Charting the not-so-gradual decline of my sanity

So I am going to a roller derby on Saturday. And, on a related note, I think I might be insane.

My nearest and dearest have abandoned me this week so I’ve been left with just my little pea brain and its thoughts and I’ve decided two things today: I am a dork, and I have a very bad wardrobe.

I was in Starbucks thinking of these things, and the roller derby, and I produced the following train of thought: “What does one wear to a roller derby? Fuck, I don’t have anything to wear to a roller derby. Maybe I’ll go to Target tomorrow and buy something.”

Does this strike anyone else as exceptionally weird? But more importantly, does Isaac Mizrahi have a badass roller derby line?

p.s. “Pilot of the Airwaves” just came on my mp3 player and it is the weirdest song ever, but still really appealing.

How to avoid feeling terribly ill

You could probably just NOT do the following:

Drink until midnight. Wake up at 6 a.m. when a gentleman caller leaves, realize you are starving, and eat a few pieces of leftover steak and a slice of cheese. Drink a bunch of water. Go back to bed.

Seriously, a slice of cheese? What the hell is wrong with me?

Reunited and It Feels So Good...

I’m just back from a crazy weekend in New Jersey/New York. Highlights of which included:

Me losing my wallet for roughly the 7,000th time, on Thursday night. I need to get a fanny pack or something, for real. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and all. BUT: in a new twist on this old story, I GOT IT BACK. Amazingness! After spending 20 minutes on the phone with 311 (my phone died in the middle of the first call) and determining that, no, I would probably never see my lovely red leather, quite expensive, containing the license I needed for the plane ride home wallet, I was awoken by Boulos at 3 a.m. She was there to double check and make sure I was alive, since my mother was on the line and seemed quite convinced I was dead in a gutter. A wonderful New York City policeman had called her. Someone had found my wallet! All they took was the $20 in it! They found it in the street! So my mom thought I was dead!

He had also called my phone, which of course did not wake me. So I called him back and he explained that he was not going to process it because I’d need i.d. to claim it, even though obviously my license was in the damn wallet. Also, his name was Officer Joranda. Boulos and I quickly began planning a wedding that would allow me to take the name Amanda Joranda. We had a wedding to attend in Jersey on Friday, so on Saturday we finally made it to the midtown south precinct, where I collected my wallet. Alas, though I am forever grateful to him for holding my wallet for me and being so very kind, there were no sparks. I’m currently at work on a new “marry into an awesome name” plan.

The wedding (Susie’ and Ken’s) was very, very fun. Also, very Susie and Ken. When introduced as husband and wife at the reception, they walked out to “This is Why I’m Hot.” And that is why we love them. They also offered a pretty intense and hilarious performance of “Paradise by the Dashboard Light.” The guests were rather amazing themselves. There was a lot of middle-aged dancing at about 7:30. Dinner had not yet been served, the sun was still out, and 50 people were running around in a conga line. Men were tying napkins to their heads by 8:30. We were pretty impressed. After the wedding, Boulos, Archana and I engaged in a ridiculous drunken photo session in the backseat while Andy drove us to their local bar, which we closed down. We were pretty inebriated. Good times.

Then, on Saturday, we went to Winnie’s, our favorite karaoke bar. Which leads me to our Blind Item: which lead star of a defunct HBO Jersey-set mob show walked into this tiny Chinatown dive bar with an entourage of about 8 middle-aged men? A friend of ours chatted him up for a long time, which was totally surreal and very intriguing. Alas, he left alone (well, with a bunch of dudes). We then found out that he had been in Chinatown for a reason: he wanted to bang an Asian chick. He’s original, that T… dude who shall not be named. Also, he made inappropriate comments about my friend’s sexual orientation and her ass. I can’t believe I was surprised he’s something of a perv, but I was. I am endlessly naïve, I suppose.

We did not arrive home until at least 6, as we were at Winnie’s til 4 and then headed over to the legendary Wo Hop for some Chinese food. Boulos’s brother kindly drove us home. Sunday, we basically woke up and left for the airport.

Oh and of course there were the constant USFBs. Good times!

WHAT THE FUCK????

Moist Towelette Museum????

Who would take the time? Why??? You can seriously find anything online, I guess.

This is more disturbing to me than most porn. Pretty much any porn involving two consenting adult humans is more relatable to me than this.

JIZUM UPDATE

Here are a few details my sister left our during the gchat:

• The boy in question looked about 12 and was wearing a batman costume. I will need to speak with my mother about the extent to which this was a full-on costume; all I can verify is that it definitely involved some kind of headgear resembling the ears of the batman mask.
• The girl was Asian (I do not know why this is relevant) and looked significantly older than the boy.

It just gets better and better, huh?

Gchats about my mom

Here is an interesting gchat between my sister and myself. It is in regards to a phone call my sister received from my mom at work. Note: my mother is inappropriate and works at Starbucks.


Sis: mom also told me about two young kids at her starbucks...
blah, blah, blah...
but basically, she went to use the bathroom and they were both in there
so when they came out she went in and then tells me
"Oh gosh and can you believe it!?! There was gizum on the floor!"
and I said, what?
and she goes, "gizum, you know like cum"

Amanda: WHAT????????
wtf
I thought she was saying gum
JIZ?

Sis: oh yeah

Amanda: is that what she was trying to say?

Sis: yeah, yeah but she calls it jizum

Amanda: omg you HAVE TO TELL THIS TO ME IN PERSON TONIGHT
bc I need you to imitate mom
hahahaha

Sis: is that an actual word?

Amanda: I think it is
but not one to be used

Sis: I am crying at my desk right now just thinking of it

Amanda: I mean, plus... she's MOM, could she just say semen please?
is that too much to ask?
If I have kids I am not going to dirty-talk them

Sis: ill, sick and she wiped it up
!

Amanda: especially when they are at work!
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
omg I’m laughing
and crying

Sis: she was like. "I knew it was jizum because I could tell by the consistency"
how sick!!

Amanda: oh I may have to send this entire convo to boulos
OMG MOM STOP IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sis: please do

Amanda: jizum, haha

Sis: and then when I was like, "oh sick. oh my God" more so referring to mom's story... her response? "I know, can you believe it?! In my Starbucks? I mean someone was getting a hand job or a blow job. In my Starbucks. I don't know if she just spit it on the floor..."
I suppose she was referring to the lump of "jizum" she wiped up

Amanda: ew
haha
omg mom

Picture This...

Like most girls (women?) our age, the Wife and I have been nearly lifelong fans of the excellent, overly sexualized, and sometimes horrifying cult classic, The Golden Girls. We experienced a renewed appreciation for the show during college, and probably got WAY more of the jokes then, than the first time around. Of course, you all know that one of the girls was Sophia Petrillo, played by Estelle Getty. We just wanted to memorialize her, because she was one funny bitch.

Not only did she play mother to Bea Arthur, who is actually one year her junior, but she was able to steal a scene no matter WHAT other crazy shit was going on in that episode. Her ability to cut someone down, and still be sweet was what made her character so awesome. So, here's to you, Estelle, we will miss you and your crazy stories of Sicily! RIP, the Unicorns salute you!

Coming not-so-soon to a bookshelf near you...

Boulos and I have been having very deep Gchat discussions re: love lately. Thank god we have each other because our repetetive whining (mine moreso than hers currently) would drive anyone else away.

In any case, we decided that neither of us knows anything about life and love and we are thus qualified to write a self-help book addressing both.

Obviously, given our inability to write simple blog posts on a semi-regular basis, this will take awhile.

So in about 2019, be on the look out for The Unicorns' Approach to Life and Love: I Will Master You, Bitch

Infrequent, I know

I think I may need to stop listening to “The Pace is the Trick” by Interpol and “Gender Bombs” and “Retour a Vega” by the Stills, at least when I have my period. Goddamn I love these songs, but they really get me down.

It’s been a long time but I would like to try to keep up this blog…life is so weird, randomly super busy for a few days and then I’m bored and staring at my dog, thinking about how I should really try to read more. Also: stealing wireless internet is NOT the most reliable method of connecting oneself with the outside world.


p.s. Boulos and I started a new blog, called “Caption Obvious.” Link in blogroll, to the right. It’s possible that that one will ALSO never get updated; we’ll see.

WELCOME TO THE WORLD, BABY ZOE!!!

Last night, our friend Lisa welcomed her second baby girl! Lil' Ava Grace (daughter #1) is about 2 and 1/2, and now has a little sister named Zoe Taylor. She's adorable! Both Mom and baby are doing well, we wish them our most heartfelt congratulations! We can't wait to meet her!!!!

EXTREME!!!!!!!!

Ok, I watch a local newscast every morning, here in the NY Tri-State area which features a computer segment with "Kurt, the Cyber Guy." Usually this is a collection of lame tech-y news and viral videos, blah blah. This morning, hoever, good ole' Kurt OUTDID himself. This discovery is quite possibly the most excellent thing I've ever seen, and features possibly the only EXXTREME "Sport" I may EVER be able to actually participate in... EXTREME IRONING.

Whoever thought of combining "Extreme" behavior and one of the worst chores in life, ironing, should seriously be awareded some sort of award. It's amazing.

~Boulos

What can I say, she dresses like a tramp.

I just took my dog out for her last pee of the night (I know it's insanely late, which is why I specify "pee" -- we walk out of the front gate, she whizzes, it's not even a walk).

I knew she had to go since she woke up and gave me the sad "why haven't you taken me out lately?" look. But she laid on the couch staring at me while I asked her several times if she'd like to go out. To get things moving, I had to walk over to her, clip on her leash, and then pick her up and put her down on the ground.

So I said to her, "I know you want it."

Honest to God, I caught myself right before I said, "You're giving me that look." I didn't want my dog to think I was about to rape her.

Gchats about tacos

Amanda: omg I had so many beers last night
then I had 2 tacos

Boulos: hahaha
nice
OMG, that sounds SO GOOD

Amanda: tacos?
man the pork one was delish
god, can I just have a job that involves beer and tacos?

Boulos: YES
If I can too!

Amanda: if you could find THAT job
you should take it
haha
taco stand!
like a nacho stand

Boulos: Hahah< YES

Amanda: god, my love of tacos knows no bounds

Boulos: hahaha

OVER IT

I am so, so sick of seeing this commercial. Yes, I watch too much television. No, I don't plan to stop anytime soon. So it's probably going to drive me crazy.

I hate his self-conciousness!! You just got married dude, OWN it! Or go back to kindergarten. I hate you.

And seriously, who has a futon anymore? I'm young(ish), single and broke and I would never.

They need to shelve this one and bring me a full length commercial of the hot new father in the longer version of this one that features 4 different people. That dad is hot. And omg, do I watch too much television.

Hussy

Nothing like getting to work and realizing there's a giant hole in your tights.

It's on my lower thigh, the outer side, and would not be a problem if I was not wearing the shortest work-appropriate skirt I own.

I can't wait to buy drugstore tights at lunchtime! Although buying tights at the drugstore is how I got into this mess, as I'm pretty sure the Leggs tights I'm wearing just gave up after like 5 washings. I honestly think this hole formed all on its own.

I wish I had a pervy boss who would promote me for looking trashy.

p.s. Apparantly, it is L'eggs. Um, sweetie, you are not fooling anybody. You are not French, you are drugstore brand, you can't buy class with even a well-placed apostrophe.

Erotic Vagina

Ok, so starting our senior year in college, the wife and I, and all of our friends frequented the Barrow St. Ale House every Thursday. We went to the bar on other days as well, and it was definitely our defacto place to go out. We started going b/c of the $15 all you can drink Happy Hour on Thursdays, and stayed for our love of the bartenders and bouncers alike. Soon before the wife moved away, we had significantly cut down on our trips to Barrow. The staff had changed so much that we barely knew the peeps that worked there anymore, and the other regulars weren't there nearly as much, and the entire place had lost it's original dive-y charm.

Now, it's like any other sports bar in the city, completely generic and lame with tons of flatscreens and mediocre food. They even gave up the unique jukebox, that had featured mixes made by bartenders and bouncers alike, for one of those terrible touchscreen ones! The stools and crappy formica-topped tables of yore have been replaced with these chain restaurant style leather booths. The creepy deer heads are no longer adorning the walls, etc, basically it's totally lame. The SADDEST thing is the bathroom rennovation. The girl's room MIRACULOUSLY still houses two stalls, but the similarity to the shit pit of yore ends there. The pearls of wisdom like, "I went to the carnival, a candy apple caught my eye. I learned to love and I learned to fly.", and my personal fave, "I have diarhea, please call an ambulance, thanks." have been PAINTED OVER! The toilet paper is no longer suspended from an old pool cue hovering above the midget-sized commodes! Alas, it's not the same. The only crowning glory of the "new" Barrow St, is this feature on their website. The "bathroom wall" has apparently been tagged with some porn spam featuring some of the most insanely ridiculous lines I've ever seen in my life. The wife just found it, and it inspired me to write this, and it's where the beautiful title of this entry came from. So, although I don't recommend heading over to Barrow for a pint, I do recommend hitting up their site for some awe-inspiring phrases that will definitely make you giggle!
~Boulos:)

Can't you smell that smell?

As most of you must know by now, I don't really have a sense of smell. Aside from the occasional whiff of garlic WHILE I AM ACTUALLY CHOPPING IT, and a couple of other times in college, while under certain influences, I do not smell a thing. Today, a friend of mine at work sent me this article, which I could've written myself! I seriously am considering typing out a copy of it, and carrying it around with me, when people ask me these EXACT questions every time they hear of my condition. I would like to point out though, that my wife told me if I'd written it, it would've been much funnier, which is undoubtedly true... but oh well!



Seriously though folks, I am happy to hear that I am not alone... I share an affliction with this guy.

Cheerio, Simon! And to all those who suffer from hyposmia!

P.S. Please refrain from buying me scented candles, I really don't appreciate them, and they end up just being a gift for my boyfriend, which is really just not fair! LOL!

Happy Valentines Day

And I got you a gift, too:

I LOVE THIS PICTURE. I voted for Hillary and I love her, but what the fuck??

And now I have to go, because Jay Leno just snuck onto my television again and I must change the channel before he trots out Larry the Cable Guy. What a fucking pair. They're like the anti-Hillary and mariachi boy.

Try not to get knocked up tonight! I won't have to try too hard.

Dear Lord, make it stop

I have always known that the Tonight Show is terrible. Jay Leno is just about the least funny man alive. However, when I am near the television at 10:30 I inevitably wind up half-watching it because I'm too lazy to turn the channel after the news (Channel 5 news in Chicago is the only acceptable local news, for reals) and I'm usually cleaning the kitchen or something.

The past few nights I've been surfing the internets, which are lovely to have around at home finally, and Jay Leno has intruded into my living room every night. And I just realized the Tonight Show has become worse than I could ever imagine. LARRY THE CABLE GUY HAS BEEN ON EVERY NIGHT THIS WEEK.

And he was just wearing an unexplained, awful purple speedo thingy. With a camo vest, of course.


p.s. I promise to blog a bit more, maybe.

Wifetime!

Ok, first off... blah blah we're bad at keeping up w/ our blog. It's the holiday season ok, RELAX! We didn't forget about you people, alright?? GOD!

Anyway, the weekend following my (gulp) 27th Birthday I hopped a flight to the frozen tundra, AKA Chicago, to see the wifey! It was drunken debauchery once again, in the cold and ice, but I loved it. My trip started off with a near repeat of my wife's solo evening of wine and Gossip Girl, however I was there to make it an evening of drunken wifetime, so it was FUN:)

The schedule for the weekend included, Faux's office X-mas party, a G-Family Xmas Bash, and finally some live band karaoke. The party schedule + wives= too much scheduling of showers and whatnot to be on time. SO... I sent the wife to the bank w/ my ATM card to faciliate faster primp time. This was a VERY stupid idea. Apparently, although I am TERRIBLE with calculations, etc... I should be the one handling finances in this marriage. That biatch was too busy checking her mug in the mini ATM mirror or something, and left my card in the ATM!!! The most RETARDED part of this whole thing is that the damn bank WOULD NOT GIVE ME THE CARD BACK! There is no possible way that I could have known all the info on the card unless it was mine! But, nonetheless, that damn Chicago institution, "La Salle Bank" can KISS MY ASS!!!

I finally got my card this weekend, and although it's absence TOTALLY screwed me out of online shopping for xmas, I suppose I will not ask for a divorce just yet. My wife showed me an ex time while in the Chi, including getting to sleep w/ lil' Molly- that crazy pooch, and introducing me to the wonders of live band karaoke and Flash Taco at 3am. If those things aren't worth saving a marriage, I don't know hat is.

Now, since, it's almost certain I will not write again before the New Year... I hope you all have a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Enjoy lots o' nog and prezzies, and don't forget to get something sparkly for your 2 fave unicorns!!

Luv ya!!!
~Boulos:)

oooh one more thing...

My lovely Boulos sent me a wonderful picture that her friend Lauren found. OMG I love it. You know how people have pictures of a kitty hanging off a tree in their cubes? Or their children? Well this is what I now have in my cube, right next to my computer screen. It has been eliciting random giggles for about 2 days now:

WWCBD?*

Man, we are bad at this blogging stuff.

To get back in the swing of it, I'll just share a short tale I call: "My Wednesday Night."

Originally, I was supposed to go for drinks with this guy I met (gasp!) on the internet. But that ended up not working out. He's forgiven, mainly because he is English, so I guess we're meeting up next week.

That doesn't mean I wasn't a little disappointed though. So I used my last $19 to buy a bottle of red wine on the way home (well, I had $5 left over after that) and I drank the whole bottle alone while watching dvr-ed episodes of Gossip Girl with my dog and smoking too much.

How hot is that? Wait, WHY are men breaking dates with me?!



*That's "what would Carrie Bradshaw do?" Not this, I'll bet -- thank god.

The Dinglehopper Rises to Popularity!!

The other day, while riding in Andy's new truck, I saw a fork in his center console. I thought it was kind of an odd place for a piece of silverware, so I asked him what it was for. He said, "Well I couldn't find my brush, and I was running to the DMV to get my new license, so I used the fork! It worked really well!"

As you can imagine, my only response was hysterical laughter. The only thing I could think to say was, "Oh my God, my boyfriend is the Little Mermaid!" LOL! So, yeah... for those of you who aren't aware, in the Little Mermaid, the seagull, Scuttle tells Ariel that a fork is called a "dinglehopper", and that humans use it to style their hair. Congratulations, Andy... you are a teenaged cartoon mermaid, Cheers!

Things I Learned After Four Fruitless Hours Spent In a Jury Waiting Room

The majority of people are very unattractive

The majority of people available for jury duty seem to be rather old; was there some kind of “you are young and promising: opt out” box I missed?

Living in a city, in a relatively trendy area populated mostly with people between the ages of 20 and 40, it is easy to mistrust the media regarding the nation’s “obesity epidemic.” In a county courthouse, you find out who owns those faceless bellies from stock footage.

I am really hot within the confines of a jury waiting room. Some men do not mind telling me this with their blatant stares.

Watching game shows with a roomful of people is nearly unbearable.

Crazy old men who fart loudly in a roomful of strangers and then laugh about it could loosely be considered my “peers.”

I still don’t know how to find the fastest way from the suburbs to the northwest side of Chicago.

Rock n Roll Unicorns 4 EVA!!!!

Alright, last weekend was an AWESOME reunion of your fave unicorns, Tania, Vince, and all sorts of special guests from the old gang. You will hear debauched tales at a later date, and right now you can check Amanda's myspace for some sweet pics from our friend Allyson's wedding. However, without further ado I give you the most awesome tattoos ever in creation:

That's right. Rock n' Roll Unicorns will be around FOREVER!! Woo!

Tatu

Yes, that's right -- Boulos and I are acquiring accents, shaving ten years off our ages and starting a pop group whose mystique will lie in our ambigous sexual relationship, which is to say, the rumors that we "are doing it."

No, actually, WE ARE GETTING ROCK N ROLL UNICORN TATTOOS THIS WEEKEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For reals. This has been years in the making, but somehow we just came up with this plan like a day ago. I don't know why we didn't think of it before. It's my birthday weekend (kinda -- that's what you say when your bday is the day AFTER a national holiday). So, so many of our friends are reuniting in NYC this weekend. It is just natural that we do it now.

I understand that many people probably do not know what a Rock n Roll Unicorn is. The fact is, you can't really know a Rock n Roll Unicorn. It is, by nature, enigmatic and difficult to describe. It's like obscenity, really. You know it when you see it -- don't ask me to describe it.

Luckily for you, we will take pictures of our brand new tattoos and post them here!

mmm, bac-os...

Radar has a very funny list of reasons you're still single, which Alice forwarded to Boulos, who forwarded it to me.

Things that pertain to me:

6. Have written poetry inside a Starbucks

10. Are Courtney Love (replace “are” with “aspire to be”)

19. Scream out Wheel of Fortune answers (but more often, it’s Jeopardy)

31. Call October "Rocktober" (actually, it was Cocktober. Which is better)

51. Call underwear "panties" (to horrify people, because in my experience roughly 50% of the female populace cringes upon hearing that word)

75. Have a bedside stack of Sudoku books (and crossword puzzles)

98. Posted a Craigslist "Missed Connections" ad to find the kid who groped you on the subway (j/k. But I did once give my real number to a guy who hit on me in a really inappropriately close manner in the subway. I have no idea why I did that, it was like a momentary lapse of logic.)


I would argue the the following best describe middle-aged, "married-but-looking" type men I've met, rather than the single set.

7. Wink in a rakish manner each time you tell a joke

28. Refer to your PDA as a "Crackberry"

37. Prefer the "fist bump" when meeting strangers and always insist they "lock it in"

38. Refuse to remove your Bluetooth earpiece during sex

46. Feel most comfortable in Tevas and jorts

58. Have taken more than one cell phone picture of your genitals

73. Will do anything for "shits and giggles"

83. Refer to yourself as a "vagitarian"



These qualities intrigue me. I'd like to develop them.

8. Have a ferret on your shoulder

63. Have a Tasmanian Devil "tramp stamp"

76. Can only make love to the Mighty Mighty Bosstones

Gchats

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Lollapalooza

I'm sure you're all on the edge of your seats awaiting my review of Saturday 8/4 at Lollapalooza. Well, I don't like to disappoint. So here you go.

I am lazy, I sleep late, and I don't do well spending all day in crowds, so I didn't show up til 3:30 and only saw 5 bands. But it was totally worth the $80, and I'm gonna tell you about it.

Cold War Kids
Originally we'd planned to get there at about 2:30 to catch either Silverchair or Stephen Marley, though I have no idea what either is doing these days. That didn't really work out and so we got there just in time for Cold War Kids.

They sounded really good, but they were on a little side stage and this created the only "dear lord, get these people away from me!" conditions we experienced all day. A tiny bit of that reaction may have been due to my sober state, which I did not maintain after CWK, thank god. But it was packed and we were quite far from the stage. Plus we were facing west and people crossing the park were walking north/south, and thus right into us. This blew.

The lead singer had a lot of enthusiasm and I'm quite excited about seeing them open for the White Stripes in October. But we were just too far, it was too crowded, and I was too hot to really get into this.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

I basically just wanted to hear them live and had no desire to get near the stage. So we laid down an little blanket and sat on the grass, which was lovely after standing in the throng watching Cold War Kids. It also started to cool off and get breezy, which was nice. CYHSY sounded pretty good; I'm not a huge fan but I like what I've heard of their newer album. A lot of rather hot and slutty girls around us were dancing happily. I bet these dudes get laid a lot, by better-looking chicks than you'd suspect.

Regina Spektor

We left CYHSY early to catch Regina Spektor. We should have left my house the night before for a chance to get near the stage, because she was a helluva lot more popular than I expected. We were planning to head back across the park towards the end of her set, so we took a spot on the far left side of the stage. Unfortunately some very loud, very bad metal was being played not very far away on the left, so at first she was very difficult to hear (plus it was just her and a piano or occasionally just her and a guitar -- none of the bells and whistles heard on her albums). She was incredibly cute and endearing. She seems like one of those people you want to hate because they seem naively nice, but you have to love them for it. At one point when the bad metal was still going on, I thought she was singing about those dudes fucking up her songs. I've since discovered she has a song about neighbors fucking to her songs. I still think she might have changed the lyrics to fit the situation.

I was really impressed by her ability to keep people completely enchanted with her music despite the bare-bones set up. She doesn't have the raw punk spirit of Patti Smith or the haughty cheekiness of Tori Amos, but she killed us with kindness, and it was fun.

This, incidentally, was around the time I got drunk. Three cheers for my High School antics; were were allowed to bring 2 bottles of water into the park so I brought one of water, and one of heavily spiked vitamin water. Since I still bought about $40 worth of beer, I don't feel too badly about this.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs

I had never seen the YYYs live before, and it was awesome. Karen O is my hero and everything I aspire to be. Bitch is crazy, in the best possible sense. She had all kinds of weird accessories including something that looked like a small tent my sister had when we were little, but in black and white. She sounded damn good, though. Their new single "Down Boy" is the sexiest song this year. Download it illegally, I promise you won't regret it (J/k, I buy almost all of my music. seriously. I'm not a good for nothing, entitled piece of scum like you). They sang a bunch of stuff from Show Your Bones, too, and a few from Fever to Tell, including "Y Control" which is one of my favorite songs ever. I was very happy about that.

During their set, I left to go to the bathroom because at this point I was drinking beer and peeing frequently, like I do. We weren't very close to the stage, but a lot closer than we had been to Ms. Spektor. I absolutely forgot to take a look at where, exactly, we were standing, though. Like a total moron, I had left my bag and my phone with my friends. I spent the majority of "Maps" wandering around looking for our spot, which is kind of funny.

Spoon

We caught a couple of songs from Spoon when we were walking over to the other stage to see Interpol. I like all of the songs I've heard by Spoon, but these first 2 or 3 sounded like really, really bad classic rock. Like the Doobie Brothers -- the Michael McDonald incarnation of the Doobie Brothers. Maybe it just wasn't an appropriate buffer between YYYs and Interpol, and my head was in the wrong place. Then it started to rain and we left for beer and food.

Interpol

Oh, lovely boys who make lovely music. Interpol and the YYYs were my reasons for attending Lollapalooza. We got there about 20 minutes before the set, but didn't even try to get very close because a) there were porta potties just down a lane from where we stood, which was important for both my bladder and my bad sense of direction and b) we were never going to get incredibly close, so I decided to deal. I was pretty much drunk at this point, and then friends of my friend gave me a few shots of vodka.

I am not a dancer at shows. I'm more a watcher and listener. But I was drunk, I love Interpol, and they sounded great. So I was dancing. Not like a damn fool, but dancing. The people around us were a mix of Interpol fans, people they'd dragged along, some curious sorts, and old men smoking pot who had clearly come straight over from Patti Smith, who had played at a nearby stage. This one dude who was dancing around like a fool gave me a high five when he saw that I knew the words. It was pretty awesome. More people are into this band than I thought. Fun times.

Then we went to a bar in Wicker Park, where we always seem to end up when the night is heading toward blacked-out drunken embarrasment. We must have had a premonition of where we were headed, because we were there pretty early, by about 11:3o, and drunk off our asses and acting like fools by about 1. It was a fun night.


Pitchfork's review of Saturday is actually pretty good and not too douchey, a real first for them.

Guess where I'm going tomorrow?

Create Your Own PaloozaHead - Visit Lollapalooza.com



And yeah, I finished the HP (not in 24 hours though, I had things like karaoke and a fear of The End to deal with). I've just been in a severe Harry Potter-less depression for about a week. But I've risen from that like a motherfuckin' phoenix. Fawkes the phoenix, that is.