I had to be up at six AM this morning; I haven't been getting to bed at a decent hour lately. I like to stay up all night- that's the best time to read and write...even grocery shop. It's almost like having a world to yourself- a world void of people AND sunlight; fun. Anyways, since I knew I wouldn't be making it to bed early, I decided to go with a friend to see The Faux Paus. I've explained in a previous blog that I'm a total fuckwaste when it comes to writing about music, but I have to say I DID enjoy myself.
The Faux Paus is a three-piece chick band from Toledo, Ohio (P.S. I love female vocals). Two of the members take turns singing, and more often than not, sing in chorus...and sometimes NOT in chorus (you'd have to be there...AMAZING). One of the singers (Amanda) plays piano/guitar/bass and the other one (Hannah) plays........wait for it........piano/guitar/bass. These gals remind me of The Heartless Bastards- beautifully ugly vocals, simple piano, and catchy, trance-like guitar chords...yep, The Heartless Bastards, but with a chick beating the shit outta the drums in the background. They make me warm, make my left foot do the standing-in-place-break-pedal-dance, all while dodging the label: POP. I don't care for the term "indie", but I don't really know shit about music and its music-y lexicon, so I guess I'd have to say they are "indie." AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Anyways, the bar was nowhere near crowded, so I felt engulfed by their pretty noise. Meow.
My cousin Brooklyn went to go see Project 86 that same night. He did a shitty job of reporting back to me about the show, so I can't tell you much about them; I've only heard two things: they are fucking heavy and they are Christian. Maybe Brooklyn was too busy to report because he was busy receiving text messages from my readers (I think he enjoyed the movie quote text the most; thanks Meg). Moving along...Brooklyn had six beers at the show and I feel as though he is mellowing out in his old age, or perhaps Tracy is a positive influence on his behavior. Today, he gave out my number via Facebook and I thought it hilarious; I feel as though no one truly wants privacy anymore, so fuck it to hell. I love you Brooklyn.
Enough about music, let's talk ice cream. I like it; I eat it every chance I get. Fuck. It's good. Enough said.
This just in: my not so good friend yet, Nicole (the promise ring chick) just got an apartment in Chicago. Dear Nicole, I just so happen to like art, I wanna visit you and sleep on your couch. If you ever get a chance to look at a black and white photo of Nicole, I suggest you do so. If you see a color photo of Nicole, good for you. Back to her apartment: I wouldn't mind sleeping in her broom closet if it means a free place to crash- that city is fucking expensive. I guess I just don't understand a cold, windy city where everyone wears black (depressing!) being a sought after place to live, but to each his/her own. A great place to visit though. if you visit in March, you get a chance to see what seems to be an army of black coated clones walking down the street; that's basically performance art in my book. Nicole...lets be friends.
Last up: a new idea for birthdays. I told my family not to get me presents this year. All they give me is money anyways, that doesn't take a lot of thought (and I want people to think!!!!) I informed my family to each write me a letter. In the letter, they were to describe one of their goals and list the steps they will take in order to achieve that goal. To make a long story short, I got money. However, my sister DID write me a poem inside my card which counts as thought! I'm getting somewhere!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment