Tuesday, May 13, 2008

The Week That Was

Oh, Hai There!

My how time flies when you're not blogging. I haven't posted in a week and I think that's the longest I've gone without doing so ever since I started this personal experiment / exercise in self-wankery way back in January. Last week was l-o-n-g as in I thought I might atrophy at work and I was trying desperately not to get sick. My coworker let me in on her stash of Zicam which she should've never introduced me to since I will now add it to my arsenal of over the counter snake oils that do nothing, but which make me think that I can bend God's will.

I staved off the head cold from hell for the most part, but I'm sure my copious consumption of alcohol mixed with no sleep and a Kills concert on Friday didn't really help the situation much. Whatevs, I'm feeling better now and am ready to take on the next concert life throws at me. Or not since I've gone into concert rehab and don't plan on coming out for a while. The reason is twofold: I would like to not blow my retirement on ticketmaster fees and I am officially too old for concerts.

Sure that's an exaggeration, but what I definitely am is no longer willing to put up with all the bullshit that comes along with attending a concert. This was proven to me last Wednesday when Brian, Jason, and I went to see Cut Copy at Abbey Pub where I was assaulted with a torrent of painfully drunk girls who just wanted to dance... and bump into me repeatedly with their giant douchey purses.


There were also a smattering of jag-offs in backwards baseball caps who were for the most part inert, but who managed to raise my ire nonetheless.

I was pretty pissed when we left since I had to school two separate ladies on the importance of not being annoying, and when we left there wasn't a cab in sight. I know I was being a giant bitchface - I have since apologized to both Jason and Brian for my behavior during our cab-seeking Odyssey - but it was 1:30 am and I had to work the next day. I know, my own fault, but when baby's tired and done, baby is tired and done.

Friday saw a much rosier John take on the world of concerts once again with The Kills at Metro.

Before the show Brian, Leah, and I all had a great - albeit slow - dinner at Jai Yen on Broadway and then headed over just as The Kills were coming on. Everything was so different this time, and I can't just attribute it to being the weekend or my attitude changing or whatever; the crowd was older, the venue was larger, The Kills killed it... oh I went there.

Saturday was spent looking at expensive mid-century furniture that I covet, but can't afford and later Brian and I capped the evening off with some Garlic Shitake Brown Rice Pilaf - or some such nonsense - that I made from scratch. We also had salmon which I kind of fibbed on since I let Trader Joe's do all the work for me by marinating it for me. And P.S., who knew cooking rice pilaf was so f-ing hard?

Finally, Sunday was, well, sunday. It was totally monsoon-ing outside and so I stayed in and attempted not to think about how this is the seventh Mother's Day I have not spent with my mother. Let's not even get started about how in just a few short days (the 17th) it will have been eight years since she died. I know, buzz kill, but I seem to be thinking more about these anniversaries this year since my roommate's friend just had her mother pass away, and currently my good friend's father is sick at home. From what I hear, everyone knows what's coming and the prospects aren't good.

It's difficult to wrap my head around the topic of dead parents since I feel like I should have some sage advice or something for people who are facing losing a parent, but when the time comes, I never do. It always comes down to the same old catch-all: I'm so sorry, which is true, but doesn't really get you anywhere. Regardless, it needs to be said.

I think the fact of the matter is that if you're in your twenties (or your teens) and you still haven't figured out who you are, losing a parent is going to make it all the more difficult to sort out your own psyche. So I guess if I have one piece of advice for anyone going through this - not to get too preachy - it's that you really have to surround yourself with quality people at a time like this. I know I was lucky enough to have a terribly supportive extended family who took my sister and I under their wing, but I look back and think about how a lot of the bullshit friends I had in high school just sort of fell to the wayside when my mom died. I can't blame them really because what self-absorbed high schooler is ever going to be equipped to deal with a friend's parent's death when you've got things like prom and grad night to think about? That might sound sort of shitty and/or bitter, but I think it's also pretty accurate.

So, digression aside, Sunday I watched a bunch of movies including: The Manchurian Candidate - about a crazy mother -, The First Wives Club - about two crazy mothers and Goldie Hawn mothering a bottle of vodka, and Death Becomes Her - about a couple of dead chicks. Do you see a theme here, because I don't.


brian said...


BG5000 said...

Should've gone to the early show. Biggest problem there was a few hippies in front of us with b.o., but that's easy to avoid.

lkbom said...

Too bad you don't wanna go to anymore concerts since I just bought Ladytron tickets.

Baptizedingin said...

Oh, well I could pony up for that. Plus, Ladytron is no longer "new" and/or "hot" which means annoying people are less likely to show. Whee!