It's one of those rare occasions; I have a lot to write (type, rather) about and decent time for which to do such a thing. I'll do a little rewind back to last Friday.
"DAMN GOOD TIMES!" I saw They Might Be Giants last week at the TLA with my good friends Zach, Marina, and Clint. Due to poor planning (on my part), we had to leave early, however, it was quite fantastic up to that dreaded point. Picture this: we were about 5 people away (think rows) from the stage. Meaning, I could see even see the wrinkles under John Linnell's eyes (they were lovely, by the way). Minus the obnoxious high school volleyball twits behind us, the concert was great. They played a lot of songs I knew plus many that I, as well as many, did not know, which only made me want to listen to more material by them (it did not have the usual isolating effect). In fact, I purchased one of their latest CD's and I'm listening to one of their Podcasts right now; weird, wild, scrumptious stuff. Experiencing live music is just one of those things which can never fully be explained and my inferior writing will never do it justice. I treasure my TMBG foam finger and will hopefully don it again in the near future. P.S. The opening acts were surprisingly good. A shock, I know. A sincere guy with a ukelele and a band that performed songlets about Mr. T. I had a warm fuzzy feeling throughout the pre-TMBG goodness.
"I GUESS EVIL DOES DIE..." Fans of the ol' LOTBAT, I have some unfortunate news. Botulism, my beloved Polish great-grandmother, at whom we have had many a great laugh, passed away on Mother's Day. Dying and being born on holidays is, in fact, a family tradition, so I'm glad she at least respected the pattern. Pour moi, the funeral was a distant event. The only times in which I felt any sort of grief were when I thought about my uncle's funeral. This sounds rather harsh, but I believe I've gone over her various plesantries (intolerances) in the past, so it's old news by now. Anyway, I ended up doing a reading (my new thing is impulsive volunteering), and tried my best to be a sincere Catholic despite my true feelings. Anything for Botch. I wish I could find my copy of the passage, it was quite a doozie. Something about when we die, we are dying for Lord, and when we live, we live for the Lord. I said "the God" instead of "God" at one point, but apparently people were so enamored by my incredible speaking technique (I studied the dynamics between Scott and Tracey Baker for years) that they didn't remember whenever I instinctively brought it up as a response to compliments. Oh, and I also almost tripped down the altar steps. Go me. The day wrapped up with a wine and dine of sorts; we ate at a catering place ("The Chateau," pinkies up) then went home and my mom and grandmom drank wine, like they do.
WHAT'S WITH THE COMPLIMENTS? On Thursday night, I went contra dancing at Glenside with Clint, Brittany and Bridget. It was the usual crowd, but for some reason, I was in the right element. I kept getting compliments about my dancing which has probably...yeah, never happened(i.e. "She's a really great dancer", "Do you do other types of dancing...oh, ballet (a whiiiile ago), must have paid off!"). I'm highly uncoordinated (see last passage) and for the most part lack grace. I guess I was doing something right. However, the one guy who kept winking at me was a tad bizarre...Brittany and Bridget took very well to Bruce, the resident transvestite, and everyone had a jolly good time. I ended up being too tired to drive (I'm not exaggerating; I started mumbling about Kennedy, the quirky MTV VJ from the 90's) so Brittany courageously commanded my minty fresh (222,000 miles fresh) Blazer.
SPEAKING OF WEIRDNESS... Last night (at 12:06, more specifically), I received the most unusual text message ever. Ahem... "Im (sic) going to be at the house naked waiting for you ok" Needless to say, I sent a message back and called (Dan's suggestion), however, Mr. or Ms. Nekkid never got back to me, and was not receiving phone calls. I was kind of dissapointed; I was looking forward to Shirtless (and Pantless) O'Clock. Weeeeeeird...
Well, on that (very odd) note, this Blogcast will conclude. "Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow."