almost is such an odd concept... a teetering on the edge of sorts. A feeling of neither here nor there. anticipation without direction. almost summer isn't really a season. it's nearly spring, it's nearly warmer. the trees are blooming, the air feels thick with promise, but still cold enough to chill you as the sun sets. the wind is too cold, but not cold enough for winter. you could just think it might be spring but for the warmer days you've been having in between. or maybe spring IS just almost summer. almost happy is another one. slightly content. maybe even close to enjoying your own life. most of the time things are ok, if only your brain would shut off enough to let you enjoy the moment. almost in love is the worse. staring over the precipice, knowing that you could give in at any moment, or get pushed. and that's a dangerous thing when you've been down in the pit before searching for a way out. almost in love means you still have a choice. almost in love means choosing between the known and the unknown. you can stay with what you know, or you can let yourself fall, and all the wonderful longing that goes along with it, all the mystery of the known in new light. its nearly palpable, but you can't quite grasp it. its like finding the ocean unexpectedly and deciding to swim, it's like swimming and deciding whether to drown or float. almost in love is knowing that your fall will burn you inside out, but still wondering if it's worth it just to feel alive again.

I am coming for a visit on Saturday. Please plan parties accordingly.

Thank you,
Jocelyn

SXSW 2008 AUSTIN, TX

3/13 (Thursday)
Shout Out Louds @ Flamingo Cantina
Phosphorescent @ Mohawk Patio
Body of War @ Stubb's
(Tom Morello, Brett Dennen, Brendan James, RX Bandits, NO Ben Harper,
Billy Bragg, Mason Jennings)
Kimya Dawson @ Stubb's
Deer Tick @ Jelly NYC Garage (My Open Bar Party)
Augustana @ Stubb's
Mark Kozelek @ Central Presbyterian Church

3/14 (Friday)
Frightened Rabbits @ Emo's Annex
She & Him @ Yaris' YR Radio Tent
Raveonettes @ Stubb's (Spin Party)
Vampire Weekend @ Stubb's (Spin Party)
The Forms @ Red Eye Fly
RTX @ Flamingo Cantina
Rogue Wave @ Cedar Door
Helios Sequence @ Bourbon Street
Abra Moore @ 18th Floor at Hilton Garden Inn
South @ Creekside EMC at Hilton Garden Inn
Scouting for Girls @ Maggie Mae's Rooftop

3/15 (Saturday)
Longwave @ Cedar Street Courtyard (Filter Party)
Blitzen Trapper @ Volume (Stereogum / Paste)
No Age @ Volume (Stereogum / Paste)
Duffy @ Stubb's
Riz MC @ Latitude 30
Georgie James @ Dirty Dog Bar
Colourmusic @ Maggie Mae's Rooftop
The Autumns @ Maggie Mae's Rooftop
Jo Lean & The Jing Jang Jongs @ The Smoke House (Spin Party)


• I really really wish I'd gotten there on Wednesday. I think things would have flowed a lot better and I would have been able to catch more sets I'd hoped to see.

• I hate that I slept through Dizee Rascall on Friday morning.

• Shout Out Louds were the perfect start to my sxsw. The funny thing about this show was I didn't know I was going to it. I was meeting Ashley there who was meeting Rick there, and Rick had saying we were going to "team clermont under the radar" at the Flaming, so when I walked in mid-set I didn't much pay attention right off the bat but instead tried to order a "Lonestar" beer from the bar. Operative word being "tried" as the beertender regretfully informed me that his promised shipment of this, his personal favourite beer was already over day late, so I has to settle on a Corona instead. And I didn't really look up at the band until they broke into "The Comeback" and I danced over to Ashley saying, "hey, I DO know this band" and we laughed in realization that "team Clermont/ under the radar" was the party, not the band. Anyways. I love this band. So do you. Even if you've never heard of them, trust me, you've probably heard 3 or 4 of their songs and danced along. Hmmn, they kind of ARE under the radar after all.

• Yo La Tengo stayed in our hotel. We discovered this when we walked into the lobby to check in and two-thirds of the band were standing right there. Only, since I've only ever seen them live twice, I didn't immediately recognize them – instead I stood staring at Ira, trying to figure out where I knew him from. If Ashley and Susanne hadn't squealed "yo la tengo" under their breath, I quite possibly would have walked up to him and asked him how we knew each other. Um, yeah. Nice save girls!

• Phosphorescent = probably not my thing. I'd have to inspect the album closely (which I'm not all that likely to do) to see if I could learn to like them. I guess I don't do all that well with boy-fronted mopey-indie. (It took me YEARS to finally like death cab)

• Kimya Dawson = sort of awful live. Not that I don't appreciate her all over the Juno soundtrack, but she's not really a very good singer, and I don't think I'd have survived listening to her sing-songy voice for an entire set.

• Augustana - is not a cool band. I know this. They have hit singles, they opened for Snow Patrol, they are basically mocked by the indie elite, but I can't help loving them. What can i say? I'm a sucker for cute boys playing mandolin-laced pop. They played almost all new stuff, which I enjoyed - I can tell I'm really going to like their new album, but come on – you'd think they'd at least throw "Boston" in there for the finale. Although, hmmn. Maybe they deserve some sort of "cred" for not playing the single? I haven't quite made up my mind about that one. Having said all that, I really, really enjoyed their performance. Stubb's is by far my favourite place to see a show in Austin, it might even place in my top 5 venue list for anyplace, USA. The sound is great, the lighting is great, and in my experience, they never let it get SO crowded that you can't get to where you want to be with minimal trouble. The new songs sounded crisp, and were more upbeat than their older material with, dare i say, an almost Rilo-Kiley-esque sensibility in places? That might be asking too much.

• The Jelly NYC garage's rooftop was awesome. Although one would have hoped for functioning elevators and people actually IN the pool during the day times. Oh, and let's not kid ourselves – it was a HIKE to get to. But, it was pretty. And it had a great view of the city, and free beer – so what's not to like about that? The Deer Ticks were really pretty likeable – despite the fact that I thought they were "O Death" for a day and a half after I'd seen them.

• I started my Saturday with Longwave, who I'd never managed to see before, but were actually... pretty good. I always knew I "should" like longwave, but I never really got around to listening to them. I feel like maybe alone in that, because for a band who had SO much buzz back in the day, they haven't exactly caught on in a big way. Definitely up my alley musically, maybe especially since they're a little rockier and less distortion based than they used to be (per Ashley). In any event, I liked them enough to catch them a week later at The Mercury Lounge, for a more full set. A band from Brooklyn (is it bad that all these years I thought they were boston-based?) that I hadn't already played out. Who knew?


• I <3 Blitzen Trapper. It's official. They make my little pseudo-hippie-alt-country heart beat a little faster. Big ups to stereogum for having them at the dell lounge, it was my favorite set of the festival by FAR. The 6 of them banging away onstage with their quasi-southern-semi-mountain-all-american rock had me stompin' my foot immediately, but the kicker was 4 songs in when they broke out their single "Wild Mountain Nation" which you might SWEAR was a classic rock cover from the 70s, because it sounds so immediately familiar. But you'd be wrong. They're just THAT GOOD. The lead singer has an uncanny ability to channel the Robert Plant wail in certain songs that's downright eerie. Plus who doesn't love a band with a bright turquoise Melodica? Amrit leaned in mid set to say that he felt like he was watching a countrified Dead set – I whole heartedly agreed, adding that "this is what would happen if Jerry Garcia got into the moonshine". These crunchy boys rock, and they rock hard.


• No Age – is quite simply not my thing. This was exaggerated by the fact that I saw them directly after Blitzen Trapper. I only lasted through about 3 songs, so I can't tell you much, but I can tell you that I don't need to see them again.

• Frightened Rabbit. They were first on my list of "must see bands" for sxsw. Oddly enough, I discovered them over the holidays when I was poking around for new indie xmas songs and found their absolutely brilliant, "Its Xmas so we'll stop" which is quite possibly my favourite song of 2007, Christmas or otherwise. Anyhow, I picked up their album on itunes shortly thereafter and decided straight away that this was the band for me. First off, they're Scottish – and not with one of those melt-away accents, we're talking full-strength, heady Scottish brogue here, and it's delicious. Secondly, they have this sort of delicate folk sensibility that gets all tangled up with dirty, garagey guitars, and hooky pop, and the result is somehow something that I feel like I haven't seen before, but somehow manages to end up sounding like home. And third – they have a way of building up songs into these sound explosions that make your insides feel like you're on the verge of something amazing. Right, so I was incredibly psyched to see that they were going to be playing sxsw, and they didn't disappoint. Live they were LOUD and every bit as frantic and intense as I could have imagined. I saw them outdoors in a tent the middle of 95 degree heat, and yet the amount of energy that poured out of those boys was absolutely staggering. They thrashed about sang their sweaty hearts out. I'm telling you now: rabbits who are scared. They are awesome. They are Scottish. They kick albino bunny ass.

• Zoey Deschanel has a really pretty voice. I thought this after "Elf", but seeing her sing live confirmed it. Plus she's so goddamned adorable. Random sidebar – i sort of knew her parents were Hollywood-types, but only in watching Twin Peaks on dvd last weekend I noticed her dad Caleb directed a bunch of episodes. And only now, after seeing her imdb entry did i realize that her mom played Lara Flynn Boyle's mom on the show? Crazy.

• Abra Moore was easily the biggest disappointment of sxsw for me. You may or not remember her "hit" single "Four Leaf Clover" in 1997. I do. I worshipped that song. She was a slightly edgier Lisa-Loeb type with a more precocious sounding voice, and her album "Strangest Places" resonated with me. But like much of my cd's from the late 90s, she's been gathering dust for some time now. Fast forward to 2007, my ipod digs up her song "Trip on Love" from the Cruel Intentions soundtrack (which I've always liked, but much ignored these past 5 years or so) and I fall in LOVE with the song (9 years after the fact). This prompted me to look into what she might be up to nowadays, which is when I noticed she was playing sxsw (a native Austinite – this was no big surprise). Had I dug a little deeper, I might have stumbled onto the progressive path her music has taken in the last 8 years. And I might not have been so annoyed by the jazz trio she seemed to be performing in at midnight on Friday. Honestly, I think I got gypped by the trumpeter. He's only featured in one song on her new album, and yet she added him to what I have to assume are new arrangements throughout her set. Which gave the whole thing a very avant-jazz / adult contempo / "for the love of god will this song never end" quality. Why Abra? WHY? ::sigh:: I wanted to love this set, on the 18th floor of the Hilton with floor to ceiling windows and a stunning view of Austin splayed out behind her. It should have been magical, instead I mildly appreciated one song, "After All These Years" which picked up the pace (and my spirits) momentarily. But afterwards it was right back to the trumpet solos from hell, and I had to call it quits. Oh Abra, I wish I'd seen you back in the day.

• Following the Abra-disastah, I took the elevator down to South who were setting up to play in the creekside lounge. I'd juuuust caught them in NYC at pianos a few days earlier, but I loved seeing them so much I was hoping to catch even a few songs before running over to Scouting for Girls. Just like in NYC, they started off with two songs off the new album, both of which made me smile. There's just something about their particular brand of dreamy brit-pop that just makes everything ok for me, and I sorely needed to hear something beautiful and familiar to set me right again. I left the room smiling and thankful that they'd been able to save my mood and salvage the evening.

• Scouting for Girls - have an awesome single called "It's Not About You" that jed has been playing in my ear since last summer. It's catchy, it's poppy, it's superfun & danceable... it helped push their album to the #1 spot in the UK by January of 2008. And it made me really psyched to catch them play the last set of my sxsw Friday on the roof of Maggie Mae's. I wish I could rant and rave about how amazing I thought they were live, but something about this uber-poppy trio of brits doesn't quite translate live. Front man Roy Stride was adorable and incredibly charming, he got the whole crowd to clap on command & sing-along, and was just really great... company? How weird is it to say that about a lead singer? But true. I want to hang out with this kid, I want to buy him pints and listen to him tell stories, but not while he's mid-song – you know? Standing in front of him while he sang catchy tunes about wanting to be James Bond or how some girl was "fitter in her myspace picture", was just really awkward. I danced anyway, but it was just off somehow. Maybe this kid needs a lyricist, maybe they need a bigger stage, or maybe I should stick to listening to them when I need a serious sugar fix...


• Jo Lean & The Jing Jang Jongs – ok, so i didn't even know this band existed before sxsw, but Jed was MAD to see them. When it seemed that all hope of that had disappeared, he discovered they were going to play SPIN's after-hours closing party at the Smokehouse, and dragged me along. Dragged being the operative word. I had sxs-had it. I was exhausted, my feet hurt, I was cold and grumpy, I'd been subjected to the loudest band EVER only to have an equally loud yet significantly more annoying band follow them. But Jed twisted my arm, and one complimentary redbull & vodka (and a half hour on the couch in the lobby of the Marriott) later, I was ready to give sxsw one more chance to blow me away with a brand new band. Well – I got what I wished for and then some. What followed was the beginning of what was shaping up to be a STELLAR performance, followed by what can only be described as the biggest Rock and Roll meltdown I have ever witnessed. Jo Lean & the Jing Jang Jongs took the stage and rocked on contact. Five incredibly well dressed lads, playing a sort of 60's infused classic British rock & jumping up and down seemingly in sync with an incredible lighting scheme.... they pretty much demand attention. And then something went wrong. I think possibly an amp blew - I'm still trying to figure it all out. The one guitarist tried in vain to fix it while the rest of the band played on, the second guitarist tried to help, they plugged and unplugged dozens of wires, stepped on pedals in vain, and quickly became frantic – looking out at the deserted sound board at first pleadingly and then with increasing disdain. Here's the thing... NO ONE rushed to help them. No sound guy appearing from the wings, no techie surfacing from the wings, no nothing. And the rapidly frustrated guitarist gave up on his hissing and buzzing amp and... walked off the stage – while – the band played on. The second guitarist seemed to give it go on his own for a bit only to set his guitar down, pick up a loose snare drum and WAIL on it with a drumstick before chucking the stick into the audience and storming off after his bandmate, whilst once again – the band played on. This finally seemed to attract the attention whatever technical or sound guys were in the building and they peered over the stage pulling wires, yelling at each other and cursing at anyone who dare suggest it might be their fault, all the while the lead sing sang and the drummer drummed and the bassist plucked along. This seemed to encourage the guitarists to come back out again, but less than a minute later, the one who's amp was still non-functioning left again in a huff. The song finally over, "Joe Lean" started talking to the crowd, telling us the story of their band (he used to be the drummer of the Pipettes blahbity blah) quite clearly losing patience with the rapidly dissolving / increasingly distracted crowd's attention. When it seemed that they miiight actually pull it together and finish their set, guitarist 2 wandered off in search of guitarist 1 and came back empty handed. About 10 minutes into this debacle, Joe Lean sadly announced to the disbelieving audience that their guitarist was nowhere to be found, dropped his mike onto the stage, and walked off. Simply stunned by the entire display, we all just turned to each other in disbelief in a communal WTF? It was a meltdown. It was ridiculous. It was so very, very rock and roll.

so i took a quiz today that asked me how many people I've ever kissed. And those of you who know me well know that I actually used to keep a pretty close record of that. I even devoted an entire meme-style post to the subject in 04. which i took the liberty of updating today (to the best of my ability). For those of you too lazy to do the math, this means I've kissed exactly 20 people in the last 4 years. Not too shabby.

"People I've Kissed: A Demographic Study, Reconsidered"

(all references are to first kisses)

Total number of people kissed: 81
Male: 76
Female: 5
Caucasian: 74
African American: 2
Middle Eastern: 3
Asian: 1.5
Latino: .5
Jewish: 6.5
American: 75
Israeli: 1
British: 3
Kiwi: 1
Dutch: 1
Kisses that happened in New York: 55
New York City: 26
Boston: 2
Vermont: 1
Paris: 1
Maryland: 16
Colorado: 1
Florida : 2
North Carolina: 2
Texas: 1
St Thomas, USVI: 1
Age of youngest person kissed: 13
Age of oldest: 36
People born in 1977: 22
People who were younger: 16
Older: 33
Musicians: 19
(# of which were drummers: 9)
Artists: 3
Actors: 16
Bartenders: 4
Brothers: 2
Roommates: 6
Never saw again: 23
Know Full Name: 48
Know First Name Only: 22
Never caught name / don't remember it: 10
Matts: 7
Mikes: 3
Jims, Kevins, Scotts: 2 each
Weirdest name of person kissed: Boaz
Kisses initiated by me: 13
Kisses that took me by surprise: 8
Kisses instigated by games at Drama Parties: 6
Kisses that were technically cheating (on my part): 1
Kisses that were technically cheating (on their part): 3
Kisses that led immediately to second base: 37
Third base (conservative rules): 9
Home: 8
Whatever comes between third and home but isn't accounted for in the base system: 11
Kisses resulting in a ONS: 7
Kisses resulting in sexual assault: 1
Kisses that occurred in cars: 8
Away at school: 16
At summer camp: 1
In a bar: 26
While dancing: 5
While on vacation: 12
Most kisses over the course of a single evening: 7
Kisses I would take back if I could: 9
Kisses that occurred under the influence of alcohol: 67 (wow)
Kisses after which the person said "thank you": 2
Kisses that decimated friendships: 1
Kisses that were really really good: 7
Kisses that were really really bad: 8
Kisses that were supposed to be a secret: 3
Kisses that were: 0
Kisses that led to SEVERE infatuation: 12
Kisses that led to relationships: 5
Kisses that led to true love: 1

Oh Internets... why are the people we like and the people we're attracted to not always the same people? Furthermore, why we must be subject to silly things like logic and reason and morality when it comes to affairs of the heart? And dammit, since turning 30, how do i keep managing to attract 23 olds?

Another meme for the kids of the Reagan era...


( Read more... )

So it all started back in 96… but lets jump back even a tiny bit further to begin. I was the anti-smoking poster girl. Actually, I was pretty much the anti-everything poster girl. I was so good it hurt. I was vice-free. Well… except for boys. I've always been a sucker for their floppy-haired nonsense. But even with boys… I was a good girl. (OK, maybe a good girl with a bad reputation, but it was wholly undeserved!) I didn't drink. I didn't smoke. I didn't have sex. I went to church every Sunday. I was a freakin' ANGEL. And then I fell ;) But the moral of this back-story is that I was about as anti-smoking as they come, and probably pretty obnoxious about it.

I coughed and rolled my eyes at relatives who smoked. I was horrified when a few of my girlfriends lit up at the bars after Prom. When I got to college I nagged all my Freshmen friends about the dangers and horrors of smoking. I was relentless. And then, one evening at the legendary O'Briens, about 4 Alabama Slammers in, Michelle Sullivan whipped out a pack of Djarum Reds. And hers smelled sooo good, that when she offered me one – I took it. And the I proceeded to shock the hell out of her (and me) by lighting it, smoking it (although truth be told I mustn't have been inhaling because I didn't erupt instantaneously into a fit of coughing), and loooving it. I mean FUCK. With sugar dipped filters and that heavenly spiced aroma – how was I not going to love it? And so I had another. And another. Only at O'Briens, only with Michelle, but all winter break, there were delicious, delicious cloves.

Spring semester came & went with nary a puff, but oh the memory of those cloves was already etched upon my pliable teenage brain. So when summer rolled around and we were back at O'Brien's and "oh the horror!" OUT of cloves… it wasn't that huge of a leap for me to try my first Parliament Menthol Light. I don't even think I liked it. But it was minty, and made my head tingle, and it stuck. Even then, all summer long it was nighttime smoking only. The thought of inhaling hot smoke on the beach made me wretch – why would anyone ever smoke in the day time!? Ew. But that summer was intense for oh so many reasons, and I used my new habit for all it was worth. I packed my Parliaments like a champ. Upon opening a fresh pack I ceremoniously flipped one over and stuck it back in the pack where it would stay, somehow infused with "luckiness", until it was rolling around by its lonesome in the box, waiting for me to close my eyes, make a wish, and light it. And then there was the "angst" of it all… My very first chain-smoke was straight out of freaking John Hughes movie (only with a slightly less discerning soundtrack). I sat outside my bedroom window on the sidewalk, back up against the stone wall, headphones on, discman on "repeat single" nursing my freshly bruised heart with cigarettes and (dear lord) Donna Lewis' I Love You, Always, Forever. Melodramatic much? ::sigh::

By the end of the summer, I'd come down with a nasty case of mono (good god, how humiliating to have to call every boy I'd kissed in August to warn them), and so I started Sophomore year with orders from the doc to not even think about alcohol until October. School felt like a prison sentence, but cigarettes were still a relatively occasional thing, until my "haven't kissed you yet because I'm contagious, but you're so about to be my boyfriend" threw an all-night kegger – and well, what's a girl to do when she can't drink or make-out? I'll tell you - she chain smokes THREE packs of Parliaments without batting an eyelash. And while I'm fairly sure I was ill the next morning, that was the lynch pin right THERE. I was a smoker. I smoked. At parties, between classes, before exams, after dinner, after sex – I smoked. And I loved it. When I moved off campus Junior year, I moved in with three other girls and the FIRST thing we bought for the house were ashtrays. (The cute old-school metal kind with plaid beanbags underneath so that you can sit them just about anywhere and they'd stay) And that, my friends, is when the cartons started. We were a 20 minute drive from the Delaware state line & the glorious, glorious "Discount Cigarette Outlet". Cartons were something ridiculous like $22 a pop. And I started smoking non-menthols, because we'd all buy "house cartons" to share. We'd get 100's or 120's and called them "Divas". We bought Audrey Hepburn-esque holders and chain-smoked through countless viewings of Breakfast at Tiffany's. My favorite cigarette of the day became the one I'd have sitting on the couch in my bathrobe after stepping out of my morning shower –it was absolutely magical. We smoked in house, we smoked on the stoop, we smoked in bed, we smoked on the boardwalk, we all switched over to Camels and collected our Joe Cool Cash to buy… more cigarettes. We smoked in a box, we smoked with a fox, and well, you get the picture.

Then I got my first car, and a new love affair was born. Summer, Winter, rain, snow… as long as I could have the radio blasting, and a cigarette dangling in my left hand, I was golden. I felt like Keroac, I felt like I could go anywhere. This. This was what freedom was all about. Even after moving home, and cutting waaay back on my daily nicotine intake, I always had a personal smoking lounge with wheels. And that's just the way it went for years. I smoked while I was driving. I smoked at shows. Then (damn you Bloomberg!) I smoked outside shows. I made friends; I met boys, yummy boys who tasted like nicotine. And it was good. Until it wasn't. 8 years later, when I had given up my car and cut back on the shows by oh – 60%, I was down to about 2 cigarettes a day. Which was fine. Except that I'd still end up binging on them at parties and bars or whenever I was sad or stressed (or both). Oh, and they were still killing me. I found it easier and easier to go a day or two without so much as a drag. And one day, after smoking one sheerly out of habit, I realized, in disgust, that I was 30. I'd been smoking for nearly 12 years, and I wanted to quit. I never thought it would go on this long. I figured I'd grow up, get married, have kids, and basically just grow out of the habit. But smoking had become a crutch, an excuse, an addiction. I realized that I used cigarettes as a way to diffuse difficult conversations. They were a way of biting my tongue, of avoiding eye contact, of making those horribly pregnant pauses in conversation somehow seem less awkward. I was hiding behind a cloud of smoke. I had become a cliché. And so I said it out loud. I'd thought about quitting before; gone days, even a week here or there and thought, maybe that was my last pack. But I'd never announced it, never made it real. So I told my best smoking buddy, and he decided to quit with me. Then I started telling other friends that we were quitting. Then I told my parents (who practically leapt for joy) and so here I am - having finished the last of my New Year's pack, having purchased the "carpet bombing" of nicotine lozenges - 48 hours into my new life as a non-smoker, and it's really real. It's also really fucking weird.
But the lozenges are minty, and they make my head tingle, so I'm thinking… it just might stick.

Instructions:

1. The first article title on the Wikipedia Random Articles page (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random) is the name of your band.

2. The last four words of the very last quotation (or the whole quote if you like) on the Random Quotations page (http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3) is the title of your album.

3. The third picture in Flickr's Interesting Photos From The Last 7 Days (http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/) will be your album cover.

4. Use your graphics programme of choice to throw them together, and post the result.

Mine:

Its like I did my shows this year on the foreman grill - you know, "cut the fat". All that was left was exactly what I wanted to see. Which means even though I only attended 41 shows (62 sets) I had at LEAST a 90% AWESOME rating. And I'd say that's way better than ever before.

Some notes:
* I refuse to call Irving Plaza anything other than Irving Plaza
* My Upwelling count was only 6 this year - but I think it's fair
to say they played way less locally (yay touring & record deal!!)
* Suckiest Sound Ever award goes to The Highline Ballroom
(for equal parts earsplitting volume and feedback!)
* Favorite show of the year goes to... Travis
(for putting on a most magically delicious show)

1/18 - The Upwelling
(Mercury Lounge)
1/25 - Morning Theft
(Mercury Lounge)
1/26 - Ted Leo / The Forms
(Northsix)
1/26 - Freezepop
(Galapagos)
2/27 - Sparklehorse
(SPINhouse Live)
3/7 - Stellastarr*
(Gramercy Theater)
3/12 - Youth Group / The Submarines
(Slim's - SanFrancisco, CA)
3/13 - The Upwelling / Third Eye Blind
(The Fillmore - SanFrancisco, CA)
3/14 - The Upwelling / Third Eye Blind
(The Fillmore - SanFrancisco, CA)
4/11 - The Feeling / Mat Kearney
(Webster Hall)
4/24 - The Upwelling / Third Eye Blind
(Nokia Theater)
4/27 - The Upwelling / Third Eye Blind
(Starland Ballroom - Sayreville, NJ)
5/7 - Arcade Fire
(Apollo Theater)
5/8 - The Upwelling / Third Eye Blind
(Mulcahey's - Wantagh, NY)
5/31 - The National
(Bowery Ballroom)
6/5 - Interpol
(Bowery Ballroom)
6/19 - The White Stripes / Citizen's Band
(Irving Plaza)
6/23 - Bling Kong / Ad Frank
(TT the Bear's - Cambridge, MA)
6/26 - Ryan Adams
(Hiro Ballroom)
7/2 - RUSH
(Jones' Beach)
7/15 - Travis
(Irving Plaza)
7/22 - Aimee Mann / Ron Sexsmith
(The Planting Fields Arboretum - Oyster Bay, NY)
8/9 - Daft Punk / The Rapture
(Keyspan Park - Coney Island, NY)
8/17 - The National / The Forms
(South Street Seaport)
8/22 - Indigo Girls / Girlyman
(The Planting Fields Arboretum - Oyster Bay, NY)
8/23 - Stellastarr*
(The Highline Ballroom)
8/25 - Counting Crows / Live
(Dutchess Stadium - Fishkill, NY)
9/7 - The Upwelling / All American Rejects
(The Hilton - Atlantic City, NJ)
9/9 - Farm Aid
. Willie Nelson / Neil Young / John Mellencamp /
. Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds /
. The Allman Brothers / Counting Crows / Guster
(Ichan Stadium - Randall's Island, NY)
9/12 - Morning Theft
(Luna Lounge - Williamsburg)
9/21 - Tragedy / Super Diamond
(Irving Plaza)
9/25 - Bat For Lashes
(Bowery Ballroom)
9/28 - Rilo Kiley / Jonathan Rice
(Webster Hall)
10/11 - Tori Amos
(Wamu Theater @ MSG)
10/30 - The Forms
(Cake Shop)
10/31 - Ryan Adams
(Hammerstein Ballroom)
10/31 - Apes & Androids
(Warehouse on Wythe - Williamsburg)
11/3 - Gogol Bordello
(Terminal 5)
11/17 - Against Me! (encore only)
(Terminal 5)
12/9 - Yo La Tengo / Redd Kross
(Maxwell's - Hoboken, NJ)
12/29 - The Forms
(Union Hall - Brooklyn, NY)

or, you know, the yearly meme...

[1] what did you do in 2007 that you'd never done before?
go on a business trip, see San Fransisco

[2] did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't do resolutions, but my motto for the year was "no bullshit in 07" and I think I stuck pretty well to that. And I'm quitting smoking in 08. I've had enough.

[3] did anyone close to you give birth?
no

[4] did anyone close to you die?
thankfully, no.

[5] what countries did you visit?
Actually, I stayed firmly within the borders of our nation this year.

[6] what would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
ha. Less chaos? A general plan for life? An actual boyfriend?

[7] what date(s) from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
April 17th – the flood
August 18th – My 30th Birthday Celebration

[8] what was your biggest achievement of the year?
surviving

[9] what was your biggest failure?
not actually subletting for the summer? Lucky for me I have kick ass friends.

[10] did you suffer any illness or injury?
stupid banana-peel upset has ended my year on an ouchy note with the sprained wrist, etc

[11] what was the best thing you bought?
my gorgeous gown for Audrey's wedding

[12] whose behavior merited celebration?
Audrey & Adam tying the knot, my family for pulling together, Jed & the Ingber-Stearns for their hospitality

[13] whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
esurance for screwing over my dad

[14] where did most of your money go?
California? Ha, and I suppose re-building my wardrobe...

[15] what did you get really, really, really excited about?
Going to Napa, the Upwelling getting signed.

[16] what song will always remind you of 2007?
The National – Mistaken for Strangers it just… fit this year somehow.

[17] compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder?
happier I think.

ii. thinner or fatter?
about the same

iii. richer or poorer?
richer

[18] what do you wish you'd done more of?
running. I kept getting derailed by completely unrelated injuries, but I was enjoying it.

[19] what do you wish you'd done less of?
living out of boxes

[20] how will you be spending Christmas?
I spent it with my family. Lots and lots of family :)

[22] did you fall in love in 2007?
no

[23] how many one-night stands?
zero

[24] what was your favorite TV program?
Friday Night Lights!

[25] do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
no. and I feel really good about that.

[26] what was your favorite book?
wow, I read SO much this year... I may have to give it to Harry Potter by default.
Otherwise – Pamela DeBarres' "Im With The Band". Loved it.

[27] what was your greatest musical discovery?
so much of 07 was about new albums from bands I already loved. But I'll go with Mika.

[28] what did you want and get?
for Audrey and Adam to have an amazing wedding day

[29] what did you want and not get?
my life to settle

[30] what was your favorite film of this year?
Juno

[31] what did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I had an amazing weekend of shows and drinks and bbq, and an amazingly beautiful dinner with some of the best friends a girl could ask for. And I was 30.

[32] what one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I would have liked a second date.

[33] how would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
bitten.

[34] what kept you sane?
the beach

[35] which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Riggins. Yum.

[36] what political issue stirred you the most?
the utter lack of a presidential candidate that "stirs" me

[37] who did you miss?
Lawrence – who I feel like was MIA for a lot of this year, and Motor.

[38] who was the best new person you met?
Did I meet anyone this year? I guess Aigner. It was good to finally meet him.

[39] tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007:
in the end, all the "stuff" we hold onto doesn't matter as long as we have our memories. also, we accumulate a lot of CRAP

[40] quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"We expected something, something better than before. We expected something more."

But I finally found something this morning that expressed a feeling I've been having - and felt guilty about having. Or have been made to feel guilty about having? In any event, let me preface all this by stating, unequivocally, that I am not "anti-green". Not that there necessarily is an "anti-green" movement, but I think you know what I mean... I'm not off to club baby seals over the head, I don't think we should be building cars with lower & lower mpg rates, and I'm not in favor of dumping toxic waste into the oceans. I am, however, in favor of clubbing the next person who brags about how “green” their existence is.

Now, having said that...

I do not currently own a car. It doesn’t make a lot of sense for me to own one right now. If it did, and I was looking for a new one, I would probably be in the market for a hybrid, but mainly for their excellent mileage, and because I don't have a family of my own to cart all over g*d's green earth. (pun - sort of intentional) I do still occasionally drive, and I feel zero guilt when I do. I would pick driving over taking the bus 9 out of 10 times, because let’s face it - if you have to be stuck in traffic, you'd rather not be stuck with 40 strangers in an enclosed space that smells vaguely of fast food, industrial-strength air-freshener, and tidy bowl. My ‘druthers aside, like most people, I take the bus when I have to. Public transportation makes my world go 'round in a big way and I'm fine with that. But I live in the epicenter of the best public transportation system in the world, (I'm completely making that statement up - I have no idea if there's a more complex system out there somewhere, and I’m too engaged in what I'm writing this second to go and look it up. But from personal experience, NYC has the best transit systems going, and the rest of the Northeast corridor does pretty well for itself too) and I don't dare to judge anyone else living outside this glorious radius of convenient public transportation.

I don't buy carbon off-sets. When I first heard of them I thought for sure that someone was pulling a fast one on the eco-conscious elite. (Just think about that for a second... maybe it's just the cynical New Yorker in me but come ON, it sounds suspiciously like a snake oil pitch) I'm happy to say that I was wrong - these offsets appear to be perfectly legit and I get, even respect, what they aim to do. Personally, I think there are charities that deserve my limited funds more, but to each their own, and more power to anyone who chooses to donate to any worthy cause - green, red, purple-polka-dotted or otherwise.

My problem with the big green wave is that it's becoming (or really, has already become) FAD-tastic. The Media is all over it, Madison avenue is all over it, and Hollywood seemingly started it - which makes the whole thing reek of insincerity to begin with. It's an inconvenient truth in a town built for convenience. Hollywood is so full of existential guilt that it cannot function without a cause to anoint, and this is it. And I don't think I'm alone when I say that the advertising campaigns for this holiday season alone make me want to scream "ENOUGH ALREADY!". This whole practice of labeling anything and everything even remotely close to being environmentally-friendly "GREEN" and promoting it as if it might literally be the next messiah ("save the earth!") is nauseating. The air of smug self-righteousness that the movement seems to have developed in the last two years is equally awful.

There is no "saving the earth". One day, the entire planet will be consumed by the sun & that will be it. It would be nice, in the meantime, if we could manage to get along a little better, preserve some quality of life, and manage not to slowly kill off all species entirely before the sun finishes the job. There are things we can all do to encourage our survival as a species. I’m all for recycling, reducing our dependence on oil by making sustainable energies more practical, preserving what’s left of our more “untouched” wilderness, even planting new wildernesses… but nothing we do - (including extinction) is going to stop "global warming". Slow it down? Possibly. Stop it? No. If every human on the earth vanished tomorrow (ala Will Smith's new apocalyptic thriller) the earth would still get warmer. No matter what we do, the weather will get crazier, certain countries and shorelines will end up under water, and then it's going to get really really cold. Elephants will start growing fur coats & the planet will change again. Because that's what it does - and blindly accepting the words of marketing geniuses and kowtowing to the altar of "Green" in order to satisfy some existential crisis and feel somehow universally significant and superior to those who cannot afford the luxury of sustainable living - isn't going to change that.

This hasn’t necessarily been very cohesive, convincing or even coherent for that matter. By now I’m probably coming off like some bitter, raving lunatic. But here is a tidbit from the article that (along with every billboard/store window/news story/magazine feature I’ve been subjected to over the last 6 months) sparked my little rant:

In terms of the great green ledger in the sky, there is no way for most of us to know whether expending the energy to produce 6,000 pounds of shredded paper topiaries is really a “better” choice than just flying in crates of carnations, or whether making tables and chairs out of recycled cardboard makes more sense than just renting them. As Mr. Stark pointed out, what you’re really dealing with are symbols.

James B. Twitchell, a professor of English and advertising at the University of Florida, agrees. “It’s all about symbols and sensation,” said Professor Twitchell, whose many books deal with how marketing shapes a society. “That’s what I find so fascinating about our Prius culture. We know things are wrong. We don’t know what we can do. We can’t know. And so we do what marketers encourage us to do to get those feelings we want to have. We buy the Prius, we recycle at the party, pretty much overlooking the fact that what we know about these objects and these actions comes from their marketing.”

Dear You,

You, who still calls me, "you", (just as you always did, soft and lilting, as if we were beyond the need for names) one of the last tattered trappings of an intimacy worn thin over too much distance, too much silence... once upon a time, I dreamed I knew you. And maybe, upon waking, that dream wasn't quite what I'd imagined. To see you now, exactly the same as you always were, it seems impossible that we should be strangers, yet even more improbable that we ever were beyond that. I wish I knew you. I wish I'd known you - I think I always wanted to, meant to. You were so charming, so effortless with everyone... but I wanted behind the music, I wanted all-access. And maybe I didn't end up with a laminate, but I like to think I hung out backstage for a bit. Its just not the same now, maybe I'm spoiled, maybe I'm too used to getting my way (maybe that's the same thing?) but I can't bear to watch the show from GA with the rest of the unwashed masses.

I can't always have what I want (possibly because half the time I don't know what that is) I'm well aware of this, and sometimes what I want doesn't exist outside my overactive imagination. Maybe this is all there is. Maybe knowing you really was a dream... even that lilting "you", who am I to say if it was ever meant just for me, or if it just felt that way. Maybe we've reached a point where friendship is a silly, girlish notion. Then again, everything about me was silly and girlish when I was around you. Maybe I haven't grown up so very much in the interim? I don't know, I don't know... maybe I did.

I think I make you nervous these days, and I wish that weren't so. If I were a little stronger, a little surer of myself, I would set you at ease. I would be the one to reach out, offer my hand, and fly us up & out of our stifling, safe little spot. But the truth is, for all my grand talk, I'm scared to death. And this, this open letter of sorts, is about as far up as my happy thoughts can carry me (and I'm still white knuckling the bedpost). I took my time, I've risen this far on my own, and this is where I am. And even if you never see this, even if I'm just talking to myself, I know I put it out there. I may make a better Wendy than a Tink, (I always knew as much) but you know I do believe in faeries, I do. I do.


Never & Always,
me

I have this theory that all the major parts of my life can not go well at the same time. Or really, that the best and the worst events of my life seem to coincide rather dramatically. I've openly referred to this as my "theory of convergences", (which I completely stole from Diane Court, and by extension Cameron Crowe - it always comes back to Crowe doesn't it?)

"I have this theory of convergence, that good things always happen with bad things. I know you have to deal with them at the same time, but I just don't know why they have to happen at the same time. I just wish I could work out some schedule. Am I just babbling? Do you know what I mean?" - Diane Court
"No." - Lloyd Dobbler

I didn't know what she meant either. Until I did. It was November 11, 1990, I was 14. A bunch of us went to go see the movie Avalon - which I think might be a very good movie, but seeing as how we were very busy throwing popcorn and slowly re-arranging our seats from all boy & all girl rows to a more daring "boy-girl, boy-girl" configuration, I really didn't notice. All I know is that Tony Sayegh went out of his way to sit next to ME, and magically enough, three hours (and several frenzied phone calls from my bff Katie McGurn) later, he was my first real boyfriend.

I was suitably giddy (which for a 14 year old girl, means I was barely containing myself from doing continuous back flips) and smiling from ear to ear, and then the phone rang. I lunged for it, certain it would be Tony. But it wasn't. It was my uncle Jeff, who in an uncharacteristically shaky voice, asked for my mother. I could hear my Aunt crying in the background, and I just knew what had happened. My heart dropped into my stomach as I shouted for my mother to pick up the line, and then I covered the mouth of the receiver and waited for him to say what I knew he would, "Gayle, Joe died this afternoon". And I then I hung up. I hung up as if that would somehow make it not true. That my 84 year old Grandfather, who'd been unsuccessfully recovering from a stroke for 11 months, who had deteriorated to the point of mistaking me for my 28 year old cousin, to forgetting his children's names, to needing a nursing home and finally a feeding tube, that this man who I'd just barely gotten to know, was gone. I cried. And I cried more when my father came home and my mother sat him down to tell him his father had passed on. He crumbled, and my heart broke open. An hour later, the phone rang again. This time it WAS Tony, and my heart beat triple time when my mother handed me the phone. And that was the way of it. My first tastes of love and death in the same day, and from that day forward, the theory of convergences was real to me.

Now I'm not sure if it just became a self-fulfilling prophecy, or if my life really did always balance out something good with something bad, but I believed in it. Especially when it came to boys: James came with Mono; Scott created a rift in my family dynamics (and then his house burned down); When Kris and I finally got together my uncle died, my cousin's suicide brought us back together years later; Joe ended up destroying my most precious friendship; and everyone since then... well, there have been consequences for almost all of them. Sometimes it's directly related, sometimes it's coincidental, but as a result - I don't trust happiness. I may give into it occasionally, but it inevitably betrays me. And I'm always, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I could get back up if you insist, but you'll have to ask politely

here's the thing. I've been sad lately. and by "lately", I mean "for a while", and by "a while" I mean nearly a year. Now I am prone to bouts of melancholy, as is well WELL documented here, but this year has been different. For one, I haven't cried as much. Real tears, on people's shoulders - whatever. It's been a much quieter, much softer sadness. The kind that creeps in on me like shadows, falling in the absence of light. It seeps into voids in conversation, in activity, in life... filling up each gap, darkness spilling over from one into the next, finding new cracks in my facade along its way. And I feel it, I feel it everyday. My tolerance is weak, I snap at what i once might have laughed off, I'm angry and sad and holding it all together on the outside is becoming such a burden that I retreat all too often from the glare of the public.

At first my sadness would come like summer shower, intense but brief and almost cathartic. Now it's more like a drizzle or a mist, but one so pervasive that you'd barely notice it except for the shivering. And I am. Shivering. It's instinct. It's survival. This overwhelming and involuntary movement you make to stay warm. And I can feel my brain jolt violently, trying to generate warmth, trying to shake free of this mist, this cloud it has settled into. And it works, for a while. I have good days. I create them with good friends and good conversations, I feed them with beautiful music. And I manufacture hope. Yes, I manufacture it these days. THAT is what is different. THAT is what is missing this time around.

I haven't ever had much luck with love, and haven't ever really had much ambition of my my own past that. But as beaten down as I've been by love, by life, by circumstances (inside or outside of my control), I was ok. I had hope. The "springs eternal" kind. And I had it by the boatload. Faith, not only in a cosmic order of things... but that somehow that grand design would bless me with some version of the life I'd always dreamed of for myself. And that faith was tested, that hope brought to its knees, and yet always proved steadfast before. Only I'm tired now. Its too heavy for me to shoulder, and it hangs limply by my side. Like an apparition that one might see, but can't quite believe in. Maybe it's part of getting older, more than likely its having what feels like my last vestiges of innocence undone. Whatever the impetus, I looked up one day and honestly considered that it might not happen for me, that I might live my life entirely without ever making my dreams into some semblance of reality. And when I let the weight of that realization sink in, it felt so heavy, so heavy I fear I may not be able to shake free from it this time. Hope my shield, or perhaps my cataract, I'd never accepted the possibility before.

So where does that leave me? Do I valiantly set out, change direction and plot a new course? Find a road to contentedness with or without love, my dreams, my family? Is that giving in? Is that giving up? Or is that being realistic? Or do I dig in my heels, stick with what I know, aim for what I've always wanted & hope I don't come up short? Maybe choosing isn't what scares me. Maybe there's not really a choice after all, and that is what is most disturbing. I know all I can do is let go. Let go of expectation, let go of hope and doubt altogether and just free fall into the unknown. Stop worrying about the future and concentrate on my now, on me and what I am, not what I would be. But damn that's hard. You've got to move clouds for that. and well, much as i've come to love the rain, sometimes I just wish I had an umbrella.

So as it turns out... I used to be funny. I used to write witty anecdotes about my life and the boys in it, and people would laugh. Mostly my friends, but even the occasional stranger would say, "hey you, you're funny with the writing and the snark". And I wrote about music. Even though I always thought that what I had to say about it wasn't all that important, that it didn't matter as much as people I knew who had extensive backgrounds in critical writing or libraries full of indie rock albums from which to pull comparisons or suggest influences. Mostly I wrote what I knew... which as it turned out, was mostly what I felt. How a band, or a show, or a song made me feel, and I was comfortable with that. It was something I could speak about with absolute authority, it was something that couldn't be challenged, I was the one and only expert on the subject. But mostly I wrote about the boys, because they were amusing, fascinating even. To watch and see how our interactions would change, to document the fleeting whirl of feelings that I'd touch upon with each one. Which conversations made me laugh, which actions made me roll my eyes... which boys gave me butterflies by just standing near by, and which boys I thought might have promise in a slow-to-boil kind of way.

It was delicious for sure, this diet of live music, late nights & decadent flirtations, but in the end wasn't it just a lot of empty calories? Maybe not entirely empty – I mean I did sustain myself for years on the stuff. But I can't help feeling that it sustained me much in the way that cheap beer & pizza sustain the average college student – which is to say that you can live on the stuff, but 4 years, a drop in your metabolic rate an additional 15 lbs later, you know better than to try to keep it up... or well, assuming you made it through 4 years of higher learning, you should know better. Besides, as amazing as cheap beer & pizza can be (and there are still occasions when you're craving it and nothing else will do) there are so many more nourishing, more delectable meals out there: incredible salads, tender pasta, fresh sushi & sashimi. There are good vodkas that don't leave you hung-over, and fine wines that actually get better (as opposed to skunked) with age. The truth of the matter is that I'm not in college anymore. And I haven't been for quite sometime, so perhaps my tastes should reflect that. I have been slowly changing, moving away from what was into what is. And the truth is I like "what is". I do. I want to eat in fancy restaurants, learn to whip up decadent dishes in my own kitchen, savor the latest and greatest cabernet blends... but I think part of me doesn't believe I deserve it quite yet. Or can't afford it. Or something. Whatever it is, I'm having trouble bridging the gap, making that transition without eschewing what came before. How can I honestly say, "ok, I want to be a grown up now" without a) admitting that my life up until this point has been juvenile or 2) running screaming for safety to the non-committal, low responsibility shores of Neverland?

Hmmn. I seem to have talked myself into circles again. I almost had a point there, and yet it seems to have eluded me again. ::sigh:: ok, lets give this another try:
The problem is this... I'll look back at the past, wax nostalgic and say whatever happened to that girl? The one who was funny and loved music with an unbridled passion, the one who could love and laugh so easily, who could fall with grace, brush herself off & get right back up again ? and I start to bemoan the person I've become. I start to think of myself as jaded & hopeless. But the truth of the matter is that while, yes, I am more guarded now, I wasn't exactly happier then. Not really. I still longed for things I didn't have, for people I'd lost, for the youth I felt even then that I'd squandered... but what I had then, more so than now, was the luxury of time.

When I stumbled, or caught myself procrastinating, it wasn't ever a big deal to me. I brushed it off because I could chalk it up to being young & stupid... but I'm starting to think that window for using that excuse is nearly over. I'm turning 30 in a little less than 90 days. And while that doesn't prevent me from making stupid choices, (and ok, it doesn’t really make me old – especially in today's 30 is the new 20 culture) I feel as I 'm going to really have to start owning up to my decisions – bad or good. In short, I feel as though I'm going to have to start owning up to my life. I need to plot my own direction, and take some sort of action to get there. And that means I have to stop incessantly looking over my shoulder with rose colored glasses and whining about all the fun I was having way back when. The grass was never really greener - it is what it is, even now. And I am still that girl... that funny, glass half full, music loving, vodka drinking, "friend to anyone in crisis" girl. Making myself accountable for my own life doesn't mean changing who I am, it just means paying a little more attention to the decisions I make. ummm, especially BEFORE you make them oh yeah. right. BEFORE I make them.

And boys are still amusing, i don't expect that will change anytime soon. ha. and i really do intend to resume dating, or at least crushing shortly. i just feel like my interests would be better served if i had a little more of my life figured out before i go and throw new boys into the mix. good god, new boys. i'm exhausted just thinking about it.

i never really thought of pictures as finite. as carefully as we handle them... holding the corners so as not to get fingerprints all over, I suppose some part of me realized they were delicate... but still somehow I thought no matter what, they'd always exist, always be there as a testament to my life. Also? we take a lot of pointless pictures. So many of them that don't matter to us at all... and let me tell you, when attempting to rescue pictures, there is no rhyme or reason to which ones stay intact and which ones are lost for good. I don't even know why i'm bothering to document this little thought process... i'm just tired & sore from standing bent over at the sink trying to pull memories apart. Oh, another thing? If you ever happen to have all your pictures beleaguered in water... the correct answer is to freeze them within 72 hours. I had no idea this was the protocol. I wish to god that I'd known though... aside from I'm sure many many more memories i could have saved - i'm probably killing myself by inhaling all this lovely mold & mildew.


on a slightly related note... I was prepared for fire. Wen i was a little girl, i had a plan, a course of action for what to do if the smoke alarm woke me up in the middle of the night. journals. bear. pictures. music. that was the plan. even then I knew that although you're not supposed to try and save anything, that these were the things worth saving. everything else is replaceable. what i never considered was that water could erase my life as quickly as fire. never, not even once did I ever think i'd need to know to freeze wet books, or pictures, or letters, or postcards, or that I should have written all my journals in waterproof ink so that my words wouldn't end up smeared blotches bleeding together on the clingy pages.

ok. time to attempt to save a few more memories... why is the past so damn important to me anyways? Part of me thinks i should have shrugged, said oh well, so much for that, and looked to the future. but i can't. i guess part of me will always hold to the notion that there is no future without the past. meh. sundays.

A tale of three boys

The party of the first part:

ok, let's be honest... I loved him. I can hem & haw all I want about infatuation and long distance and extreme circumstances & fate - but I loved him. I loved him from almost the first moment - which is ridiculous, because I don't do that. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, maybe it was the knight in shining armor bit, maybe it was the pink fuzzy handcuffs... ok it probably wasn't the handcuffs - I don't even technically remember those. Whatever it was, it was immediate, it was electric, and I was giddy and smiling from day one. The way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, the way he touched me... I have never felt more beautiful or alive than I did when I was with him. I didn't care where things were going, I didn't care that he was so far away, all I knew was that I wanted to be with him whenever I could for as long as I could. And then the world came crashing down, and I don't think he ever looked at me the same way again. Not that I can fault him, he was good to me. He was patient and kind and almost loving... almost. At the very least, part of him wanted to be there for me. Some noble, gracious part of him... but he didn't love me anymore, and honestly? maybe he never did. Maybe it was infatuation, maybe he was scared, maybe I didn't turn out to be the girl he imagined me to be, maybe an intensity like that can't last, maybe it was never meant to... I don't know. In any case, I was too proud to be his good deed, and I was too weak to fight him, so I summoned whatever strength I had left and said goodbye. In the end I'm not even sure he was the one who broke my heart, I probably did that myself.

The party of the second part:

He made me smile. You're thinking, "that sounds easy, she's a smiley kind of girl", but trust me – at that point in time, it was an all too arduous task. I thought the numbness would last forever, but it didn't. I thought I could never trust myself again, but I found I could at least try. He made me feel less alone, less like I was floating away on my own iceberg. I could talk to him for hours about anything and everything. And I knew he was an amateur at best, but that was alright, maybe even better, safer at least. We were silly and awkward and smiling, and I think we liked each other a whole lot. In some ways, it was like joint therapy – only he was so focused on his own healing, I don’t think he ever really noticed that I was in emotional rehab too. He was easy - in that pull on your favorite jeans kind of way. He felt good, maybe even reliable... and then he was gone. I was surprised, but not shocked. My ego smarted, but the rest of me carried on without much ado. Still, he's a good boy, and when I see him, I can't help but smile.

The party of the third part:

I met him while I was with the party of the first part, so he was pretty much doomed to begin with. When he met me I was in love, at ease, and wearing a dress that bordered on scandalous. He was sweet, charming, and rather dashing in his tux, but at the end of the evening I absconded with my Prince, and honestly never looked back. When he re-surfaced some months after the party of the second part, I thought he might be just what I needed. Smitten, stable, quirky… maybe too quirky? I think essentially, we existed on different planes. He would attempt to be witty and charming, and I would see him as peculiar and churlish. And I was mean. I am almost never mean, and I was completely bitchy and obnoxious around him. Perhaps part of it was that every time I thought of him, I was immediately reminded of the party of the first part, and how woefully different this prospective relationship was from the whirlwind that was. I couldn't seem to give him an honest shot at making me happy and I don't know why.

ok, so for those of you who are counting - that's 18 Upwelling shows.

(plus i think 3 are Ari acoustic?)

1/10 - Ari (residency)
(Fat Baby, nyc)
1/19 - Upwelling
(Tom & Jerry's, Philadelphia)
1/24 - Ari (residency)
(Fat Baby, nyc)
2/3 - Morning Theft
(Cousin Larry's, Danbury)
2/17 - Upwelling/Towers of London/AAR
(Shephard's Bush Empire, London)
2/18 - Upwelling/Towers of London/AAR
(Shephard's Bush Empire, London)
2/19 - James Blunt
(Brixton Academy, London)
2/28 - Upwelling
(Mercury Lounge, nyc)
3/25 - The Gossip
(The Knitting Factory, nyc)
3/27 - Stellastarr*
(Bowery Ballroom, nyc)
3/29 - Morning Theft
(The Bitter End, nyc)
3/30 - The Editors
(Webster Hall, nyc)
4/4 - Upwelling (residency)
(Pianos, nyc)
4/6 - Nous Non Plus, Die Romantik, La Laque
(Hiro, nyc)
4/7 - South
(Bowery Ballroom, nyc)
4/11 - Upwelling (residency)
(Pianos, nyc)
4/13 - Upwelling / Hoobastank
(Hard Rock Cafe, nyc)
4/18 - Upwelling (residency)
(Pianos, nyc)
4/20 - Elbow
(Webster Hall, nyc)
4/25 - Upwelling (residency)
(Pianos, nyc)
5/2 - Upwelling Acoustic w/ The Primms
(Pianos, nyc)
5/3 - Cold War Kids
(Pianos, nyc)
5/6 - Bamboozle: Fall Out Boy
(Meadowlands, nj)
5/16 - Morning Theft / The GoStation
(knitting factory tap bar, nyc)
5/24 - Say Anything
(Spin House Live, nyc)
5/30 - Upwelling
(Mercury Lounge, nyc)
6/9 - Gogol Bordello
(Irving Plaza, nyc)
6/15 - Young Love
(The Annex, nyc)
6/22 - Angels & Airwaves / Taking Back Sunday
(Six Flags, nj)
6/23 - Keane
(Bowery Ballroom, nyc)
6/24 - Ryan Adams
(Bowery Ballroom, nyc)
6/29 - Madonna
(Madison Square Garden, nyc)
7/3 - The Futureheads
(Eugene, nyc)
7/6 - Georgie James
(Great Scotts, Boston)
7/20 - Josh Rouse
(Castle Clinton, nyc)
7/22 - Damien Rice / Fiona Apple
(Jones Beach Theater, Wantagh)
7/26 - Damien Rice / Fiona Apple
(Central Park Summerstage, nyc)
8/5 - Warped Tour: Motion City Soundtrack, Thursday
(Nassau Collesium)
8/8 - Young Love / Radio 4
(Crash Mansion, nyc)
9/7 - Upwelling / Meet Me in Montauk
(The Saint, Asbury Park, nj)
9/8 - Augustana / Snow Patrol
(Roseland, nyc)
9/19 - Emily Haines
(Joe's Pub)
9/22 - The Killers
(Webster Hall, nyc)
9/28 - Upwelling
(The Saint, Asbury Park, nj)
10/14 - Upwelling / Tea Leaf Green
(Irving Plaza, nyc)
10/26 - Upwelling / Third Eye Blind
(Mulcahy's, Wantagh)
10/28 - Upwelling / Third Eye Blind
(Webster Hall, Hartford, Ct)
11/1 - Upwelling (CMJ)
(Lion's Den, nyc)
11/2 - Marcus Eaton (CMJ)
(Cutting Room, nyc)
11/2 - Kaki King (CMJ)
(Living Room, nyc)
11/4 - The Forms (CMJ)
(Bar 169, nyc)
11/11 - Imogen Heap
(Avalon, Boston)
11/13 - The Go Station
(Avalon, nyc)
11/16 - stellastar*
(Lexus, nyc)
11/29 - Ari / The Sketches
(Arlene's Grocery, nyc)
12/9 - Upwelling
(Triumph Brewery, New Hope, PA)
12/18 - Gogol Bordello
(Hiro, nyc)

[1] what did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before?
Go to London

[2] did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't do resolutions

[3] did anyone close to you give birth?
nope

[4] did anyone close to you die?
My Motor cat.

[5] what countries did you visit?
England
Canadia

[6] what would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
freedom from a car payment, my own apt

[7] what date(s) from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
July 4th - for a lot of reasons

[8] what was your biggest achievement of the year?
finding a job in the City

[9] what was your biggest failure?
not reaching "undeniability"

[10] did you suffer any illness or injury?
not really

[11] what was the best thing you bought?
my plane ticket to London

[12] whose behavior merited celebration?
Lawrence. (when I didn't want to kill him), My Girls.

[13] whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Mine maybe? There are other likely candidates, but I'm not one for public floggings...

[14] where did most of your money go?
Train tickets. Of all varieties.

[15] what did you get really, really, really excited about?
Seeing the Upwelling open for AAR in London with Audra.

[16] what song will always remind you of 2006?
Kate Bush – This Woman's Work
(I know it's like 20 years old, but I'll never hear it again without thinking of this year)

[17] compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder?
sadder, although I wasn't really leaping for joy this time last year either

ii. thinner or fatter?
Thinner. By a lot. And psyched about that.

iii. richer or poorer?
Richer.

[18] what do you wish you'd done more of?
I wish I'd gotten more beach days in. This year was woefully lacking in sand-time. And reading, I wish I'd read more.

[19] what do you wish you'd done less of?
motherfucker.

[20] how will you be spending christmas?
I spent it with my family. Lots and lots of family :)

[22] did you fall in love in 2006?
yes.

[23] how many one-night stands?
none!

[24] what was your favorite TV program?
Grey's Anatomy. Because I'm scary & damaged.

[25] do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
hate is a strong word.

[26] what was your favorite book?
Heathen Girls – Luanne Jones.
It wasn't the deepest thing I read all year, but I really did like it.

[27] what was your greatest musical discovery?
discovery... discovery... um, oh! Eeeeeeemo! Or as Emily puts it, "pop punk".
Seriously, it was like discovering what high school could have been ;)

[28] what did you want and get?
a boy

[29] what did you want and not get?
a man

[30] what was your favorite film of this year?
erm... movies I actually saw this year were pretty "meh".
I liked Marie Antoinette though.

[31] what did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was disappointed. And I was 29.

[32] what one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I'm not even going to try to answer this question.

[33] how would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
I wouldn't. It was "whatever fits". But I'd say there was a bit more 70s to me this year.

[34] what kept you sane?
writing.

[35] which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Mc Dreamy. Duh.

[36] what political issue stirred you the most?
my own.

[37] who did you miss? & [38] who was the best new person you met?
I missed Motor so much this fall. It was hard not to have him to curl up with when i was sad.

New person? Laura. She's made this year (and our job) a million times better than it ever could have been without her.

[39] tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006:
We are, all of us, capable of so much more than we know.

[40] quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"I know you have a little life in you yet, I know you have a lot of strength left"

This is why I don't like boys:

I am currently, at work. I should be thinking – about work. Instead, I am trying to figure out what I did wrong this weekend that might explain why the boy whose bed I was in as of oh 3:30 Saturday afternoon, should not have called me since. Or replied to the very non-threatening text I sent him Saturday night. That's 32 hours for those of you keeping track at home. (well, 32 hours since the text, 42 hours since we last spoke) Speaking of when we last spoke – it was a bit suspicious. Given, I had about 5 minutes to catch my bus & he knew this, but the goodbye was very abrupt & did not end with "I'll call you" – almost pointedly so. Instead, he said something along the lines of we'll talk soon. Very non-committal. I fucking hate that. Actually, I don't. What I do hate is the "lets see each other 6 times in 2 weeks, with 5 days of intermittent phone interaction & then... Nooothing. No. thing. Makes a girl very uncomfortable. Very.

I really thought I did the right thing this weekend, but now I'm second guessing myself all over the place. Maybe I didn't do enough of the right thing? I don't know. Maybe I said too much, maybe I should have agreed to go running – in his shoes? And best of all… I am probably making WAY more of this than it's worth. He may text me this afternoon & all my worrying will have been for naught. Or he won't. I don't know. This waiting just sucks. I mean doesn't he know he was doing everything right before? Doesn't he know that's what made him special? Worth spending a night with? And now he's acting just like every other boy and it's disappointing. I mean this was the most important call. The "I just spend some quality partially-naked time with you & I didn't hate that" call. The lack of which has the power to send even the most jaded "lets just wait and see what happens" girl into a tailspin of insecurity.

Right. So that – in a nutshell, is why I don't like boys.

Also... I used to love Greek Myths, and sex. Now I don't so much. There is so much pent up anger and rage that I have at eros right now it is unbelievable. I want him out, I want him gone form my thoughts, gone from my memories. I think I'm starting to see that I was in love with him. This may not have been the forever kind of love, but it was the soul crushing kind for sure. I hate that I'm so scared of this new relationship. I hate that this boy who I struggled to stay casual with has managed to take me down to such lows of insecurity. Why am I reliving this today? What the hell is wrong with me that I'm angry NOW? God. I knew I wasn't ready for this. I knew on some level I would be too raw yet. But I had no idea this much was waiting just below the surface - ready to be triggered. And I feel like I'm angry at the whole world. At boyD for pushing me to talk to eros again. Or for fucking vanishing on me. I mean, I didn't want him to have to be the one to pick up the pieces again, but fuck – would it KILL him to pick up the phone once in a while to see how I'm doing? And hwsnbn. With his lecture-ific im. And boyD again. For telling me that i ought to go through life convinced that I'll always be alone.

And the really really sad thing is that i don't think I'm angry at any of them at all. I'm just frustrated with my self-inflicted isolation. No one can be there for me, because I can't seem to articulate what it is I need at all. Possibly because I don't know.