Monday, July 07, 2008

Sound Of Silver, Talk To Me

Keri bought me a $50 iTunes gift card for my birthday almost two months ago and I've spent about half of it so far. I loved the MGMT cd, then bought some new band, Fleet Foxes which was just so-so (I asked Ker for my money back on that one but it was a no-go) then today I bought the Black Keys album, Attack and Release. This album is great - I may not love every single song but it's close enough. They're from Akron, Ohio where my bro goes to school and I keep meaning to ask him to look them up for me because I could really use a boyfriend right now but manage to forget every time I talk to him, which really is probably for the better. I had been excited this band was gonna be at Lollapalooza even though I'd only heard two of their songs on the radio but now I'm even more pumped. They just sound like a dirty Southern rock band, although I told that to Keri's friend's boyfriend and he totally disagrees with me, but this isn't his blog now is it. He has some of their earlier stuff and I need to listen to that before Lolla so I'm not one of those annoying people calling out for them to play all their lastest shit. I will know their other albums and will therefore be better than 95% of the crowd watching them THAT IS A FACT.

I saw Stevie Wonder at the Taste of Chicago last Saturday and the crowds, my god THE CROWDS. You probably think you've been somewhere extremely crowded, but you have not until you've seen Stevie at the Taste. I pride myself on being a pretty polite, consciencious person (I don't really have much else going for me - although really only to people I don't know. My best friend Meg tells me I'm nicer to people I've just met and will never see again than I am to my friends, so maybe I don't even really have that going for me) but I can only take so much. We were all at the show to see Stevie. At the FREE show, mind you. Some people would just stare at me hard when I tried to get past and not move. Bitch, you're the one standing on the walkway where you are supposed to be WALKING, not STANDING STILL and I have to go pee, so get out of my fucking way. We all started out the night trying not to step on people's blankets, or walking around people when they said they weren't going to move anymore but after a certain point you had no choice. Stevie was awesome, playing all the songs you wanted to hear and more, but after a certain point I just wanted to get out of the fuck out of there. Stevie you're as wonderful as your name says you are but must you bring out all the assholes in Chicago at one time? Let's work on that next time.

So whoever wished me luck on my two job interviews and date, you got half the job done. The date, I thought was good until my friend Diana told me the guy called me a prude after I left. Um, what? I go on one date with you (and not even a real date-date, we just met up for some beers), and you're the one who chose to stay out with your friends when I wanted to go home (at 2:30 am). You didn't even GIVE me a chance to show you if I was a prude or not. Not like I would have slept with you that night but for chrissake. You're the unemployed 28 year old who lives with your grandma WHY IS IT ONLY DEGENERATES THAT ARE ATTRACTED TO ME. Seriously, this shit needs to stop. BUT, on the other hand, I got a new job. I don't start for two more weeks and won't make much more than I make at the UPS Store right now, but after one-three months it should go up. Plus I get benefits which is awesome cause that insurance-runs-out-at-25-years-old deadline was looming ominously. So the pay isn't that great and it's kinda a hike, at 50 minutes to an hour away but me and my new boss hit it off from the moment we met so I really think it's going to work out. It just better because I am slowly losing my will to live at the store and this is my ticket out. So, next time I wish for luck, concentrate on the boy department but more importantly on the hope-he-has-a-job department. Who knew that was so hard to find, and if you did know WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME.

This new job shit is really going to cut into my book reading, a fact I am seriously down about because I am pathetic. I've read some good ones recently too, like The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields (just a really good story about a seemingly normal girl), I, the Divine, a Novel in First Chapters by Ribah Alameddine (my new favorite author), Are You There Vodka? It's Me Chelsea by Chelsea Handler (hysterical), When We Were Orphans by Kazuo Ishigro (Ms. Mac, you'll love it. I did, after I got used to the formal-ness of Christopher) and Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut (god I don't get him but I love him). Since I've been keeping track of the books I've read this year, I feel like I'm in a constant race with myself, and with the library (to return them on time) to read as much as I can as fast as I can (it really annoys me that I feel like I have to beat the clock or something but I can't help it - does any of that make sense.) I'm at 34 so far and'll probably be lucky to break 50 by years end. Wah wah, is this what getting olds all about, getting a real job that interferes with my reading? Cause if so I WANT NONE OF IT but seeing as I can't even find a guy with A job, let alone a GOOD job, looks like I better get used to it.

Alright, I'm done whining. Here's some pictures, just cause I haven't put any up in eons, in no particular order.

My best friend Megan, me, Keri and cousin Hallie in Vegas before mom and dad renewed their vows. My dress made me look pregnant, a fact I discovered after I came home and saw the pictures. C'est la vie.

Me and Pammy in an EXTREME CLOSE UP, still in Vegas.

I want to live in the Bellagio. I was obsessed with these umbrellas they had hanging everywhere.

Me, Lauren and Diana at Blues Fest, supposedly seeing B.B King but the goddamn speakers weren't working by us so it coulda been a skinny white guy up there with a guitar for all I knew.

Keri and I at her boyfriend's house after a Sox game back in April. He, for god knows what reason, likes to cut the sleeves off some of his shirts, so we of course have to wear them when we go over there. Maybe it's for that reason I'm hardly invited anymore, WHO KNOWS. Or is it my wanting, NEEDING to play the drums at 2:00 am, I'll never know.

Saturday at Blues Fest. It rained. But we still had a good time. Pretty self-explanatory.

A group shot with my dad and Keri copping a feel on my mom. He claims he wasn't really, but this picture, the only evidence, states otherwise.

Keri does a much better Elvis impersonation than me. My lips are incapable of the upwards movement needed, it's just embarassing.

It is fucking hot in my room. Just had to tell someone so I picked all of cyberspace, don't you feel lucky!