This could go down in history as one of my most random posts ever, but here’s a list of movies that are out or coming out soon that I want to see (in no particular order):
Am I missing anything?
Also, I need to eat all the popcorn, because it is literally going out of style. For me, at least.
I just got up about an hour and a half ago, with full shadow, liner, and mascara. (Seriously, if you have issues with shadow wearing off or creasing, try Urban Decay’s Eyeshadow Primer Potion and also their eye-liner doesn’t budge. OK – enough with the unsolicited cosmetics commercial.) I tumbled straight into bed this morning sometime around 3:30 – exhausted, sticky, sore, and passed out. So, as you can see, last night was epic.
Hepcat, one of the most amazing bands I know, played at Slim’s in San Francisco last night. Despite the fact that they didn’t play my favorite song (again) their set was still beautiful and reminded me, as it always does, what love feels like. There’s just simply no way for me to feel like there is anything wrong with the world while I’m dancing at a Hepcat show. And boy did I dance. And dance. And dance. Surrounded by so many of my friends and favorite people, such enthralling harmonies, heart stopping horn work, and a crazy laid back grove, how could I not. Thankfully I had the right shoes on, and apparently the right make-up, as well.
Then we of course had to stop by Crepes-a-go-go. It’s like the icing on the cake of a great show at Slim’s. A handheld tomato, cheddar, avocado crepe at 1:00 in the morning is just the thing to set you right after hours of good times. But the night didn’t end with my crepe. We then made our way down the block to Ooh-La-La, a sixties DJ dance night. More dancing! We were also joined at the club by some of the members of Hepcat, and got to spend some more time with them. I also ran into a friend who I hadn’t seen in quite some time, and he did not recognize me – me and my silly ever changing hair color. We danced until the music got weird, too psychedelic to really groove to. Then we took what seemed like another hour to say goodbye to everyone. Many hugs all around, before limping back to my car for the ride home.
We all made it home safe, and then I collapsed.
That was an amazing night, and I felt very happy to be there, to be dancing, to hug everyone, and to just be living my sometimes crazy little life.
Just sayin’.
(I wrote this about a month ago, after I received a disturbing email. At the time, I thought that acknowledging bad behavior would only encourage it. Now, my thoughts have changed. Enjoy.)
If we haven’t talked in almost two years, and you’re still using my name to get backstage at shows, well, that makes you a psychotic bastard, in my book. You wanted out of my life. Stay out. Leave me alone. Leave my friends alone. Don’t lie to people and say that you know me just so that they’ll hang out with you. That’s pathetic. And considering that you already told the whole world that you never loved me via the internet, that you lead me on for years while I made my life around you, basically admitting you’re a worthless sack of shit and a miserable excuse for a human being, I wonder that you even bother trying to keep up appearances.
You’re a douchebag.
Just sayin’.
I am the slackerist slacker in all of blog-ville. There used to be a time when every few hours I would think to myself, that would make for an interesting story for the blog. That time was last year, apparently. Seriously. And it’s not just the blog. I just opened my journal, and I haven’t written anything in that thing in over a year.
Of course, every time I get on here I start blah blah blahing about how I’m going to write more, and how I have a good one I’ve thought of that I’ll work on just as soon as I have time. Of course I’ve forgotten all those good ideas. Of course. So here we are, quickly approaching the end of another year, and I have even less to show for it than I did last year. Gah!
So, if you’re wondering at all, I’m over here doing my thing, working, hanging out with my friends, going to shows, and pretending to be a musician.
Oh, and my camera broke, so I can’t even take any interesting pictures, but here’s one someone took of me from Halloween.
I was an Ice Princess. And since I went to The Phenomenauts’ Zombie Party, I was a Zombie Ice Princess. I came up with a pretty elaborate story about how I was the Princess Winter who pined only for one Prince who wouldn’t have her. After years of pining, she became increasingly more and more frigid and bitter until my pining was replaced with a lust for human brains.
Plus, I got to reuse that bridesmaid dress. Win!
Anyway, that’s what I’ve been up to. . . . and as for the rest, well you know.. . .
Just sayin’.
Remember that self-indulgent whine from the other day? You know, the “wah-I don’t feel like I belong” navel gazing, pretentious emo tripe?
Well, the universe reminded me why you should never give in to the urge to mope so unabashedly. Nothing good can come of it.
There I was, Wednesday morning, trolling along, minding my own business, and on my way to the shop with my car for regular maintenance type crap. Halfway up a hill, momentum suddenly stopped. My foot was still on the gas. The engine was still spinning. The car was slowing down.
The transmission on my car blew out around the corner from the shop I was taking it to for an oil change and a tire rotation. Beautiful.
Do you have any idea how much a new transmission costs? Well, decidedly less than a whole new car, so I’m going to have to figure out a way to pay for it. And the extra fun is that I have to wait for it to get here. I shouldn’t get my car back for another week.
Balls!
Just sayin’
You ever felt like you can’t seem to fit into any particular space? Yeah, I’m having that day. And I should have known. I mean, I literally got into a little bit of a fender bender this morning trying to fit into a parking space. Universe, you may now stop the interpretive dance of my emotions. M’kay! Thanks.
Ok, so it wasn’t exactly a fender bender. More like a bump. But I scuffed the paint on the other car. And yes, I left a note. Why? Because I fucking hate coming out of someplace and finding a scuff or notch or dent on my car, so why would I do that to anyone else.
I’ve been wandering around all day feeling awkward and like I just don’t belong. Not much of a stretch for a gigantic nerd-face such as myself, but it’s still not the most comfortable feeling in the world. It’s kind of like being Chapped, with a side of I Just Said the Wrong Thing for the Fiftieth Time. Maybe with a dash of Why Can’t I Do This?
So, anyway, I’m sort of in quiet, I have my headphones on so you can’t see me, hidey kind of headspace.
And of course, I don’t know what to say, other than it’s not you; it’s most definitely me. I just . . .
Don’t belong here.
There’s one hell of a blog post germinating . . . . actually, there’s two, but I’m trying to decide whether I should post one of them or not.
Stay tuned.
Friday evening, Hepcat played with Flogging Molly at The Fox in Oakland. It was my first time seeing a show there. Kayphore came with me, and we spent a lot of the time during the opening act discussing our new band, what kind of band we want to be, and how we would like to get it off the ground.
However, before I had gone out on Friday, I had slipped into my I Don’t Give A Shit Attitude. So I feel as though I may have some amends to make.
To the German girl who’s feet I absolutely clobbered while dancing to Hepcat – I’m really sorry. I’m almost as sorry that I don’t speak a lick of German, and so couldn’t even express my regrets to you.
To all the people I wrote on – you’re probably realizing now that that was a medical grade marker that I was using. I nicked it from the hospital when my dad had his surgery. It’s not washing off is it? Sorry about that.
To the guy who I made buy me that drink because he interrupted my conversation twice – your girlfriend didn’t seem to happy when she found us talking at the bar. Sorry about that. I hope you’re not in too much trouble.
To the guy I called “sweetheart” on the street – I don’t normally behave so informally towards strangers. I’m sorry . .. but seriously, call me.
Uh, and too anyone else who might have been offended or startled by my frankness, my verbal diarrhea, or my complete lack of any kind of internal censor, I apologize.
Just sayin’.
For now.
Dad is still not. For now.
The following is a list of unusual requests that I might have to make from some of my friends when I get home:
“Excuse me, but can I hide under your furniture? I think the Responsibilities may have found me.”
“Please take me somewhere now where I do not have to think.”
“In reagards to myself, could you please lower your expectations several notches?”
“I just want to do something normal, and not talk about It.”
“Please stop trying to cheer me up; if you ignore my Grump, it’ll go away.”
I promise I won’t stay like this forever. You’re just going to have to trust me on this one.
Peggy Lu Who's Just Sayin' 