If you ever want to know what your mother went through when you were a teenager, try losing your roommate.
As crazy as she is, Taz is a creature of habit. She goes to bed early, gets up early. She hangs out with boys but won't let them touch her. She's random, but not reckless. JW, Jo Yo and I invited her to come see Adam Ezra Group with us tonight, but she declined on the grounds that her sleeping pattern had had a rough week and she wanted to get to bed early.
She made plans to watch an Adam Sandler movie with Abs, one of JW's apartment mates who she might be crushing on a little bit. Last I saw her she was vacuuming our living room in anticipation of his arrival, which was not at all extravagant for her - she goes all out for her boys. She will make a wonderful girlfriend when she finds the right dude.
Fast forward.
Went to the show. Paid three times more than we should've for parking because there was an event at the Agganis Arena next door. Lost tickets, found Rob (bassist), got new tickets for free. Got deafened and danced upon. Didn't stick around for drinks because the show went so long that last call was already over by the time we got out. Came home at 2:10AM to an empty room.
I was just going to go to sleep when it struck me how very odd it was that Taz was still out. It would have been less odd if she hadn't specifically said she wanted to go to bed early... but it still would have worried me. So I did what my mother always taught me I should do at at time like this.
I panicked.
Cue frantic phone calls, texts to JW asking if Abs was in the apartment (his light was off and JW was worried he'd wake up the roomie, so we never did find out), midnight wake-up call for Mnomanoms, and (half an hour later) a last-ditch effort sprint to the dining hall. I expected Lane to be closed at such an hour, but it was the last place Taz had told anyone she would be and the last place I could get into without a key to search for her.
It was open. This was the first time I've ever looked at our dining hall as a beacon of hope, and will most likely be the last. Sure enough I found Taz and Abs sitting on a couch downstairs, just talking. Taz was quick to point out that my fly was down. I was quick to point out that I'd been halfway into my PJs before the notion struck me that she was probably floating face down in Coy Pond and I had better go find her.
So, Mom, this post is for you. For the random times I didn't make it home when I said I would, or somehow failed to communicate what time I would actually be home, and for all the times I was over friends' houses with no cell phone reception (which was usually, because everyone I know lives in dead zones)... I'm sorry.
Peace, love, and undead roomies,
Miss Rex
Showing posts with label adventures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventures. Show all posts
All you need is love
All you need is love, and my weekend was full of it.
Thursday I had dinner with my friend Shmoe and his parents. We've been friends since Shmoe moved here our sophomore year of high school and I've always been close with his family too. Now that he's in the Coast Guard, we don't get to hang out much, so it was really excellent to catch up. After dinner we went for a night walk to see the fireflies in the fields behind his house. I've never seen so many! It was most magical. Shmoe caught me one, but it liked him better and flew away when he passed it to me.
Friday I took Derry on a little road trip to see my buddy Extra Large in a Medium World (remember my Awkward Game adversary?). I didn't think the little guy (the car, I mean) had it in him, but he made it without a problem. If one considers me driving most of the way without stepping on the brake to be "without a problem."
XL's mom made us delicious French toast with homemade caramel syrup for brunch. Let's just say I can understand why XL doesn't like school food. After, he took me to this park with a pond and a waterfall where he used to go fishing. We found a tetherball pole and I challenged him to a game.
If anyone is wondering, taking on a 6'7" guy at tetherball is not a recipe for win, and I have a bruise on my shin to prove it (turns out climbing the tetherball pole is also not a recipe for win).
We had to stop for crumbly crack (to all you normal people, butternut) donuts from this place in his town because even crazies need a little extra crazy sometimes. Then we crashed XL's dad's college reunion. They gave us good food and we cloud-watched for a solid hour and a half while the alumni caught up. I spotted an elephant and Hokusai, the great wave. XL found a bunch of dinosaurs and a camel. Overall a pretty successful round of cloud-gazing. We'll call it a tie.
Saturday I got to play princesses with Princess Sharon. She used to be my teacher but now she throws magical birthday parties for little girls, and I help sometimes. I befriended this in the mansion we partied at that day:
"Ford." "Yes." "I think I'm a sofa." "I know how you feel..." - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
The party was in the town next to the town where my first boyfriend (a.k.a. He Who Must Not Be Named) lived. His house wasn't exactly on the way, but I was early and remembered how to get there even after six years (and in spite of the fact I hadn't driven myself there back in the day; it was before I had a license). So I thought I'd drive by and see how the place was doing. HWMNBN moved out west ages ago but the house is still crunchasaurus ice cream blue, so I assume his grandparents still live there. It was weird seeing that it hadn't changed at all. It was like, instead of going to the town six years later, I just drove back in time and saw it the way it used to be. Hm, surreal. But off topic.
After the party I drove into Boston (miraculously Derry STILL hadn't broken down) to see another school friend, who we're gonna call Rad because he showed me this amazing song by the band Radical Face:
You don't have to watch. Just listen and be amazed.
Rad and I grabbed dinner at Chipotle and walked around the Prudential Center playing Never Have I Ever. We realized we'd mostly done and not done the same things, except I'd never kissed a girl.
The mall was mostly closed since it was after 9, but Barnes and Noble was still open (cue heavenly light beams and angel choir). We bonded over creepy posters of Robert Pattinson and that werewolf guy, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, and (naturally) poetry.
We were going to crash a bar after that, just to see if we could get in, but everyone was carding at the door so we just went back to his apartment. Rad played Train and Somewhere Over the Rainbow on his electric ukelele and showed me his balcony. Then I realized it was late-ish and my mother would worry if I didn't come home soon, so I left, and Derry still didn't die.
Today I had lunch with an atheist I met at my former youth group. It had been more than a year since we'd hung out, but thankfully he's one of those crazy people who never change. At least the parts you love never change. I'm sure he's smarter and more mature than back in the day. We got sammiches and ice cream and disturbed the other patrons with our enthusiastic discussion of mosh pits and hymns.
The reason I had to go back and write this very long post (thank you, anyone who's still with me) is because someone I consider a decent friend made me feel really stupid and worthless tonight, and I needed to remind myself how many amazing, positive, loving people I have in my life. The Beatles got a lot of things right, and this was one of them: all you need is love.
Peace, love and Paul McCartney,
Miss Rex
Thursday I had dinner with my friend Shmoe and his parents. We've been friends since Shmoe moved here our sophomore year of high school and I've always been close with his family too. Now that he's in the Coast Guard, we don't get to hang out much, so it was really excellent to catch up. After dinner we went for a night walk to see the fireflies in the fields behind his house. I've never seen so many! It was most magical. Shmoe caught me one, but it liked him better and flew away when he passed it to me.
Friday I took Derry on a little road trip to see my buddy Extra Large in a Medium World (remember my Awkward Game adversary?). I didn't think the little guy (the car, I mean) had it in him, but he made it without a problem. If one considers me driving most of the way without stepping on the brake to be "without a problem."
XL's mom made us delicious French toast with homemade caramel syrup for brunch. Let's just say I can understand why XL doesn't like school food. After, he took me to this park with a pond and a waterfall where he used to go fishing. We found a tetherball pole and I challenged him to a game.
If anyone is wondering, taking on a 6'7" guy at tetherball is not a recipe for win, and I have a bruise on my shin to prove it (turns out climbing the tetherball pole is also not a recipe for win).
We had to stop for crumbly crack (to all you normal people, butternut) donuts from this place in his town because even crazies need a little extra crazy sometimes. Then we crashed XL's dad's college reunion. They gave us good food and we cloud-watched for a solid hour and a half while the alumni caught up. I spotted an elephant and Hokusai, the great wave. XL found a bunch of dinosaurs and a camel. Overall a pretty successful round of cloud-gazing. We'll call it a tie.
Saturday I got to play princesses with Princess Sharon. She used to be my teacher but now she throws magical birthday parties for little girls, and I help sometimes. I befriended this in the mansion we partied at that day:
"Ford." "Yes." "I think I'm a sofa." "I know how you feel..." - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the GalaxyThe party was in the town next to the town where my first boyfriend (a.k.a. He Who Must Not Be Named) lived. His house wasn't exactly on the way, but I was early and remembered how to get there even after six years (and in spite of the fact I hadn't driven myself there back in the day; it was before I had a license). So I thought I'd drive by and see how the place was doing. HWMNBN moved out west ages ago but the house is still crunchasaurus ice cream blue, so I assume his grandparents still live there. It was weird seeing that it hadn't changed at all. It was like, instead of going to the town six years later, I just drove back in time and saw it the way it used to be. Hm, surreal. But off topic.
After the party I drove into Boston (miraculously Derry STILL hadn't broken down) to see another school friend, who we're gonna call Rad because he showed me this amazing song by the band Radical Face:
You don't have to watch. Just listen and be amazed.
Rad and I grabbed dinner at Chipotle and walked around the Prudential Center playing Never Have I Ever. We realized we'd mostly done and not done the same things, except I'd never kissed a girl.
The mall was mostly closed since it was after 9, but Barnes and Noble was still open (cue heavenly light beams and angel choir). We bonded over creepy posters of Robert Pattinson and that werewolf guy, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, and (naturally) poetry.
We were going to crash a bar after that, just to see if we could get in, but everyone was carding at the door so we just went back to his apartment. Rad played Train and Somewhere Over the Rainbow on his electric ukelele and showed me his balcony. Then I realized it was late-ish and my mother would worry if I didn't come home soon, so I left, and Derry still didn't die.
Today I had lunch with an atheist I met at my former youth group. It had been more than a year since we'd hung out, but thankfully he's one of those crazy people who never change. At least the parts you love never change. I'm sure he's smarter and more mature than back in the day. We got sammiches and ice cream and disturbed the other patrons with our enthusiastic discussion of mosh pits and hymns.
The reason I had to go back and write this very long post (thank you, anyone who's still with me) is because someone I consider a decent friend made me feel really stupid and worthless tonight, and I needed to remind myself how many amazing, positive, loving people I have in my life. The Beatles got a lot of things right, and this was one of them: all you need is love.
Peace, love and Paul McCartney,
Miss Rex
Final thoughts on Rome, and VIDEO!
Rome may not be the center of the world anymore, but try telling that to the eight million tourists milling around the Vatican. For the number of people here and for the diversity of language and race, it’s easy to forget that all roads no longer lead to Rome. But the bustle of the city also begs the question: Has Rome been too commercialized? Or does it still retain some of the ancient magic that made it a cultural hub years ago? I think the answer is, “both.”
I believe it’s important for people to come here and see the artifacts and sites. It provokes a connection and sense of reverence regarding history that can only be gained in a hands-on way. It’s mind-boggling to picture a group of people more or less like me erecting hundred-foot-tall stone columns at their public forums or the thousand arches of the Coliseum, not out of aesthetic ambition but for practical use. Just as I walk to the dining hall and then to the chapel and then to the library each day without a thought, the ancient Romans worked, ate, worshiped, played and studied in these majestic structures every day.
Imagining a population for whom these sights were ordinary offers a moving peek into history that we are fortunate to have.
Beyond even that, structures such as the crumbling Coliseum remind us that no earthly empire is everlasting, no matter how vast or powerful. I am reminded of the poem “Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley, which tells of a traveler who found the ruins of a huge statue. An inscription reads, “Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.” Ozymandias thought his kingdom would last forever. In the same way, people thought Rome would never fall. Neither is with us anymore. It’s not hard to imagine tourists visiting the United States in a few millennia to see what’s left of the Pentagon or Mount Rushmore. It’s a sobering thought, but I think people need to grasp the transience of all we take for granted – not only so we can appreciate the good things we have, but also so we can learn to hold those things loosely, assigning greater value to the intangible qualities of culture.
Yet on the other hand, the commercialized aspect of the tourist scene makes me cringe, and it’s more than the pressing crowds that make me feel that way. It seems somehow wrong to “go see the Vatican,” a place that was built to be holy and honoring to God. It’s not a museum. It’s holy ground (or should be). I’m glad the Pope still used it for his weekly message and that pilgrims still worship there. In this way, it is still being used for its intended purpose. On the other hand, I think the builders’ original vision for some of the other monuments has been lost.
But then, we have progressed. Maybe it is too much to ask that a new culture in a new millennium cling to the values of a culture so old we can hardly understand it. To the ancient Romans, watching lions eat Christians was quality entertainment. It would turn our stomachs today. For us, it would be sick to reinstate gladiatorial fights in the Coliseum, yet I believe it is a good thing to use that space as the public arena it was meant to be. I heard there was recently a concert there. Surely the designers did not intend for power chords to resonate through the stone arches. At the same time, this use of the Coliseum holds true to a purpose the architects may not have intended, but which is nonetheless as old as the structure itself: spectacle.
The real disrespect is the way vendors and con artists have turned the historical and religious sites into marketplaces and stages for robbery. Walking out of the Vatican, souvenir shop windows display tacky gold souvenirs plastered with the face of the Pope as if he were some flamboyant celebrity. It makes me think of the Bible story about Jesus overturning the tables in the sanctuary. It’s an even greater shame that portions of the city, including some of the most ancient sites, bear the artwork and tags of vandals.
All else aside, the fact that the new Rome reflects aspects of the greater global culture can hardly be pegged as a bad thing. Global culture values green space. One can see this in the city of Rome. As a matter of fact, the Italians have valued green space for centuries. In the center of the city you’ll find the gardens of the Borghese palace, a sprawling grassy space with paths for horseback riders and knolls for picnickers. Trees are scattered about and green and yellow birds fight scrawny brown squirrels for branch space. The gardens have been there for six hundred years, way before the rest of the world had even begun to create the pollution we are now desperate to eliminate with our city parks and nature reservations. Rome does not just open a window on ancient cultures; it spotlights today’s in a manner that even the culturally semi-literate can comprehend as a good thing, in spite of what may have been lost in the sweep of time and tourism.
------------------------------
And now for the much-slaved-over video, for which my video partner Tyler went to great lengths to procure a firewire cable (which connects the camcorder to the Mac) and for which he was pick-pocketed in the process:
Peace, love, and jet lag,
Miss Rex
I believe it’s important for people to come here and see the artifacts and sites. It provokes a connection and sense of reverence regarding history that can only be gained in a hands-on way. It’s mind-boggling to picture a group of people more or less like me erecting hundred-foot-tall stone columns at their public forums or the thousand arches of the Coliseum, not out of aesthetic ambition but for practical use. Just as I walk to the dining hall and then to the chapel and then to the library each day without a thought, the ancient Romans worked, ate, worshiped, played and studied in these majestic structures every day.
Imagining a population for whom these sights were ordinary offers a moving peek into history that we are fortunate to have.
Beyond even that, structures such as the crumbling Coliseum remind us that no earthly empire is everlasting, no matter how vast or powerful. I am reminded of the poem “Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley, which tells of a traveler who found the ruins of a huge statue. An inscription reads, “Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.” Ozymandias thought his kingdom would last forever. In the same way, people thought Rome would never fall. Neither is with us anymore. It’s not hard to imagine tourists visiting the United States in a few millennia to see what’s left of the Pentagon or Mount Rushmore. It’s a sobering thought, but I think people need to grasp the transience of all we take for granted – not only so we can appreciate the good things we have, but also so we can learn to hold those things loosely, assigning greater value to the intangible qualities of culture.
Yet on the other hand, the commercialized aspect of the tourist scene makes me cringe, and it’s more than the pressing crowds that make me feel that way. It seems somehow wrong to “go see the Vatican,” a place that was built to be holy and honoring to God. It’s not a museum. It’s holy ground (or should be). I’m glad the Pope still used it for his weekly message and that pilgrims still worship there. In this way, it is still being used for its intended purpose. On the other hand, I think the builders’ original vision for some of the other monuments has been lost.
But then, we have progressed. Maybe it is too much to ask that a new culture in a new millennium cling to the values of a culture so old we can hardly understand it. To the ancient Romans, watching lions eat Christians was quality entertainment. It would turn our stomachs today. For us, it would be sick to reinstate gladiatorial fights in the Coliseum, yet I believe it is a good thing to use that space as the public arena it was meant to be. I heard there was recently a concert there. Surely the designers did not intend for power chords to resonate through the stone arches. At the same time, this use of the Coliseum holds true to a purpose the architects may not have intended, but which is nonetheless as old as the structure itself: spectacle.
The real disrespect is the way vendors and con artists have turned the historical and religious sites into marketplaces and stages for robbery. Walking out of the Vatican, souvenir shop windows display tacky gold souvenirs plastered with the face of the Pope as if he were some flamboyant celebrity. It makes me think of the Bible story about Jesus overturning the tables in the sanctuary. It’s an even greater shame that portions of the city, including some of the most ancient sites, bear the artwork and tags of vandals.
All else aside, the fact that the new Rome reflects aspects of the greater global culture can hardly be pegged as a bad thing. Global culture values green space. One can see this in the city of Rome. As a matter of fact, the Italians have valued green space for centuries. In the center of the city you’ll find the gardens of the Borghese palace, a sprawling grassy space with paths for horseback riders and knolls for picnickers. Trees are scattered about and green and yellow birds fight scrawny brown squirrels for branch space. The gardens have been there for six hundred years, way before the rest of the world had even begun to create the pollution we are now desperate to eliminate with our city parks and nature reservations. Rome does not just open a window on ancient cultures; it spotlights today’s in a manner that even the culturally semi-literate can comprehend as a good thing, in spite of what may have been lost in the sweep of time and tourism.
------------------------------
And now for the much-slaved-over video, for which my video partner Tyler went to great lengths to procure a firewire cable (which connects the camcorder to the Mac) and for which he was pick-pocketed in the process:
Peace, love, and jet lag,
Miss Rex
When in Assisi, do as the Franciscans do
Ciao, friends! I'm writing to you from Assisi, Italy! So fear not, there IS a good reason for my neglecting you all week.
I'm here for a journalism seminar with 11 other Go-Co kids. I'm in charge of documenting the trip and compiling a promotional video, since this is a new seminar. Thus I have waaay too many pictures to upload them all, but I'm trying to pick out the best of them. I shall post them tomorrow for Photofinish Friday! Until then, some thoughts:
There is something pleasantly surreal about living in a city that is centuries older than my entire country.
Passing under stone archways, I wonder how they are still standing and what it was like for Saint Clare to pass under those same arches in the 1200s. Climbing the hill to the castle called La Rocca, I wonder how many battles were fought on these ancient slopes and for what. I wonder how this rich culture and civilization could be so deeply rooted in these mountains for thousands of years without tarnishing the green of the valley. I wonder how an ancient religious order still draws practicing friars in the 21st century.
Here in this place, free from cell phones and wireless Internet and the general hubbub of the States, where the gardens encroach on the city, where you can wash down gelato with a glass of wine, where the locals need their afternoon siesta, here where history is in the very mortar of the walls and where learning is not a chore but a privilege – here I can breathe.
We have a fantastic group without whom this beautiful place would be infinitely less beautiful. Everyone is so chill and there is almost always someone up for doing something (especially drinking vino!). It's hard to buckle down and do work when you're surrounded by so many great friends and such a rich culture, but thankfully the load isn't as heavy as our professor keeps making it out to be. At least I haven't found it to be so. Video work isn't stressful for me; in fact, except for the headache that is logging and capturing videos from a camcorder, I find it almost therapeutic. And with that I am off to play with my new buddy, Final Cut Express. Arrividerci!
Peace, love and gelato,
Miss Rex
I'm here for a journalism seminar with 11 other Go-Co kids. I'm in charge of documenting the trip and compiling a promotional video, since this is a new seminar. Thus I have waaay too many pictures to upload them all, but I'm trying to pick out the best of them. I shall post them tomorrow for Photofinish Friday! Until then, some thoughts:
There is something pleasantly surreal about living in a city that is centuries older than my entire country.
Passing under stone archways, I wonder how they are still standing and what it was like for Saint Clare to pass under those same arches in the 1200s. Climbing the hill to the castle called La Rocca, I wonder how many battles were fought on these ancient slopes and for what. I wonder how this rich culture and civilization could be so deeply rooted in these mountains for thousands of years without tarnishing the green of the valley. I wonder how an ancient religious order still draws practicing friars in the 21st century.
Here in this place, free from cell phones and wireless Internet and the general hubbub of the States, where the gardens encroach on the city, where you can wash down gelato with a glass of wine, where the locals need their afternoon siesta, here where history is in the very mortar of the walls and where learning is not a chore but a privilege – here I can breathe.
We have a fantastic group without whom this beautiful place would be infinitely less beautiful. Everyone is so chill and there is almost always someone up for doing something (especially drinking vino!). It's hard to buckle down and do work when you're surrounded by so many great friends and such a rich culture, but thankfully the load isn't as heavy as our professor keeps making it out to be. At least I haven't found it to be so. Video work isn't stressful for me; in fact, except for the headache that is logging and capturing videos from a camcorder, I find it almost therapeutic. And with that I am off to play with my new buddy, Final Cut Express. Arrividerci!
Peace, love and gelato,
Miss Rex
Let's get ready to raaaaamble
This Sunday was Adam Ezra Group's Ramble at Salisbury Beach. If you saw my Ramble plug, you know that buses were supposed to pick up concertgoers and take them to the venue for a pre-amble complete with sand, snacks and the obligatory meet and greet. All fabulous in theory. In practice, though...
My bus never came. Turns out that the driver got so turned around by the Walk for Hunger in Boston that he just forgot to come to Go-Co. My car effed up again on my way back to school Friday afternoon, so I was wary of taking the poor guy on a 45-minute road trip, but I was desperate. It would've taken more than twice as long for the bus to drop off the rest of the kids and come back for me. On the bright side, it was a gorgeous day for a drive and my route took me through some really nice scenery. And I didn't have to leave the show as early as everybody else did, which equaled chill time with the band, which you know was a big perk in my book!
Salisbury Beach was a town in a time warp. There were old-school arcades with games from the early '80s, if not earlier. I imagine Hull used to look like this back in its heyday. Wish it still did. I took on Rob, AEG's bassist, at air hockey and tried all the cookies in the fundraiser contest, but I didn't get much hang time with the band because I was so late and they had to go warm up. Adam felt really bad the bus forgot me. Turtle said, "I told you it wouldn't work."
I took many a picture with my new camera, which I've dubbed "Cassie." Here I'd like to share the best of them with you. Concert photos first; later I'll post pictures of the town once I've had a chance to sort/fix them.
I helped the guys pack out after the show and we chilled outside with a couple girls who go to even more of their shows than I do. I found out Chappy (the one playing the weird drum thing that looks like an urn) grew up in the town next to mine. Small world. Then they all decided to go to a bar, and they were going to pretend I was 21 so I could go in with them and I just wouldn't order any drinks, but alas, they were checking IDs at the door, so I left. Apparently I am now cool enough to get a kiss on the cheek from Adam when I say goodbye. That's kind of rad.
The rest of the night turned into a fiasco of epic proportions, but that is a story for another time.
My bus never came. Turns out that the driver got so turned around by the Walk for Hunger in Boston that he just forgot to come to Go-Co. My car effed up again on my way back to school Friday afternoon, so I was wary of taking the poor guy on a 45-minute road trip, but I was desperate. It would've taken more than twice as long for the bus to drop off the rest of the kids and come back for me. On the bright side, it was a gorgeous day for a drive and my route took me through some really nice scenery. And I didn't have to leave the show as early as everybody else did, which equaled chill time with the band, which you know was a big perk in my book!
Salisbury Beach was a town in a time warp. There were old-school arcades with games from the early '80s, if not earlier. I imagine Hull used to look like this back in its heyday. Wish it still did. I took on Rob, AEG's bassist, at air hockey and tried all the cookies in the fundraiser contest, but I didn't get much hang time with the band because I was so late and they had to go warm up. Adam felt really bad the bus forgot me. Turtle said, "I told you it wouldn't work."
I took many a picture with my new camera, which I've dubbed "Cassie." Here I'd like to share the best of them with you. Concert photos first; later I'll post pictures of the town once I've had a chance to sort/fix them.
I helped the guys pack out after the show and we chilled outside with a couple girls who go to even more of their shows than I do. I found out Chappy (the one playing the weird drum thing that looks like an urn) grew up in the town next to mine. Small world. Then they all decided to go to a bar, and they were going to pretend I was 21 so I could go in with them and I just wouldn't order any drinks, but alas, they were checking IDs at the door, so I left. Apparently I am now cool enough to get a kiss on the cheek from Adam when I say goodbye. That's kind of rad.
The rest of the night turned into a fiasco of epic proportions, but that is a story for another time.
Tales of the Kiros
I got back to my room at 3:36 this morning after One Awesome Night. My friend the Spontaneous Concert Enthusiast took me and his girlfriend to see Kiros in Maine. I didn't have very high hopes for the show after hearing it was at a church, because let's face it, have you EVER seen a GOOD concert in a church? No. You haven't. They don't happen. But this thing was legit for three important reasons.
1. People were lined up across the parking lot in the pouring rain in hopes of getting decent spots.
2. They had epic security. The guys outside the show seemed determined not to let the three of us be the first ones in, but we got there at 3:30 in the afternoon and we DESERVED to be the first ones in, darn it, so we shoved our way to the front of every new line they tried to stick us at the end of. Then we finally get in only to find that there are tall, grumpy looking men stationed every few feet in front of the stage and that made seeing the show a wee bit problematic. But SCE danced his face off, which the guards near us apparently found endearing, and they chilled out a little after that.
3. There were lights. Big, bright, flashing lights of many colors and in great numbers that made me very happy in spite of probably costing an obscene amount of money.
Kiros sadly had a very short set, I think about five songs, which was such a bummer after that long ride, but it was still worth it because they played "As Long as You Love Me" by the Backstreet Boys and SCE got to go up on stage and dance like a BSB. Also, Ryan told me to stand at his end of the stage so he could steal my heart-shaped sunglasses for the last song. It was priceless (and me without a camera, for mine decided to fail last month).
The second band, DecembeRadio, really got the crowd excited and their set was in general a lot of fun even though I didn't know any of their songs. But I did not like Seventh Day Slumber, the third band. Their music wasn't terrible, but between the hard rock hymns and the liquid nitrogen shooters, I got this icky feeling they were trying way too hard to prove that Jesus can be cool.
Then the singer spent about an hour giving his story of faith. I couldn't not respect the guy after hearing all he went through, but all the same, I didn't drive to Maine for a sermon. If you want to read my whole rant, be my guest. For now, back to tales of the Kiros!
Picture this (I giggle every time I do). Tyler, the drummer, borrowed my brand new pink paisley umbrella to go outside before the show and introduce himself to the kids. Now this guy has long hair, facial piercings, a full sleeve on one arm as well as tats on his feet and possibly elsewhere that I don't know about, and gauge piercings in his ears. Furthermore, after meeting a kid who said he was a rapper, Tyler proceeded to rap with the kid, still holding my pretty pink umbrella. Again, where is my camera when I need it?
Barry convinced SCE to pretend to break up with his girlfriend after Barry asked her why she loves Jesus and she only gave him the "Sunday School answer." Luckily Barry and I were laughing in the background so she knew SCE wasn't serious.
After everything was packed up, we all went to Wendy's, crossing our fingers that it would still be open since it was 12:50 and they close at 1. There was a guy in a pickup truck right in front of us and we watched him get his food, but the Wendy's workers totally ignored us. So we pulled up to the pick-up window and tried to reason with them, but they wouldn't hear it, so instead we went to a gas station.
Ryan dared me to hit on a couple of drunk ladies in there, but I wasn't entirely sure I could even pull of hitting on a dude, so he took it upon himself to make sure these gals got hit on. It was great.
Then we all did these weird little espresso shots we found next to the creamer, and the guys stole a bunch of them to put in the glove compartment for long drives.
Then we just sat around in their short bus for a while. Yes, they tour in a short bus. Their van blew up in Washington state or thereabouts and now they have this. It's pretty sexcellent.
Around 3ish, the band decided they should probably go to the house they were staying at that night (my parents would murder if a band showed up at our house at 3 in the morning), and there ends the tale of the Kiros.
Peace, love, and fog machines,
Miss Rex
1. People were lined up across the parking lot in the pouring rain in hopes of getting decent spots.
2. They had epic security. The guys outside the show seemed determined not to let the three of us be the first ones in, but we got there at 3:30 in the afternoon and we DESERVED to be the first ones in, darn it, so we shoved our way to the front of every new line they tried to stick us at the end of. Then we finally get in only to find that there are tall, grumpy looking men stationed every few feet in front of the stage and that made seeing the show a wee bit problematic. But SCE danced his face off, which the guards near us apparently found endearing, and they chilled out a little after that.
3. There were lights. Big, bright, flashing lights of many colors and in great numbers that made me very happy in spite of probably costing an obscene amount of money.
Kiros sadly had a very short set, I think about five songs, which was such a bummer after that long ride, but it was still worth it because they played "As Long as You Love Me" by the Backstreet Boys and SCE got to go up on stage and dance like a BSB. Also, Ryan told me to stand at his end of the stage so he could steal my heart-shaped sunglasses for the last song. It was priceless (and me without a camera, for mine decided to fail last month).
The second band, DecembeRadio, really got the crowd excited and their set was in general a lot of fun even though I didn't know any of their songs. But I did not like Seventh Day Slumber, the third band. Their music wasn't terrible, but between the hard rock hymns and the liquid nitrogen shooters, I got this icky feeling they were trying way too hard to prove that Jesus can be cool.
Then the singer spent about an hour giving his story of faith. I couldn't not respect the guy after hearing all he went through, but all the same, I didn't drive to Maine for a sermon. If you want to read my whole rant, be my guest. For now, back to tales of the Kiros!
Picture this (I giggle every time I do). Tyler, the drummer, borrowed my brand new pink paisley umbrella to go outside before the show and introduce himself to the kids. Now this guy has long hair, facial piercings, a full sleeve on one arm as well as tats on his feet and possibly elsewhere that I don't know about, and gauge piercings in his ears. Furthermore, after meeting a kid who said he was a rapper, Tyler proceeded to rap with the kid, still holding my pretty pink umbrella. Again, where is my camera when I need it?
Barry convinced SCE to pretend to break up with his girlfriend after Barry asked her why she loves Jesus and she only gave him the "Sunday School answer." Luckily Barry and I were laughing in the background so she knew SCE wasn't serious.
After everything was packed up, we all went to Wendy's, crossing our fingers that it would still be open since it was 12:50 and they close at 1. There was a guy in a pickup truck right in front of us and we watched him get his food, but the Wendy's workers totally ignored us. So we pulled up to the pick-up window and tried to reason with them, but they wouldn't hear it, so instead we went to a gas station.
Ryan dared me to hit on a couple of drunk ladies in there, but I wasn't entirely sure I could even pull of hitting on a dude, so he took it upon himself to make sure these gals got hit on. It was great.
Then we all did these weird little espresso shots we found next to the creamer, and the guys stole a bunch of them to put in the glove compartment for long drives.
Then we just sat around in their short bus for a while. Yes, they tour in a short bus. Their van blew up in Washington state or thereabouts and now they have this. It's pretty sexcellent.
Around 3ish, the band decided they should probably go to the house they were staying at that night (my parents would murder if a band showed up at our house at 3 in the morning), and there ends the tale of the Kiros.
Peace, love, and fog machines,
Miss Rex
Hello, my name is: Energizer Bunny
So today. Was a very, very good day. Very little was accomplished school-wise or internship-wise or anything-really-wise, although I did finally bully myself into writing some new material for the novel. It's been slow going. Even though writing and creating are what I love to do, once I'm out of practice getting back to it is excruciating. But write I did, and I also finished a series of maps last night showing the expansion of my imaginary world from creation to the present. In all that's about 6-8 maps of varying sizes and complexity. I'm somewhat elated from all that, but depressed thinking about the other things I'm neglecting in order to make progress with the thing I love.
But that wasn't the reason today was so good, or at least, not the only reason. I ate lunch outside with Taz (my roomie), Misty (a girl who lives on my floor and shares my unabashed love for Pokémon), and the guy I played private eye with the night the power went out, who shall henceforth be known as Cripple, even when his foot gets better and he ditches the crutches he has acquired since our first meeting. Cripple squished a spider that was crawling on me and I squealed like a little girl because he got icky spider guts all over my foot. He thought it was the funniest thing ever. I didn't. Then Cripple and I went to the beach for like 20 minutes and talked randomly about relationships (more specifically, his success at having one and my failure to do so), but we had to rush back because I had class.
After class I sat under a cherry tree and wrote some more until it was time to go to Zumba, which, coupled with the 82º weather and humidity, inspired me to try my first iced coffee (it was goooooood) and I have been totally out there ever since. Taz and I went for a walk around the quad and I frolicked and sang and laughed at things that weren't funny and threw my shoes in the air. I also pointed out that the side of one of the buildings we passed had a sort of cross on it and marveled that I had never noticed it before.
"It's more of a double cross, really," said Taz.
To which I ever-so-logically replied, "It's for a double Jesus!"
Coming back into Ferrin, I ran into another friend of mine and convinced him to come with me on another walk. I was still doing the Energizer Bunny thing (that is, going and going and going). I felt bad because I couldn't stop babbling about random stuff that only crazies like me would find interesting.
I decided I felt like going out to Gull Pond even though we didn't have a flashlight (you have to go through the woods to get there, which is kinda spooky at night on account of its being pitch black). Well, okay, I'll admit I'd been wanting to go out to the pond since Zumba ended because swimming would have felt really nice after that, but I think I freaked out Taz by announcing that I wanted to go skinny dipping so there went that plan. (For the record, skinny dipping was no longer "the plan;" I just wanted to go wading and have a random adventure walking in the woods at night, for it had been far too long since my last flight from the mysterious monsters of the woods. But the monsters didn't show up. They must not have been hungry for kids tonight. Or they only swim in AIDS-infested Coy Pond, which seems likely since Taz and I got chased by one near there once.)
So instead we just went swimming. The water was really nice from sitting in the sun all day, but I still got cold really fast so we headed back through the woods, at which point I remembered why people don't usually swim with pants on: It's squelchy.
Peace, love and skinny dipping,
Miss Rex
But that wasn't the reason today was so good, or at least, not the only reason. I ate lunch outside with Taz (my roomie), Misty (a girl who lives on my floor and shares my unabashed love for Pokémon), and the guy I played private eye with the night the power went out, who shall henceforth be known as Cripple, even when his foot gets better and he ditches the crutches he has acquired since our first meeting. Cripple squished a spider that was crawling on me and I squealed like a little girl because he got icky spider guts all over my foot. He thought it was the funniest thing ever. I didn't. Then Cripple and I went to the beach for like 20 minutes and talked randomly about relationships (more specifically, his success at having one and my failure to do so), but we had to rush back because I had class.
After class I sat under a cherry tree and wrote some more until it was time to go to Zumba, which, coupled with the 82º weather and humidity, inspired me to try my first iced coffee (it was goooooood) and I have been totally out there ever since. Taz and I went for a walk around the quad and I frolicked and sang and laughed at things that weren't funny and threw my shoes in the air. I also pointed out that the side of one of the buildings we passed had a sort of cross on it and marveled that I had never noticed it before.
"It's more of a double cross, really," said Taz.
To which I ever-so-logically replied, "It's for a double Jesus!"
Coming back into Ferrin, I ran into another friend of mine and convinced him to come with me on another walk. I was still doing the Energizer Bunny thing (that is, going and going and going). I felt bad because I couldn't stop babbling about random stuff that only crazies like me would find interesting.
I decided I felt like going out to Gull Pond even though we didn't have a flashlight (you have to go through the woods to get there, which is kinda spooky at night on account of its being pitch black). Well, okay, I'll admit I'd been wanting to go out to the pond since Zumba ended because swimming would have felt really nice after that, but I think I freaked out Taz by announcing that I wanted to go skinny dipping so there went that plan. (For the record, skinny dipping was no longer "the plan;" I just wanted to go wading and have a random adventure walking in the woods at night, for it had been far too long since my last flight from the mysterious monsters of the woods. But the monsters didn't show up. They must not have been hungry for kids tonight. Or they only swim in AIDS-infested Coy Pond, which seems likely since Taz and I got chased by one near there once.)
So instead we just went swimming. The water was really nice from sitting in the sun all day, but I still got cold really fast so we headed back through the woods, at which point I remembered why people don't usually swim with pants on: It's squelchy.
Peace, love and skinny dipping,
Miss Rex
In which the lamb overtakes the lion (at least for now)
What a fabulous week it's been! Sunny and 60º+ since Wednesday! Let's take a look at the highlights, shall we?
10. Eating ice cream makes sense again!
9. The grass is not white. The sky is not white. Everything feels less dead.
8. I can walk outside in just a sweatshirt without feeling compelled to curl up in fetal position.
7. Birds! Birds singing, birds flying around, yes, even birds pooping on the quad!
6. Grass. Smells. Amazing.
5. Peepers!! I can't even tell you how many winter nights I lulled myself to sleep just imagining their incessant cheep-cheeping, and now they're here!
4. BEAAAACHHH! Salty air, warm dunes, and best of all, SANDY FEET!
3. Ultimate Frisbee. If you don't know what it is, watch this.
2. Going barefoot everywhere!
1. People! Everyone's outside and sun-drunk, which makes finding things to do a no-brainer. Nobody wants to do work when it's like this. People simply don't go to classes. I was lucky to have my only class canceled today... and nothing can top the moment of epiphany when I realized it was canceled.
I must say my hopes were not high on Monday when my GPS took me on a wild goose chase through Medford in the pouring rain. After telling me to turn left at a No Left Turn sign, which it does at least once a trip (that or directing me down one way streets... the wrong way), it decided that the best route to the building I needed to get to was to go around 3.5 sides of a block, amounting to over a mile of walking in the wind and rain with an already-mangled umbrella. I was late for the interview I was conducting, looked like crap when I got there, and was so cold that once I got inside my nose started leaking, just to add to the embarrassment. BUT, the interview was way fun, and the article got picked up by TWO sections of the Boston Globe regionals.
And then the sun came out (hence my sudden Disapparation after I promised to post this week)! I spent a lot of time at the beach IN SPITE OF THE GODDAMN WIND and played my first game of ultimate frisbee in way-too-many-months. Can you say glorious?
But today was the best yet. I ran into a friend I hadn't hung out with since he helped me make a 30-second PSA for fair trade coffee last spring. I joined him and his friends for lunch on the grassy space outside of Lane, and then a few of us went out into the woods to take pictures. For a change, I was not the one wielding the camera (mine happens to be broken).
The trails were still quite messy from the rain on Monday (and the entire month preceding Monday). The two guys who were there went barefoot, and since I hadn't felt like going back to Ferrin for my galoshes, I did the same. It was delightfully icky! Playing in the mud was never something I did as a child. I was very clean. We do have a rainy season swamp behind our house where my friends and I used to play, but the point of the game was always to build bridges over the muck or find ways around it. Falling in always sucked. So at first I was quite displeased with my choice of footwear, but I quickly learned that mud is incredible. End of story.
On the way back, one of the boys caught a garter snake (note, I have no qualms about using the word "boys" for these twenty-year-old men; they were certainly acting as such, and that is not a negative statement). It was adorable! (The snake, that is. Not the boys.) I was so excited to pet it because earlier this semester I was going to get a pet snake before I found out you have to keep them in freaking climate-controlled terrariums. But the poor little guy was scared and did that smelly musk thing, and it made him feel all slimy. Ick.
All of the above have conspired to make me an incredibly happy person this week. And also a rather sunburnt and very tired one. But we have one sunny day left before the lion cows the lamb back into submission, and I shall not let a moment go to waste!
Peace, love and step-rock-step,
Miss Rex
10. Eating ice cream makes sense again!
9. The grass is not white. The sky is not white. Everything feels less dead.
8. I can walk outside in just a sweatshirt without feeling compelled to curl up in fetal position.
7. Birds! Birds singing, birds flying around, yes, even birds pooping on the quad!
6. Grass. Smells. Amazing.
5. Peepers!! I can't even tell you how many winter nights I lulled myself to sleep just imagining their incessant cheep-cheeping, and now they're here!
4. BEAAAACHHH! Salty air, warm dunes, and best of all, SANDY FEET!
3. Ultimate Frisbee. If you don't know what it is, watch this.
2. Going barefoot everywhere!
1. People! Everyone's outside and sun-drunk, which makes finding things to do a no-brainer. Nobody wants to do work when it's like this. People simply don't go to classes. I was lucky to have my only class canceled today... and nothing can top the moment of epiphany when I realized it was canceled.
I must say my hopes were not high on Monday when my GPS took me on a wild goose chase through Medford in the pouring rain. After telling me to turn left at a No Left Turn sign, which it does at least once a trip (that or directing me down one way streets... the wrong way), it decided that the best route to the building I needed to get to was to go around 3.5 sides of a block, amounting to over a mile of walking in the wind and rain with an already-mangled umbrella. I was late for the interview I was conducting, looked like crap when I got there, and was so cold that once I got inside my nose started leaking, just to add to the embarrassment. BUT, the interview was way fun, and the article got picked up by TWO sections of the Boston Globe regionals.
And then the sun came out (hence my sudden Disapparation after I promised to post this week)! I spent a lot of time at the beach IN SPITE OF THE GODDAMN WIND and played my first game of ultimate frisbee in way-too-many-months. Can you say glorious?
But today was the best yet. I ran into a friend I hadn't hung out with since he helped me make a 30-second PSA for fair trade coffee last spring. I joined him and his friends for lunch on the grassy space outside of Lane, and then a few of us went out into the woods to take pictures. For a change, I was not the one wielding the camera (mine happens to be broken).
The trails were still quite messy from the rain on Monday (and the entire month preceding Monday). The two guys who were there went barefoot, and since I hadn't felt like going back to Ferrin for my galoshes, I did the same. It was delightfully icky! Playing in the mud was never something I did as a child. I was very clean. We do have a rainy season swamp behind our house where my friends and I used to play, but the point of the game was always to build bridges over the muck or find ways around it. Falling in always sucked. So at first I was quite displeased with my choice of footwear, but I quickly learned that mud is incredible. End of story.
On the way back, one of the boys caught a garter snake (note, I have no qualms about using the word "boys" for these twenty-year-old men; they were certainly acting as such, and that is not a negative statement). It was adorable! (The snake, that is. Not the boys.) I was so excited to pet it because earlier this semester I was going to get a pet snake before I found out you have to keep them in freaking climate-controlled terrariums. But the poor little guy was scared and did that smelly musk thing, and it made him feel all slimy. Ick.
All of the above have conspired to make me an incredibly happy person this week. And also a rather sunburnt and very tired one. But we have one sunny day left before the lion cows the lamb back into submission, and I shall not let a moment go to waste!
Peace, love and step-rock-step,
Miss Rex
Damage Report: cones up, power out, pants down
I am at Starbucks. Yeah, I know. I never go to Starbucks. They are overrated, overpriced, and don't even make very good coffee in my opinion. And apparently EVERY parent on the north shore takes their kids here in the morning... huh?? But the Go-Co has no power today, and thus all networks are down. Even here I can't get my email. And my battery still has 63% to go before it's fully charged, which it has to be before I go back because there is no electricity at Go-Co. Well... I guess there's the new science building in a pinch.
I happened to be hyped up on coffee when shit (and trees) went down last night and thus was compelled to run around campus playing private eye. I'm not sure when the adrenaline replaced the caffeine. It seemed like a sweet deal last night, but both have worn off now and Miss Rex is ready for naptime. But before I pass out, here's the scoop:
“It was a dark and stormy night” doesn’t even begin to cover it. 40-50-mile-per-hour winds lashed rain against the windows; students sitting nearby kept wary eyes on the glass. Here in the Fishbowl, Taz and I closed the blinds for protection after watching the glass bow inwards like mere canvas. Then, around 11PM, a tree fell near the chapel, taking out some wires and cutting off electricity across campus.
“We’ll definitely be without power until at least the morning,” Go-Po Officer Cherry said at about 1:00 this morning. “National Grid hasn’t even responded because it looks like a bomb went off in the next town.” Other officials estimate that we could be without power until Friday afternoon. Authorities decided to cancel classes for Friday, February 25.
Because of the fallen tree, the main exit from campus was blocked off with cones and traffic was redirected through what, under normal circumstances, is an entrance only.
Newer residence halls, such as Chase and the buildings on the hill, were fully lit by generators, but the HUD dorms were completely dark. Students living in road halls were re-located.
“We want to make sure all the dorms have heat and fire alarms,” said Cherry.
In addition to the tree by the chapel, a second tree fell on the Emery side of Jenks, breaking a fourth floor window and gouging the bricks. Some of the trunk has been cleared, but the ground is still littered with debris and one branch settled on the roof. Another tree fell in front of Frost. Three more went down beside the road that goes past Drew Hall.
The wind ripped the front right door off the chapel, exposing live wires that officials have since shut off. But most mysteriously of all, a chunk of the public safety building now lies in the middle of the school’s main entrance. No trees fell in the vicinity. “It’s like the wind just ripped a chunk of stone off the building and hurled it into the street,” said one officer.
The blackout brought out the best and worst of students. Some halls used it as an excuse to bond: students in Ferrin had homework parties in the generator-lit hallways and played games in the first floor lobby. Others went puddle jumping and streaking. One account even said that students were looting the dining hall, although this has not been confirmed. Apparently Go-Co students can get away with anything in a crisis, and those of us who are smart realized this and took full advantage. I'm not one of the smart ones.
This guy I befriended during my sleuthing adventure summed it up as poetically as he was able at 2:30AM, after a night that most of Go-Co will find hard to forget: “The wind came through, the trees came down, the cones went up, and the pants went down.”
Now I am going back to sleep, since I got about four hours before rushing out to the only place I could think of with WiFi to break the story to the school paper. In retrospect my mad dash here was pointless because no one on campus has the Internet to read the story anyway and most of the damage is pretty self-evident. It was also poorly thought out because Panera would have been open by now and their wireless doesn't cost money...
I happened to be hyped up on coffee when shit (and trees) went down last night and thus was compelled to run around campus playing private eye. I'm not sure when the adrenaline replaced the caffeine. It seemed like a sweet deal last night, but both have worn off now and Miss Rex is ready for naptime. But before I pass out, here's the scoop:
“It was a dark and stormy night” doesn’t even begin to cover it. 40-50-mile-per-hour winds lashed rain against the windows; students sitting nearby kept wary eyes on the glass. Here in the Fishbowl, Taz and I closed the blinds for protection after watching the glass bow inwards like mere canvas. Then, around 11PM, a tree fell near the chapel, taking out some wires and cutting off electricity across campus.
“We’ll definitely be without power until at least the morning,” Go-Po Officer Cherry said at about 1:00 this morning. “National Grid hasn’t even responded because it looks like a bomb went off in the next town.” Other officials estimate that we could be without power until Friday afternoon. Authorities decided to cancel classes for Friday, February 25.
Because of the fallen tree, the main exit from campus was blocked off with cones and traffic was redirected through what, under normal circumstances, is an entrance only.
Newer residence halls, such as Chase and the buildings on the hill, were fully lit by generators, but the HUD dorms were completely dark. Students living in road halls were re-located.
“We want to make sure all the dorms have heat and fire alarms,” said Cherry.
In addition to the tree by the chapel, a second tree fell on the Emery side of Jenks, breaking a fourth floor window and gouging the bricks. Some of the trunk has been cleared, but the ground is still littered with debris and one branch settled on the roof. Another tree fell in front of Frost. Three more went down beside the road that goes past Drew Hall.
The wind ripped the front right door off the chapel, exposing live wires that officials have since shut off. But most mysteriously of all, a chunk of the public safety building now lies in the middle of the school’s main entrance. No trees fell in the vicinity. “It’s like the wind just ripped a chunk of stone off the building and hurled it into the street,” said one officer.
The blackout brought out the best and worst of students. Some halls used it as an excuse to bond: students in Ferrin had homework parties in the generator-lit hallways and played games in the first floor lobby. Others went puddle jumping and streaking. One account even said that students were looting the dining hall, although this has not been confirmed. Apparently Go-Co students can get away with anything in a crisis, and those of us who are smart realized this and took full advantage. I'm not one of the smart ones.
This guy I befriended during my sleuthing adventure summed it up as poetically as he was able at 2:30AM, after a night that most of Go-Co will find hard to forget: “The wind came through, the trees came down, the cones went up, and the pants went down.”
Now I am going back to sleep, since I got about four hours before rushing out to the only place I could think of with WiFi to break the story to the school paper. In retrospect my mad dash here was pointless because no one on campus has the Internet to read the story anyway and most of the damage is pretty self-evident. It was also poorly thought out because Panera would have been open by now and their wireless doesn't cost money...
Short Story Long... pt. 1
I don't know about anyone else, but I am immensely relieved to bid the holidays adieu. This season usually holds a lot of magic for me, but for some reason it just didn't click this year. It was December 26th before I even realized that, in spite of partaking in all the usual traditions, I had completely missed Christmas. And I was okay with that.
In fact, I'm really glad it's over. Soon we'll be able to drive places without getting stuck in shopper traffic (which will be fab since my closest friends live half an hour away from me... in opposite directions). We'll be able to bum around at the mall without getting stampeded. Of course, all the gyms will be packed with New Years Resolutionists in a week's time and working out will suck for the next month, but at least things are starting to get back to normal.
I've slept a lot this break and have been complaining perpetually of my boredom, but it's actually been a pretty eventful vacation thus far. I shall attempt to summarize, but you know this is going to become an epic game of Short Story Long.
Episode One:
Last Saturday I was sick of my family and needed to get out of the house (I'd been home for a day and half so far) so I called Wanda, who was still at school in the city, and said to get ready for an adventure; Adam Ezra was playing a show all afternoon and we were going. I had just decided. Well, no, I decided in November that I wanted to go; I just failed at planning to do so until the thing had already started.
So we get to this thing. It's upstairs in a brewery I saw Adam at once before with my roomies and Jo-Yo. But that time it had been late at night and there had been lots of drunken grown-ups dancing like horny teenagers. One woman lassoing men with her scarf particularly stands out in my memory. We kept a tally of how many people she danced with, giving her extra points for dancing with multiple guys at the same time. We didn't know what else to do with her. Oh and a creepy old guy may or may not have hit on Mnomanoms.
That night, Adam played two of my requests, Another Sunshine and Desperate Plea from the Heart of a Shit-head. The second one is not really a noisy brewery kind of song and the rest of his band didn't know how to play it, so Adam played it solo acoustic. I felt so special. Then after the show I talked him into sending me an mp3 of it even though he's only got a rough copy so far. This has not happened yet, and I suspect it's because he's been drunk both times I've actually spoken to him about said mp3.
Which brings me back to the original story of last weekend with Wanda. Adam had already been playing for a while when we got there and took an intermission just a few songs later. When I went to say hello, he remembered me and that he owed me an mp3. I was impressed. We didn't talk for long, but after the second half of his set I went over to say goodbye and ended up writing a reminder on his hand in bright orange Sharpie. Wanda was disappointed later on when I told her I wasn't giving him my phone number. She thinks we should get together. Aaand I might have a little crush on him, as well... ^_^
But I didn't have much hope of seeing the mp3 because once again, Adam had had a bit to drink. I can tell because he does what I do when I've had a bit to drink - i.e., he gets rather cozy with everyone regardless of how well he actually knows them. I got about five hugs from him before leaving that day (and he told me the way I spell "Mandii" is cute ^_^).
Wanda and I both made it home before a foot and a half of snow swamped the entire state. And that concludes adventure number one. Lest this post become so long that no one wants to read it, I shall leave off there. Stay tuned for episode two, in which I and everyone I know had our minds blown by Avatar.
Peace, love and The Half-Blood Prince,
Miss Rex
In fact, I'm really glad it's over. Soon we'll be able to drive places without getting stuck in shopper traffic (which will be fab since my closest friends live half an hour away from me... in opposite directions). We'll be able to bum around at the mall without getting stampeded. Of course, all the gyms will be packed with New Years Resolutionists in a week's time and working out will suck for the next month, but at least things are starting to get back to normal.
I've slept a lot this break and have been complaining perpetually of my boredom, but it's actually been a pretty eventful vacation thus far. I shall attempt to summarize, but you know this is going to become an epic game of Short Story Long.
Episode One:
Last Saturday I was sick of my family and needed to get out of the house (I'd been home for a day and half so far) so I called Wanda, who was still at school in the city, and said to get ready for an adventure; Adam Ezra was playing a show all afternoon and we were going. I had just decided. Well, no, I decided in November that I wanted to go; I just failed at planning to do so until the thing had already started.
So we get to this thing. It's upstairs in a brewery I saw Adam at once before with my roomies and Jo-Yo. But that time it had been late at night and there had been lots of drunken grown-ups dancing like horny teenagers. One woman lassoing men with her scarf particularly stands out in my memory. We kept a tally of how many people she danced with, giving her extra points for dancing with multiple guys at the same time. We didn't know what else to do with her. Oh and a creepy old guy may or may not have hit on Mnomanoms.
That night, Adam played two of my requests, Another Sunshine and Desperate Plea from the Heart of a Shit-head. The second one is not really a noisy brewery kind of song and the rest of his band didn't know how to play it, so Adam played it solo acoustic. I felt so special. Then after the show I talked him into sending me an mp3 of it even though he's only got a rough copy so far. This has not happened yet, and I suspect it's because he's been drunk both times I've actually spoken to him about said mp3.
Which brings me back to the original story of last weekend with Wanda. Adam had already been playing for a while when we got there and took an intermission just a few songs later. When I went to say hello, he remembered me and that he owed me an mp3. I was impressed. We didn't talk for long, but after the second half of his set I went over to say goodbye and ended up writing a reminder on his hand in bright orange Sharpie. Wanda was disappointed later on when I told her I wasn't giving him my phone number. She thinks we should get together. Aaand I might have a little crush on him, as well... ^_^
But I didn't have much hope of seeing the mp3 because once again, Adam had had a bit to drink. I can tell because he does what I do when I've had a bit to drink - i.e., he gets rather cozy with everyone regardless of how well he actually knows them. I got about five hugs from him before leaving that day (and he told me the way I spell "Mandii" is cute ^_^).
Wanda and I both made it home before a foot and a half of snow swamped the entire state. And that concludes adventure number one. Lest this post become so long that no one wants to read it, I shall leave off there. Stay tuned for episode two, in which I and everyone I know had our minds blown by Avatar.
Peace, love and The Half-Blood Prince,
Miss Rex
Magical Musical Road Trip Extravaganza pt. 4
My family used to play a cheesy game at the dinner table, where we'd go around the table and everyone got a chance to say the highlight and lowlight of his or her day. In Rex-family fashion, allow me to share with you the high and low lights of Rev Gen 2009. Let's look on the bright side first.
We sat in on Paul Colman's set purely because we wanted to have good seats for Jon Foreman's set, which was next. But Paul turned out to be one of the most entertaining individuals I've had the good fortune to see. We later talked to him and he said he'd love to come play a show at our school. WIN!
Jon Foreman played us a song about being an outlaw, which he literally wrote in his sleep. He also played a number on some wacky variation of a harp, which a friend had given him earlier that day and which he hadn't even had a chance to tune. Somehow the song was still brilliant. Probably because he's Jon.
No one moshed for Relient K, which I'm sure was as sad for the band as it was for me. Nonetheless, it was as great a set as always, made all the more amusing by the fact that the lead singer (Matt Thiessen)'s hair gets more wild every time I see them.
Switchfoot closed out the day with a set that would've sent the Richter scale scrambling for cover. Jon alternated between climbing the scaffolding and swinging drummer Chad Butler's cymbals around the stage, and pausing to ask everyone to look up at the stars for a minute while words of wisdomatic gold dripped from his lips. "We don't know why the dry times come," he said, "but those are the times that force us to dig deeper below the surface."
If you want all the juicy details (and lots of exciting pictures!), go here and here! Remember to click on "Entries" when you get there!
Now for the lowlight. I think this accusatory letter, which I sent to the people at Rev Gen last night, pretty much sums it up:
"...we purchased Switchfoot Interview Passes at $15 apiece and we did not receive what we paid for. The item was called "Interview Pass" on the website. So, naturally, we walked into Tent 7 expecting to see an interview with Switchfoot. Wouldn't you? Imagine our disappointment, then, when only half the band was present and the frontman, the one responsible for writing the songs, was conspicuously absent. All right, there's a little disclaimer at the bottom of the ticket saying interview times are subject to artist availability, so it would hardly be fair to lodge a complain purely on that basis.
But then the interview was cut off after ten minutes of surface-level questions whose answers could have been found on Wikipedia in under two minutes, so that the man hosting the interview can tell us about his daughter who died in a car accident and how her death taught him to seek hope from God. A wonderful message. I truly am sorry for his loss and I truly am glad that he found hope in spite of it. But this was not the time or place to discuss such matters, as the fans under the tent had paid money to watch an interview with Switchfoot. And then he had the gall to try and convert us to Christianity. At a Christian festival.
His sermonette was out of place and condescending. I have never felt so emotionally manipulated in my life. Moreover, it was dishonest and unjust to take kids' money and not deliver what was promised. This is the least Christian thing anyone has done to me in quite some time...."
Total LAMESAUCE, right?! And worse than the injustice to us, it was disrespectful toward the band (or anyway, the half of them that were there.) I know this because I'm a journalist. You don't ask people questions you could've looked up answers to. It's a waste of the interviewee's time and it makes you look unprepared, uninformed and unprofessional. The poor guys were bored silly. Joanna and I agreed that Drew was definitely texting under the table.
But the rest of the day was so wicked awesome that getting ripped off, driving 16 hours, and sleeping just ten across the entire weekend WAS SO FANTABULOUSLY WORTH IT!
We sat in on Paul Colman's set purely because we wanted to have good seats for Jon Foreman's set, which was next. But Paul turned out to be one of the most entertaining individuals I've had the good fortune to see. We later talked to him and he said he'd love to come play a show at our school. WIN!
Jon Foreman played us a song about being an outlaw, which he literally wrote in his sleep. He also played a number on some wacky variation of a harp, which a friend had given him earlier that day and which he hadn't even had a chance to tune. Somehow the song was still brilliant. Probably because he's Jon.
No one moshed for Relient K, which I'm sure was as sad for the band as it was for me. Nonetheless, it was as great a set as always, made all the more amusing by the fact that the lead singer (Matt Thiessen)'s hair gets more wild every time I see them.
Switchfoot closed out the day with a set that would've sent the Richter scale scrambling for cover. Jon alternated between climbing the scaffolding and swinging drummer Chad Butler's cymbals around the stage, and pausing to ask everyone to look up at the stars for a minute while words of wisdomatic gold dripped from his lips. "We don't know why the dry times come," he said, "but those are the times that force us to dig deeper below the surface."
If you want all the juicy details (and lots of exciting pictures!), go here and here! Remember to click on "Entries" when you get there!
Now for the lowlight. I think this accusatory letter, which I sent to the people at Rev Gen last night, pretty much sums it up:
"...we purchased Switchfoot Interview Passes at $15 apiece and we did not receive what we paid for. The item was called "Interview Pass" on the website. So, naturally, we walked into Tent 7 expecting to see an interview with Switchfoot. Wouldn't you? Imagine our disappointment, then, when only half the band was present and the frontman, the one responsible for writing the songs, was conspicuously absent. All right, there's a little disclaimer at the bottom of the ticket saying interview times are subject to artist availability, so it would hardly be fair to lodge a complain purely on that basis.
But then the interview was cut off after ten minutes of surface-level questions whose answers could have been found on Wikipedia in under two minutes, so that the man hosting the interview can tell us about his daughter who died in a car accident and how her death taught him to seek hope from God. A wonderful message. I truly am sorry for his loss and I truly am glad that he found hope in spite of it. But this was not the time or place to discuss such matters, as the fans under the tent had paid money to watch an interview with Switchfoot. And then he had the gall to try and convert us to Christianity. At a Christian festival.
His sermonette was out of place and condescending. I have never felt so emotionally manipulated in my life. Moreover, it was dishonest and unjust to take kids' money and not deliver what was promised. This is the least Christian thing anyone has done to me in quite some time...."
Total LAMESAUCE, right?! And worse than the injustice to us, it was disrespectful toward the band (or anyway, the half of them that were there.) I know this because I'm a journalist. You don't ask people questions you could've looked up answers to. It's a waste of the interviewee's time and it makes you look unprepared, uninformed and unprofessional. The poor guys were bored silly. Joanna and I agreed that Drew was definitely texting under the table.
But the rest of the day was so wicked awesome that getting ripped off, driving 16 hours, and sleeping just ten across the entire weekend WAS SO FANTABULOUSLY WORTH IT!
Magical Musical Road Trip Extravaganza pt. 1
What a weekend! It's going to take more than one post to chronicle the epicness of our magical musical road trip extravaganza. So I shall begin with the road trip, and after that we'll move on to the magic and the music. Sound good? Good.
While driving through the lovely state of PA, we amused ourselves by trying to pronounce the silly names on the exit signs. Or rather, I amused both of us, as Jo-Yo is a Pennsylvania native and already knew how to say it right. Here are a few that I couldn't resist sharing, absent some of the best because we just weren't quick enough with the camera.
We've got Fogelsville, home of the old fogeys; we've got Kutztown, which is full of puking Germans; we've got Viktorkrumsville, which I'm sure Hermione would be thrilled to visit; we've got Hell and Bethlehem sharing a stoop; we've got the home of the singing cow. Sorry about the lack of photo evidence of such gems as Lackawanna University (I imagine all the students there wake up in the morning, think about going to class, and decide they just don't wanna) and the fruity Mexican town of Avoca(do). Also missing is the utterly unpronounceable "Schuyllkill." Two syllables. Swear to god. But my favorite of all is the creative interpretation of "Wisconsin" in the center of the collage. I thought we were in PA...?
Love, Miss Rex
Detailed accounts of music, magic and madness at A Dustland Fairytale!
Music: "If anyone ever wrote a love song, it was Jon Foreman." Read more
Magic: "I barely had enough time to tell Tim that I think he's one of the greatest bassists mankind has ever seen, not to mention that when you say something in that amount of time it doesn't exactly come across as sincere..." Read more
Madness: Coming soon!
Note: the new Dustland Fairytale is a little quirky. After clicking the link, click on "Entries" and it should go right to the post you want!
While driving through the lovely state of PA, we amused ourselves by trying to pronounce the silly names on the exit signs. Or rather, I amused both of us, as Jo-Yo is a Pennsylvania native and already knew how to say it right. Here are a few that I couldn't resist sharing, absent some of the best because we just weren't quick enough with the camera.
We've got Fogelsville, home of the old fogeys; we've got Kutztown, which is full of puking Germans; we've got Viktorkrumsville, which I'm sure Hermione would be thrilled to visit; we've got Hell and Bethlehem sharing a stoop; we've got the home of the singing cow. Sorry about the lack of photo evidence of such gems as Lackawanna University (I imagine all the students there wake up in the morning, think about going to class, and decide they just don't wanna) and the fruity Mexican town of Avoca(do). Also missing is the utterly unpronounceable "Schuyllkill." Two syllables. Swear to god. But my favorite of all is the creative interpretation of "Wisconsin" in the center of the collage. I thought we were in PA...?
Love, Miss Rex
Detailed accounts of music, magic and madness at A Dustland Fairytale!
Music: "If anyone ever wrote a love song, it was Jon Foreman." Read more
Magic: "I barely had enough time to tell Tim that I think he's one of the greatest bassists mankind has ever seen, not to mention that when you say something in that amount of time it doesn't exactly come across as sincere..." Read more
Madness: Coming soon!
Note: the new Dustland Fairytale is a little quirky. After clicking the link, click on "Entries" and it should go right to the post you want!
Actually I'm not a very good lesbian.
Context: Visitation policy
I find it ironic and amusing (after all, the two are basically synonyms) that while the rest of my floor was in the RD's apartment last night, eating ice cream and celebrating that we knew school rules better than any of the other halls in my building, I was upstairs breaking lord knows how many rules in my room (and we're not even counting the upholstered furniture). Door shut while Boyfriend was there. Changing while Boyfriend was there. Oh the scandal. Except not, which is perhaps the greatest irony (or tragedy?) of all.
No no, I take it back. The greatest irony of all was that, for all the rules in place around here, we still stumbled upon a couple hooking up in the woods not ten yards from the beginning of the path, in plain view of the Go-Po if they had chanced to look. Oh, so that's what Carrie meant by "sketchy, walk-around-the-pond couples." It's funny because when Boyfriend and I "walk around the pond," we actually just walk around the pond.
I knew things had gone too far when it came time for Boyfriend to go home and I walked him out to his car. We bantered a little bit and he kept giving me raspberries, but ultimately we kissed good night. That was when the Go-Po showed up with a flashing-blue-light local police escort.
Excuses were already racing through my mind. Semantics: it wasn't an "excessive public display of affection," as no one else was there and it was dark, thus making said display of affection not public. Nor was it excessive in any way (except for the volume of Boyfriend's raspberries). I thought we had a pretty good case.
But the cars parked a little ways away from us and the officers started talking to someone on the other side of the lot, clearly not interested or even aware of our supposed transgressions in the nearby shadows. There didn't appear to be any sort of problem that would necessitate the flashing lights. I tend to forget that turning on those gaudy beams is probably the pinnacle of excitement for an officer on a regular shift around here. You do your thing, bro.
I find it ironic and amusing (after all, the two are basically synonyms) that while the rest of my floor was in the RD's apartment last night, eating ice cream and celebrating that we knew school rules better than any of the other halls in my building, I was upstairs breaking lord knows how many rules in my room (and we're not even counting the upholstered furniture). Door shut while Boyfriend was there. Changing while Boyfriend was there. Oh the scandal. Except not, which is perhaps the greatest irony (or tragedy?) of all.
No no, I take it back. The greatest irony of all was that, for all the rules in place around here, we still stumbled upon a couple hooking up in the woods not ten yards from the beginning of the path, in plain view of the Go-Po if they had chanced to look. Oh, so that's what Carrie meant by "sketchy, walk-around-the-pond couples." It's funny because when Boyfriend and I "walk around the pond," we actually just walk around the pond.
I knew things had gone too far when it came time for Boyfriend to go home and I walked him out to his car. We bantered a little bit and he kept giving me raspberries, but ultimately we kissed good night. That was when the Go-Po showed up with a flashing-blue-light local police escort.
Excuses were already racing through my mind. Semantics: it wasn't an "excessive public display of affection," as no one else was there and it was dark, thus making said display of affection not public. Nor was it excessive in any way (except for the volume of Boyfriend's raspberries). I thought we had a pretty good case.
But the cars parked a little ways away from us and the officers started talking to someone on the other side of the lot, clearly not interested or even aware of our supposed transgressions in the nearby shadows. There didn't appear to be any sort of problem that would necessitate the flashing lights. I tend to forget that turning on those gaudy beams is probably the pinnacle of excitement for an officer on a regular shift around here. You do your thing, bro.
Ikea, do you kea?
I know, I know... bad pun, especially since Mama Swede says it's not even pronounced "eye-kea." Gotta trust the Swedish lady on this one. BUT BACK ON TOPIC. Have you ever been there? Pants down, most terrifying shopping experience of my life! The building was big enough to host the Vans Warped Tour, comprising a massive showroom and an even more massive warehouse, where you have to go track down the item you found on the showroom floor by aisle (#1-1000) and bin number. Then you gotta lug the furniture all the way to the checkout, where you get to sit in the shopper's equivalent of rush hour WHILE STARING AT THE SCRUMPTIOUS FOOD BEING SOLD FOR SICKENINGLY LOW PRICES JUST BEYOND THE CASH REGISTERS.
All of this for a CD storage rack. Would you believe nobody sells them anymore? We tried Wal*Mart, Target, Sears, F.Y.E., Home Goods, and some local furniture consignment shops, all to no avail. The problem is all this newfangled mp3 nonsense. If people would just buy compact discs the way they did in the 1990s, stores would carry space-effective storage racks for them, but NOOO. CDs are SO 2000-and-late. We've got to be PIRATES, yo!
The Swedish Mama pronounces it "Ick-ea," and I must say... I like that name better.
All of this for a CD storage rack. Would you believe nobody sells them anymore? We tried Wal*Mart, Target, Sears, F.Y.E., Home Goods, and some local furniture consignment shops, all to no avail. The problem is all this newfangled mp3 nonsense. If people would just buy compact discs the way they did in the 1990s, stores would carry space-effective storage racks for them, but NOOO. CDs are SO 2000-and-late. We've got to be PIRATES, yo!
The Swedish Mama pronounces it "Ick-ea," and I must say... I like that name better.
Everything is always for the band.
This is the second update I promised earlier this week. You see? I keep my word (usually ^_^).
The Spontaneous Concert Enthusiast called me up the other day around noon to ask if I wanted to go to a show that night, and of course, that's an offer I can't refuse, even if I don't know the band. So we drove about an hour to this sweet-in-a-really-tacky-way little venue to see a band called Kiros.
Except when we got there, the place was still closed. The doors were supposed to have opened, but even the bands hadn't gotten inside yet. SCE sort of knew the guys in Kiros from the time he met them at Soulfest and he introduced me to a couple of them.
Finally someone opened the place and we helped unload the equipment from the trailer. I was freezing because I never bring anything into concerts, so I'd left my coat in SCE's car and was toting equipment wearing just a t-shirt. Well I mean, I obviously had pants on. But it was still really cold. Then Neil, who plays guitar for Kiros, let me borrow his gloves, which were big enough for me to fit both hands in one glove and looked positively ridiculous on me. So, naturally, I wore them all night and even threatened never to give them back.
SCE and I talked to Kiros a bit more while the other bands set up and played. The first thing Ryan (also guitar) said to me - and the only thing he kept saying to me all night - was that I smelled like poop. He even wrote it on the poster he signed for me. But I think I talked to Neil the most. And at least he knew how to be a nice person (i.e. he wrote on my poster that I smelled good ^_^). Not that I had a problem with Ryan being a goofball. Hello, think about the guys I hang out with at home....
The first couple sets were okay. Nothing spectacular musically, and the crowd was really tiny - like maybe 50 people? I'm bad at estimating. Anyway, SCE and a couple other people got the semblance of a mosh pit going (if 3-5 people can be considered a mosh pit) and I joined in. Because there was so much space to run around, we were going pretty fast and it was scary when we actually collided with each other. But really flipping awesome.
Kiros' set was good times. Ryan started by lighting Tyler's cymbals on fire, which created a massive fireball when he started playing. And the songs were downright catchy regardless of whether I could sing along, although Barry, the lead singer, taught us newbies some of the words so we could join in.
SCE and I helped Kiros pack out after the show. At this point, it was like half an hour to SCE's birthday and he used that fact to his advantage by inviting the guys to fast food after the show. So when we finally left around midnight, Neil came with us in SCE's car and we followed the van. But Wendy's was closed, and so was McDonald's, so we wound up at Taco Bell.
Hi, I'm a vegetarian. At least at Mickey's I could've gotten a fake-shake (they don't use real milk, I'm told). Neil recommended the apple empanada so I got that and cheese quesadillas. Then we all squished into the back of the van to eat.
Hehe, Tyler's face in this one....
Barry gives SCE a birthday hug.
Barry tried to pretend like some brownies they had in the van were actually for SCE's birthday, but they were totally sketchy brownies. I have a feeling they left out the vegetable oil or some other crucial ingredient that boys wouldn't understand the importance of. I promised to make them amazingtastic brownies someday. (If I'm going to make a habit of keeping my word, I should probably not make promises that aren't easy to keep...)
Ryan with the brownies.
Barry tries to carve SCE's name into the brownies.
After we'd all eaten and enjoyed a few good laughs at ridiculous names we made up for tours (such as "The Velocirap-tour"), it was time to go. I was having so much fun I would've stayed all night, but by then it was probably around 1:30AM and we had at least an hour's drive back to school. I totally fell asleep on the ride back. I think I even snored a little, which always happens when I fall asleep sitting up. How embarrassing. ^_~
Priceless quotes:
"So when I turned seven, she turned... existing." (Neil talking about my sister, who has the same birthday as him.)
"You smell like poop." (Ryan)
"Tour baby! We're taking your baby on tour with us!!" (Neil)
"Come on! Give me a high five!" (Ryan, chasing a little girl around trying to get her to give him a high five. But Neil told her not to, and she wouldn't even look at Ryan after that.)
"I'm not gay; I'm just in a band." (Neil)
"Oh! Excuse me for interrupting myself with that awesome fart." (Neil)
"The Rugrats Rep-tour!!" (Barry)
"The... God is our Lord and Crea-tour!" (Ryan)
Me: Can I have a sip of your soda?
Neil: Only if you call it by its proper name. Say "pop."
Me: Okay, can I have a sip of your pop?
Neil: Sure!
The Spontaneous Concert Enthusiast called me up the other day around noon to ask if I wanted to go to a show that night, and of course, that's an offer I can't refuse, even if I don't know the band. So we drove about an hour to this sweet-in-a-really-tacky-way little venue to see a band called Kiros.
Except when we got there, the place was still closed. The doors were supposed to have opened, but even the bands hadn't gotten inside yet. SCE sort of knew the guys in Kiros from the time he met them at Soulfest and he introduced me to a couple of them.
Finally someone opened the place and we helped unload the equipment from the trailer. I was freezing because I never bring anything into concerts, so I'd left my coat in SCE's car and was toting equipment wearing just a t-shirt. Well I mean, I obviously had pants on. But it was still really cold. Then Neil, who plays guitar for Kiros, let me borrow his gloves, which were big enough for me to fit both hands in one glove and looked positively ridiculous on me. So, naturally, I wore them all night and even threatened never to give them back.
SCE and I talked to Kiros a bit more while the other bands set up and played. The first thing Ryan (also guitar) said to me - and the only thing he kept saying to me all night - was that I smelled like poop. He even wrote it on the poster he signed for me. But I think I talked to Neil the most. And at least he knew how to be a nice person (i.e. he wrote on my poster that I smelled good ^_^). Not that I had a problem with Ryan being a goofball. Hello, think about the guys I hang out with at home....
The first couple sets were okay. Nothing spectacular musically, and the crowd was really tiny - like maybe 50 people? I'm bad at estimating. Anyway, SCE and a couple other people got the semblance of a mosh pit going (if 3-5 people can be considered a mosh pit) and I joined in. Because there was so much space to run around, we were going pretty fast and it was scary when we actually collided with each other. But really flipping awesome.
Kiros' set was good times. Ryan started by lighting Tyler's cymbals on fire, which created a massive fireball when he started playing. And the songs were downright catchy regardless of whether I could sing along, although Barry, the lead singer, taught us newbies some of the words so we could join in.
SCE and I helped Kiros pack out after the show. At this point, it was like half an hour to SCE's birthday and he used that fact to his advantage by inviting the guys to fast food after the show. So when we finally left around midnight, Neil came with us in SCE's car and we followed the van. But Wendy's was closed, and so was McDonald's, so we wound up at Taco Bell.
Hi, I'm a vegetarian. At least at Mickey's I could've gotten a fake-shake (they don't use real milk, I'm told). Neil recommended the apple empanada so I got that and cheese quesadillas. Then we all squished into the back of the van to eat.
Hehe, Tyler's face in this one....
Barry gives SCE a birthday hug.
Barry tried to pretend like some brownies they had in the van were actually for SCE's birthday, but they were totally sketchy brownies. I have a feeling they left out the vegetable oil or some other crucial ingredient that boys wouldn't understand the importance of. I promised to make them amazingtastic brownies someday. (If I'm going to make a habit of keeping my word, I should probably not make promises that aren't easy to keep...)
Ryan with the brownies.
Barry tries to carve SCE's name into the brownies.
After we'd all eaten and enjoyed a few good laughs at ridiculous names we made up for tours (such as "The Velocirap-tour"), it was time to go. I was having so much fun I would've stayed all night, but by then it was probably around 1:30AM and we had at least an hour's drive back to school. I totally fell asleep on the ride back. I think I even snored a little, which always happens when I fall asleep sitting up. How embarrassing. ^_~
Priceless quotes:
"So when I turned seven, she turned... existing." (Neil talking about my sister, who has the same birthday as him.)
"You smell like poop." (Ryan)
"Tour baby! We're taking your baby on tour with us!!" (Neil)
"Come on! Give me a high five!" (Ryan, chasing a little girl around trying to get her to give him a high five. But Neil told her not to, and she wouldn't even look at Ryan after that.)
"I'm not gay; I'm just in a band." (Neil)
"Oh! Excuse me for interrupting myself with that awesome fart." (Neil)
"The Rugrats Rep-tour!!" (Barry)
"The... God is our Lord and Crea-tour!" (Ryan)
Me: Can I have a sip of your soda?
Neil: Only if you call it by its proper name. Say "pop."
Me: Okay, can I have a sip of your pop?
Neil: Sure!
Nebraska
Today I got utterly, hopelessly lost following a bike trail in the woods. Based on the mental map I had of the area, I can't imagine how I wound up where I did. I followed this trail for like 45 minutes. The map in my head said I had to come out at my campus, the road my campus is on, or the road on the opposite side of the woods, which we fondly refer to as Chewbacca/Chew Tobacco Road. Either that or hit the waterfront - inevitably. None of these things had happened yet and I started to worry.
I spied a little street down a hill to my right. The hill was steep, and there wasn't a trail going down to the street, so I stayed on the path. Then I came to a car. Right in the middle of the woods. There was no road leading to it; it must have driven on the footpath, and it must have been a long, long time ago, because this retro car lay open to the world, doors busted off and half-buried in the dead leaves.
Finally getting a little sketched out, I called up Wanda, just to hear a human voice speak reason in my ear. I was glad I still had a cell phone. I was glad reception still existed. I'd gotten the impression I'd walked into some sort of time warp or something and technology was long dead, or not even invented yet. I thought I would end up like one of Isaac Marion's characters, wandering the unfamiliar woods as centuries fly by without my knowledge until suddenly I come across this TV in the middle of nowhere and find a mile-long power cord to plug it in so I can watch the silver static flicker on the screen.
Wanda and I decided I should turn around and follow the bike trail the way I'd come. I should find my way back before either dusk or rain decided to fall. I have a very good sense of relative direction - that is, I can find my way back through a maze the way I've just come. This comes in handy since I often miss signs while driving until I've passed the turn I wanted. But this maze was beyond my comprehension. There were so many little turn offs that I couldn't recognize the one I'd come from. I wished I could've thought like Hansel and Gretel and left myself some sort of clue. Instead I doubled back again and found the road. At least that HAD to lead to civilization (if civilization still existed).
I promptly stumbled upon a cornfield and thought, "Crap. I'm in the middle of frickin Nebraska now. How do these things happen to me?"
But then I found an intersection with a road I knew (it had a yellow line down the middle - I knew I was safe then) and followed that road to a little farm stand. Walking in to ask for directions, all I could think about was how much I wanted food. You'd think I'd been wandering the woods for days the way I drooled over the fresh fruit and the tantalizing prospect of guacamole. But of course, I didn't have money with me. I don't generally bring cash into the woods with me. What am I going to buy? Mushrooms?
So instead of food, I got directions to my school. I cannot imagine how I was where I was. I followed the road back to the intersection where Aaron and I scared that driver that one time we hid in the bushes. It was still a half hour walk back to my dorm from there. By the time I got to Woodland, the student overflow parking lot, my legs hurt so bad that I was going probably 1/4 mile per hour. But someone was looking out for me when I left campus with, of all random things, CAR KEYS in my pocket! I gave up on walking and drove the last 100 yards home. The end.
I spied a little street down a hill to my right. The hill was steep, and there wasn't a trail going down to the street, so I stayed on the path. Then I came to a car. Right in the middle of the woods. There was no road leading to it; it must have driven on the footpath, and it must have been a long, long time ago, because this retro car lay open to the world, doors busted off and half-buried in the dead leaves.
Finally getting a little sketched out, I called up Wanda, just to hear a human voice speak reason in my ear. I was glad I still had a cell phone. I was glad reception still existed. I'd gotten the impression I'd walked into some sort of time warp or something and technology was long dead, or not even invented yet. I thought I would end up like one of Isaac Marion's characters, wandering the unfamiliar woods as centuries fly by without my knowledge until suddenly I come across this TV in the middle of nowhere and find a mile-long power cord to plug it in so I can watch the silver static flicker on the screen.
Wanda and I decided I should turn around and follow the bike trail the way I'd come. I should find my way back before either dusk or rain decided to fall. I have a very good sense of relative direction - that is, I can find my way back through a maze the way I've just come. This comes in handy since I often miss signs while driving until I've passed the turn I wanted. But this maze was beyond my comprehension. There were so many little turn offs that I couldn't recognize the one I'd come from. I wished I could've thought like Hansel and Gretel and left myself some sort of clue. Instead I doubled back again and found the road. At least that HAD to lead to civilization (if civilization still existed).
I promptly stumbled upon a cornfield and thought, "Crap. I'm in the middle of frickin Nebraska now. How do these things happen to me?"
But then I found an intersection with a road I knew (it had a yellow line down the middle - I knew I was safe then) and followed that road to a little farm stand. Walking in to ask for directions, all I could think about was how much I wanted food. You'd think I'd been wandering the woods for days the way I drooled over the fresh fruit and the tantalizing prospect of guacamole. But of course, I didn't have money with me. I don't generally bring cash into the woods with me. What am I going to buy? Mushrooms?
So instead of food, I got directions to my school. I cannot imagine how I was where I was. I followed the road back to the intersection where Aaron and I scared that driver that one time we hid in the bushes. It was still a half hour walk back to my dorm from there. By the time I got to Woodland, the student overflow parking lot, my legs hurt so bad that I was going probably 1/4 mile per hour. But someone was looking out for me when I left campus with, of all random things, CAR KEYS in my pocket! I gave up on walking and drove the last 100 yards home. The end.
