Forever. That rocks so hard.
Thursday
"When I feel weak I cut my hair." -'Midwest' by Atmospere
I need to get me some more quotes.
I also like getting quoted. In Nancy's AIM profile: "Is that... Dashboard Confessional? He's so whiny! But a really good hackysacker." Actually, I think I said 'But he plays a really good game of hacky-sack.' Whatever. At least it's not as bad as the Maroon. Huisker, indeed. 'Atlas here', indeed. I'm pissed that it didn't get fixed properly the second time around, too.
So lately, there's been even more people telling me that I should become a musician than there have been telling me to consider the priesthood. Both are somewhat flattering. I would like to play bass. In related news, I have also apparantly somehow acheived the musician sexiness factor without actually yet becoming a musician.
"Girl, how many stories can you fit into a tank top?"
How did I end up again with both a SOSC and a Bio paper due the next day? This time, I'm doing the SOSC one first; I can better afford a weak grade on the Bio one, I think.
"Gonna be the biggest thing to hit these little kids: Bigger than guns, bigger than cigarettes."
Oh, yeah, congratualions, class of 2004. Except for whoever spray-painted 'Class of '04' over the mural in the 55th street underpass. You are a bastard, and worse. I hope you trip and fall off the stage when you go to get your diploma. You deserve to be shaved bald, smeared with honey, and dumped in Lake Michigan. If I knew who you were, you'd be getting hate mail right now. If I could, I would punch you in the stomach. You jerk.
"I ain't drank forties since I became old enough to drink."
Monday
I wake up, open the shades, and say out loud, "What a beautiful day for a water baloon fight!"
I start running a bath, put bread in the toaster, and sit down to check some things on the Internet. Just as I finish with this, I hear what sounds a whole lot like thunder. I get up and look out the window, and everything is wet, with the entire sky a dark grey.
And now, by the time I finished writing those two paragraphs, it has stopped raining, the sun is back out, and it looks beautiful again.
It's like a taste of South Dakota right here in Chicago.
Sunday
Apparantly, I'm....
No, first things first: St. Elmo's fire, apparantly. As Nick and I tried to beat the storm coming home from Brent House. Everything flashed like a strobe ligt for a few seconds. I wish I'd been looking up.
Apparantly, I was acting.... well, ok, apparantly, I got pretty drunk last night. This needs to stop. I don't think I'm drinking too much by frequency, but apparantly I am by volume. I didn't mean to, but, yeah. I had a very strange conversation with Lorange (aka. Lanana), someone broke Doug's coffee table, and Nick was acting pretty sketch. Well, sketch for Nick, anyway. I tried absynth, and wished I could have tried it sober. I had a conversation about Daschle with John Lovejoy, and....
Actually, let me start over. Again. So, last night I went to Doug-Aid, which put Doug $100 further in the hole than before. We got there a while before everyone else, and we decided to play 'Never Have I Ever' as we waited for others to show up. Apparantly (according to Vanessa's analysis), since I was sitting down instead of up, around, dancing and whatnot like normal as I had my first drink of so, I got drunk faster than I normall would've. My rum-and-coke-and-vodkas were also fairly strong. Later I had some absynth, though not much. It was good, but I would've likedto have had it sober, to really experience it.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Other folks soon started showing up, and I shot them with a dart gun. Pretty soon the party was in full swing. It was also, based on some accounts I've gathered, grope-fest 2004 for everyone but me. Let's not get into that. I also apparantly acted pretty weird. I took off my pants, of course. For the first time ever, Beth was taking care of me while I was sloshed.It would've been cool if Leah had come, she could've seen a lot of my friends 'in action', as it were. No, not that kind of action.
But anyway, summer will get me away from drinking anyway. Probably.
That evening
"This problem is that he's French." -Sevda Numanbayraktaroglu, 05/25/2004
I'm so happy about the return of the Nothing Nice to Say archive, I just read the whole thing.
I'm trying to decide what to do tonight. I'd vaguely like to go to Doug-Aid, but I can't say why. That's not true, I know many of the factors: The flyer is cool-looking, the story is awesome, and I was personally invited. Also, I know that many cool people will be there, since it's kind of a post-post-Scav-party party, but I don't have four dollars. Would I go if I did? Maybe. No, yes. There's something else that compells me to go, but I'm afraid of it. I have the same feeling that motivates me to do so many things I'd not otherwise do (and sometimes regret doing later) in the music scene, the drive to show support. But why? Why am I driven by this? Is it because I'm afraid of being a hypocrite?
What a stupid reason. Of course I'm a hypocrite. Anyone who has done and said stupid things and continues to do and say stupid things will be a hypocrite. "Errare humanum est," and so is hypocrisy. To claim otherwise would be unneccessarily hypocritical.
But that doesn't mean my own hypocrisy doesn't bother me sometimes. I've often said that hypocrisy is innapropriate in important matters, leadership figures, and the like. Lately, I've been feeling like a hypocrite on an important issue. I've been praying about it, but the only answer I seem to get is, "Trust. Wait. See what happens, play it as it comes." This is frustrating. I'm sure it builds character or something, but it's frustrating.
Apparantly, those bottles are not only child-proof, but French-proof as well.
Saturday
"I'd be flipping you off if I had fingers." -Sophie, Lego Movie 2
Three nights. 75+ hours.
Time to clean the construction room!
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