Jealous in blogworld
I was going to write some cheap descriptions of the Astros game and the Pixies concert (to entertain and inform my friends in other lands), but I got completely sidetracked reading Mimi Smartypants blog and spent the morning cracking up in my coffee. And soon, Zoey will wake up and render me unable to write. Oh well.
Of course, I do seem to have a little time. It's currently 8:30 am and really, I should wake her up as her bio clock is completely untenable right now. For some reason (I think it's because I let my parents babysit during the Pixies concert and they just let her play all night), she's not going to sleep until midnight, which takes all the fun out of my nocturnal life. Yes, I know, my nocturnal life only consists of surfing the internet (no porn, only news...which can be as addicting as porn and nowhere near as satisfying) or watching TV, but it's my alone time. (The moms understand.) If Zoey's up till midnight, then I have to stay up till 2 to get some alone time, but when I stay up until 2, I want to sleep in until 9, which means Zoey sleeps in late, which ends up keeping her up late at night. And thus the cycle keeps going in a circle. So I really should wake her up soon.
Whatever.
God damn Dan Micelli. Who put him in to pitch?
My life is all baseball right now. Thank god, as there's nothing else for me to do (though I think I'll try and go see the latest Bobbindoctrin puppet show this weekend. Joel wrote it, and I always enjoy his quirky, dark, decrepit and insane tales). I suppose I can't see the puppet show if the Astros make the world series. Hmmm. Hmmmm.
One of the challenges of having a child is learning to schedule your life. You just can't be as spontaneous as you once were, because certain things require advance notice, like babysitters. Or long car trips, or any trips that take place during lunch or dinner. I am not a natural scheduler; I keep itineraries loosely in my head like chump change ("I'd like to go do this, and this, and...there was something else I needed to do today...what was it???"), so this baby thing is very educational in this way (among many others, of course). Basically, I want to see the puppet show, so I better get on the ball and figure out if I can make it happen.
Seeing the Pixies live in concert (isn't that an oxymoron?) was fun, if deafaning. Trey and I had general admission tickets and got there early enough to make our way to about 50 feet in front of the stage. Which meant we started standing there during the Killers set, which totally SUCKED! They have an indie-rock anthem, the chorus of which goes something like "It's indie rock and roll to me" over and over. And their "hit" song, which sounds a lot like Real Life's "Send me an Angel." I looked around and there were plenty of people with that sort of unconscious head bop going on, but no real dancers. Good, I thought, don't let them think they're cool. But of course, they were cool. They had the cool look, the cool hair, and the cool faux new-waveish 80s pop sound. Like I said, they SUCKED!
The Pixies were workman-like, fast and furiously loud. They spoke very little, which was fine with me, and plowed through about 15-17 songs (I didn't count). I had forgotten how good their punk songs were, how noisy and on-the-brink-of-falling-apart insane. Joey Santiago's guitar made me with I used more feedback when I was playing, because it was such beautiful abstract noise. Trey and I both enjoyed the concert, but it wasn't earth-shatteringly good, perhaps because we'd both seen them before in the early 90s, when we were good and drunk and young, him in Orlando, me at the Abyss in Houston. Sunday night, we were sober, as we were only willing to spend the money on one $6.50 beer apiece. Also, we rarely drink. These days, anyway.
The crowd was pretty wooden. There were a few attempts at moshing and crowd-surfing, but these were few and far between. Thank god, that's so early 90s. Like the Pixies. A group of Spaniards started the show next to us, and proceeded to pogo. Why do Europeans always pogo? (Maybe it's the lack of space?) Fortunately, they pogoed further toward the stage so Trey didn't have to shoot them any more dirty looks. Lots of people brought their digital cameras and camera phones, holding them up over their heads so everyone behind them can see what kind of dark, multi-colored pictures they got. I wanted to bring mine, so I could post a pic on this blog, but Trey wouldn't let me.
After the show, I was deaf. Seriously. I spotted my friend Joe and spoke with him and Jason for awhile, but could barely hear him. Apparently, he's still working at the same place and still with the same girl. But I'm not 100 percent sure. I'm really surprised we didn't run into more people that we knew--the crowd wasn't that big, and I'm sure plenty of people were there. Oh well. So much for socializing. That night, I fell asleep with the sounds of electronic crickets singing in my head.
Today's good Web site is www.bushrelativesforkerry.com.
Of course, I do seem to have a little time. It's currently 8:30 am and really, I should wake her up as her bio clock is completely untenable right now. For some reason (I think it's because I let my parents babysit during the Pixies concert and they just let her play all night), she's not going to sleep until midnight, which takes all the fun out of my nocturnal life. Yes, I know, my nocturnal life only consists of surfing the internet (no porn, only news...which can be as addicting as porn and nowhere near as satisfying) or watching TV, but it's my alone time. (The moms understand.) If Zoey's up till midnight, then I have to stay up till 2 to get some alone time, but when I stay up until 2, I want to sleep in until 9, which means Zoey sleeps in late, which ends up keeping her up late at night. And thus the cycle keeps going in a circle. So I really should wake her up soon.
Whatever.
God damn Dan Micelli. Who put him in to pitch?
My life is all baseball right now. Thank god, as there's nothing else for me to do (though I think I'll try and go see the latest Bobbindoctrin puppet show this weekend. Joel wrote it, and I always enjoy his quirky, dark, decrepit and insane tales). I suppose I can't see the puppet show if the Astros make the world series. Hmmm. Hmmmm.
One of the challenges of having a child is learning to schedule your life. You just can't be as spontaneous as you once were, because certain things require advance notice, like babysitters. Or long car trips, or any trips that take place during lunch or dinner. I am not a natural scheduler; I keep itineraries loosely in my head like chump change ("I'd like to go do this, and this, and...there was something else I needed to do today...what was it???"), so this baby thing is very educational in this way (among many others, of course). Basically, I want to see the puppet show, so I better get on the ball and figure out if I can make it happen.
Seeing the Pixies live in concert (isn't that an oxymoron?) was fun, if deafaning. Trey and I had general admission tickets and got there early enough to make our way to about 50 feet in front of the stage. Which meant we started standing there during the Killers set, which totally SUCKED! They have an indie-rock anthem, the chorus of which goes something like "It's indie rock and roll to me" over and over. And their "hit" song, which sounds a lot like Real Life's "Send me an Angel." I looked around and there were plenty of people with that sort of unconscious head bop going on, but no real dancers. Good, I thought, don't let them think they're cool. But of course, they were cool. They had the cool look, the cool hair, and the cool faux new-waveish 80s pop sound. Like I said, they SUCKED!
The Pixies were workman-like, fast and furiously loud. They spoke very little, which was fine with me, and plowed through about 15-17 songs (I didn't count). I had forgotten how good their punk songs were, how noisy and on-the-brink-of-falling-apart insane. Joey Santiago's guitar made me with I used more feedback when I was playing, because it was such beautiful abstract noise. Trey and I both enjoyed the concert, but it wasn't earth-shatteringly good, perhaps because we'd both seen them before in the early 90s, when we were good and drunk and young, him in Orlando, me at the Abyss in Houston. Sunday night, we were sober, as we were only willing to spend the money on one $6.50 beer apiece. Also, we rarely drink. These days, anyway.
The crowd was pretty wooden. There were a few attempts at moshing and crowd-surfing, but these were few and far between. Thank god, that's so early 90s. Like the Pixies. A group of Spaniards started the show next to us, and proceeded to pogo. Why do Europeans always pogo? (Maybe it's the lack of space?) Fortunately, they pogoed further toward the stage so Trey didn't have to shoot them any more dirty looks. Lots of people brought their digital cameras and camera phones, holding them up over their heads so everyone behind them can see what kind of dark, multi-colored pictures they got. I wanted to bring mine, so I could post a pic on this blog, but Trey wouldn't let me.
After the show, I was deaf. Seriously. I spotted my friend Joe and spoke with him and Jason for awhile, but could barely hear him. Apparently, he's still working at the same place and still with the same girl. But I'm not 100 percent sure. I'm really surprised we didn't run into more people that we knew--the crowd wasn't that big, and I'm sure plenty of people were there. Oh well. So much for socializing. That night, I fell asleep with the sounds of electronic crickets singing in my head.
Today's good Web site is www.bushrelativesforkerry.com.
1 Comments:
I think Johnathan and Dia were there making at least one other couple who had to do some advance scheduling to make it happen.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home