mystery flowers

i have great friends.

conclusive proof: boys and booze dont mix

last night, i went to a show. i must have taken a wrong turn in albuquerque and gone to a play, cause all i got was drama. admittedly, it was my fault; tipsy girls and the boys they want but cant have are never a good combination. it was the sort of night you knew was going to end badly, though even cynical me could have never predicted how badly it would end.

things with dewey decimal have never run smoothly. starting in november it went from dinners and movies and phone calls and emails to crickets. there was never a fight or a specific incident i can point to, but suddenly i was lucky if he returned a phone call and we averaged seeing each other more than once every six weeks. last night, i saw him on the street outside black cat. his band was playing and he asked if i was coming inside. mistake number one.

we talked and we talk-talked and then we left to talk some more at his house. the night ended in tears (mine) and with one of us making a spectacle out of themself (i'll let you guess which one...). sadly, this was not the ladylike type of crying which would qualify as delicate or dainty. nope. this was hysterical, sobbing, body-shaking, convulsive crying. this was a year of pent up anger, sadness, frustration and misguided hope coming out all at once with an unstoppable force.

after walking me out of his room, he turned and walked back into his apartment. its 2 am, and dewey has many times told me his neighborhood is marginal and cabs are scarce. does he offer to walk me through columbia heights to the metro, or help me flag a cab? no. he left me crying on his front stoop and went back to bed. my cabbie pitied me enough to offer me a cigarette and offer to come upstairs with me, because he "could make me feel better."

once home, i proceeded to call several people who had been involved in various parts of the night. apparently i left a message for a.h. where i was so distraught it lead her to believe i was the victim of or witness to a violent crime.

that said, heartbreak doesnt feel like i remember it. in place of the sharp pains of insecurity and unrequited adoration that plagued the last 9 months, im left feeling dull and empty.

thankfully, i have great friends. friends who call me worried at 5 a.m. telling me to call them at any hour. friends who bring me mcdonalds picnics complete with 4 different sundaes so i dont have to choose between caramel or chocolate. friends who bring me books since i cant go back to the library. friends who call to share exciting news about having something published or call to invite me to celebrate their "weekend of love" commemorating their first anniversary as a married couple, who switch immediately into support mode as soon as they hear my voice.

things that feel like the end of the world but in fact are not

10) lemon juice in paper cuts
9) having to buy books because you cant go to the library ever again
8) running out of diet coke after cvs has closed
7) eight non-stop hours of muzak
6) hitting "reply all" on an email where you call your client a douche
5) having your heart broken by someone you love who doesnt love you
4) crying in front of someone you love who doesnt love you
3) crying in front of the roommates of someone you love who doesnt love you
2) crying on the street corner in front of the neighbors of someone you love who doesnt love you
1) non-fatal cardiac arrest

nothing like cornering the market on perverts

10 most recent google searches:

10) do cats have knees
9) phrase "wound up tighter than a virgin"
8) menstral (sic) pictures [editors note: why can people searching my blog not spell the word menstrual]
7) pantyhose
6) condom knocked up
5) father daughter nasty
4) "cute-girl" rape, sweatpants, t-shirt
3) printed adult diaper
2) pelvic exam fetish
1) van myspace comments with vans in them

10 most recent blogsearches:

10) tits
9) tits
8) tits
7) tits
6) tits
5) pantyhose
4) scat
3) scat
2) best breakfast in jerusalem
1) homoerotic art

to whom do i expense my triple, dry, half-caf, extra hot, sugar free vanilla soy latte?

there was a water main break at headquarters overnight causing our building to close and giving everyone an unexpected three day weekend.

except us.

our office is open.

we just dont have water or a functioning bathroom, which means more bathroom trips to coffee shops, where of course you have to be a customer to get a key to use the bathroom, which means more coffee, which leads to more trips to the bathroom creating both an expensive and vicious circle.

tits and shows

email from art the loser:

"while reading DCist's 'overheard'...

outside the 9:30 club after a !!! show during which about 60 fans took the stage with the band during the last song:

young woman: 'i have two rules...i don't show my tits in public and i don't get on stage.'

i was all like, OMG, that's van nasty! but then i thought, no, i bet she shows her tits."

xoxo
art

dont make me take my free concert going business elsewhere

dear fort reno:

please post your schedule already so i can stop "checking back" four times a day, every day.

xoxo
v/n

holy fuck !!!

ive seen !!! (chk chk chk) twice before, and theyve been both the best, and the worst, concert ive seen. the first time i saw them a few years ago, i literally stumbled onto the show, and it was one of the most fun and intense concerts ive been to in dc. gasp! people were actually dancing! after the show i became mildly obsessed; in fact their song "pardon my freedom" became my theme song during the 2004 elections when i was volunteering in florida. i would play it (specifically the line "you can tell the president to fucking suck my dick") every morning to psyche myself up to knock on strangers doors all day praying they didnt open the door holding a gun.

so, you can imagine how excited i was last year when they played the black cat on my birthday. i drug friends who have never been to u street before, let alone the black cat (or, you know, ever heard of !!!), out to the show which they ruined by sucking. after waiting for them for hours, they finally took stage for three songs. awesome.

understandably, i was hesitant to go to the show last night, but decided to give them another chance (mainly because i had nothing better to do on a monday night). once again, they were on their "a" game and gave a great show. i dont normally need to be close to the stage to enjoy a show, but we pushed ourselves up to front row center which was awesome because it gave me somewhere to stash the big heavy work bag i was dragging around with me. we were so close that not only was my face basically in the lead singers crotch the whole time, but we got tangled up in the mic cord more than once; i would say we were close enough to smell the band, but, trust me, that isnt saying much. there were scalpers outside complaining about the smell of dirty hippies wafting out from inside.

the best thing about !!! is the lead singer. not only did he once stop a show i was at to yell to the crowd "scream if you love cocaine!" but he prances and dances like a gayer version of mick jagger. i heart him beyond what i can tell you. i want to fold him up in my purse and bring him around with me everywhere i go. although there are two people who trade off vocals; one is energy personified, and the other is this intense, zombie-esque person who im sure survives on a meal of brains and virgin's blood.

i mention the aside about my bag because, once up front, we stashed our bags under the stage and proceeded to defend our territory like mama bears with a den full of cubs. normally, im not so territorial (okay, fine, i am), but this morning i had a meeting with someone about being approved for a mortgage (eek!) and, since the meeting was at 830 this morning, and im not a morning person, i had brought all my paperwork with me, in my bag, to the concert. well, that and because im stupid. so basically, my entire financial history (credit card statement, student loans, savings and checking accounts) were all in that bag. its the sort of thing that if it had been stolen, it would have kind of sucked. there was one drunk, drugged out girl who tried to push her way to the stage, unfortunately for her, she underestimated both our wingspan and our willingness to use our elbows as weapons. and while it was cute when she used her headbanger hair toss to compete for space, it was also ineffective seeing as her ear length hair was no match for the four foot circumference of my porno head thrash hair toss. nice effort though and good luck next time.

and, thank you !!! for not playing an encore.

happy mothers day

its nice to see that someone still buys american.

cnn for president in 2008!

on may 11, for 12 seconds, america was a better place than its been in (at least) six years.

call me a prude, but i just dont find rape and nazi humor funny anymore

it was a week ago today that i went to rnr hotel for the relaunch of a local website (because apparently dc is so strapped for glamour that "re-launching" a website constitutes a party-worthy event). the show featured 10 local bands performing all cover songs. i went with the smurfettes and told myself i was going despite the fact that dewey decimal would be there. of course i was lying seeing as ive now held on to the projected relationship three times longer than there was anything even resembling a real one (note: im not a very good liar and managed to only convince myself).

the show was loud; much louder than i would have thought (i dont know why in my mind i equated "cover songs" with soft, yanniesque music but i did, and therefore failed [again!] to bring earplugs). we pushed our way up to the front but the sound system wasnt great and it was still hard to hear some of the vocals. each band did three songs, and during one of the requisite "chat with the audience pauses" my friend and i hear the singer of a band say "painted proud rapist on our van... had to cover the swastika that was there... another reason to hate us." we looked at each other and thought audibly "did he really just say that?" we decided to take it as a sign to go upstairs and investigate the rest of the party.

if i may interupt my own story, the comment was obviously meant as a joke. i didnt think he, or anyone else on stage, meant it. i had no intentions of burning my copy of their c.d.s or going to their myspace and leaving a bile filled comment. i thought it was in bad taste, particularly in a crowd where half your audience is female, but our communal reaction was more "meh" than rage. ironically, the comment followed a different band's cover of sabotage; the beastie boys forever endeared themselves to me during the 1999 mtv music awards when they made an impassioned plea to other artists that they have a responsibility to protect female concert goers from rape and sexual assault. the comment was made in reference to woodstock '99 where several women reported being pulled into mosh pits and raped repeatedly.

on my way home in a cab with 8 perfect strangers, people were discussing the swastika comment and i mentioned that i left right after it. a girl next to me rather dramatically rolled her eyes and told me i was too politically correct and that they were being irreverent (which makes me think one of us misunderstands the meaning of that word). according to her, i didnt hear the comment correctly, and the guy actually said someone in their neighborhood had painted proud rapist on their van, which he followed up with the lame joke about covering the swastika (which actually makes much more sense). i found the whole exchange more unnerving that the original comment that sparked it. self-satisfied-holier-than-thou hipster girl patronizes car full of women by telling them that they cant be offended by a casual, off-hand joke about rape and nazis. i could have understood her response if we were talking about boycotts or intervention from the anti-defamation league or storming their next show with signs from the national organization for women while chanting "this is what a feminist look like," but literally all that was said was, "yea. that was weird." assuming this girl wasnt their sister, girlfriend, cousin, aunt or mother, i find it odd to go out of your way to (vehemently) defend that comment.

there were 9 women in our giant, 15 person van/cab . currently in america - where every 2.5 minutes someone is sexually assaulted - one in six women has been the victim of sexual assault, meaning 1.5 people in that car represent victims of rape, attempted rape or other sexual violence.

youre right. i totally see the humor in that comment now.

happy freakin' mothers day

the non-status of comprehensive sex education in america allows people say idiotic things like "arent you lucky you dont have kids?" no. im not. my not having children is only 2% luck, and 98% birth control and keeping my legs crossed. and if you dont know that, then that explains why you have three children who you dont appear to like.

boys against girls

it seems that a few boys from the past have unionized, and on tuesday executed a coordinated attack of douchery and idiocity (yea, i made up a word. what?). it was unfortunate for many reasons not the least of which was a significant depletion of the available "men on reserve" stockpile. its the mormon in me; we like to stockpile a years supply. and lets face it, when the world ends and we're forced to live off of the canned peaches and homemade pickles, we're gonna also need some recreational activities to keep from going insane.

velveeta has in his head that i am some sort of vagina delivery service that makes house calls 24 hours a day. or more appropriately, who gets him off mentally so his girlfriend can get him off physically. i cannot stress strongly enough how very, very (very very very) wrong this assumption is. velveeta and i havent seen each other since october, and it was perhaps the first completely amicable and mutual faze-out, break-up in history. he started getting serious with someone just as things between dewey decimal and i were getting good which allowed for us both to quietly walk away with no awkward scene or conversation. i can safely say the relationship died a completely pain free and natural death. until tuesday that is, when he fell under the impression it could be revived as some sort of online flirtation/possible booty call. he resurrected it only so it could die a painful, sloppy death guaranteed to generate absolutely no goodwill whatsoever. how do you end something with a guy so submissive that you cant express to him what a selfish assface he is, without him getting aroused? it isnt easy folks. eventually diplomacy failed me entirely and i was forced to put the relationship out of its misery after a long and intense battle of wills (or rather my will v. his persistence). ultimately his passport to van nasty was revoked and his name added to the list of enemy combatants.

you would think that was the end, but due to fat fingers and a small keyboard, it wasnt. i sent my friend a message saying the cheeseman and i had had a fight and officially declared it asshole day. unfortunately, she lives next to him in my phone and i sent the message to him. thats right. i sent him a text message calling him velveeta. i tried to explain it away but, you know what, fuck it, maybe now he'll get the message.

from what i can tell, dewey decimal abstained from joining the union. he's never struck me as a "joiner" though my guess is he just didnt want to pay the dues. although who knows. maybe there is another, future attack planned and they're just trying to keep me on my toes.

that said, things are looking much better lately. my three year old niece has apparently named her in utero brother-to-be "cocky;" "fairytopia" if its a girl (naturally). not to mention diet coke plus was on sale at cvs for $.77 - is it my birthday and i forgot? or van nasty appreciation day? i dont know but its a sad state of affairs when an entire person can be replaced by the thirst quenching refreshment of a zero-calorie, vitamin fortified 20 oz bottle of caramel colored goodness.

p.s. sorry if that whole knocked up thing was a secret sis. but lets face, people are gonna start noticing eventually.

today has officially been asshole day

and its going to take a whole lot more than this to take the taste out of my mouth.

greatest cover art ever

coco rosie

everyone i know is creaming themselves over this show tomorrow night at the rock n roll hotel. if they are half as good as their art work, it will be awesome indeed.

foiled again

dear georgie:

once again, you stood me up this weekend; i am actually starting to question your commitment to this relationship. i was willing to excuse the time you cancelled our picnic plans due to the pouring rain, after all, the rain is horrible on a girls hair (not to mention a bands equipment). and, missing you on thursday night: totally my fault. i had to reschedule dinner plans, trust me, baby, i would have rather been with you. it was a family thing, you understand. or at least, i thought you did. but then, saturday night - which i really thought we had both been looking forward to for a long time - the final consummation of our longtime courtship, and you pulled out.

sigh.

im beginning to think this is one sided infatuation. the other bands were good, but they werent you, georgie james.

xoxo
v/n

apparently i can get more bitter

dear cohabiting-but-non-rent-paying resident:

was i rude just now?

im sorry, its just that i didnt realize you were serious when you asked me to stop cleaning because the "fumes" from my windex were too noxious for your delicate sense of smell. i bet my typing is also disruptive to you too. im so sorry i cant provide a more serene environment for you to enjoy while you sit at our computers for hours on end, whistling, which by the way is my number one pet peeve. why dont you just stand over me crunching ice in my ear while whispering the most cringe inducing words in the english language: supper, anyways and panties.

allow me to again say how sorry i am that my doing my job gets in the way of your reading your emails and searching the no-strings-attached postings on craigslist. is my breathing bothering you? maybe my very existence (seeing as only low-class people do jobs involving polyester suits and cleaning products)? why dont i just sit here and hold my breath until you leave? or would that bother you too, seeing as your probably too delicate to have to see my dead body behind the desk.

xoxo
v/n

there are no unwanted babies, only unwilling pandas

Panda Demands Abortion

as seen in my inbox

"may the fourth be with you."

*snort*

my life: now totally and utterly complete

someone has found my blog by searching the phrase "drinking menstral [sic] blood pictures." (b.t.y., is "phrase" the right description? lord knows its not an expression, or maybe it is, just not in the u.s. maybe somewhere... probably transylvania?).

naturally, i also had to search this term thinking "man! someone must have plowed through a lot of pages to find my blog with that search!" wrong. i was the sixth. this search also led me to "fecalface.com."

i can officially retire now. nothing will ever top this moment. okay, maybe if it had been minstrel blood, now THATS something i can get behind; damned medieval hippies.

wow. that looks, ... well, ... it looks...

god damned painful.

probably not interesting to anyone but me but im sharing anyway

last night at the sunset rubdown show, i saw someone i know from work. they obviously thought i looked familiar but didnt recognize me without my ill-fitting polyester uniform; i waved and smiling, acknowledging that we do, indeed, know each other. however, someone else thought i was waving at him and proceeded to engage me in a very bizarre conversation. turns out, he grew up in the town near me, and showed me what turned out to be the most awesome tattoo i have ever seen. he used to work where my mom has worked for over 10 years, and apparently loved it so much, he had the logo tattooed on his arm. my mother doesnt work for a large chain or a place with a dirty and interesting name; no, my mom does leasing for a mall, and he had the mall's logo tattooed on his arm. simply. awesome.

more things that annoy me about you (at a concert)

so the past couple weeks have been rather show heavy: wolfmother, dismemberment plan, peter bjorn and john, sunset rubdown, hopefully konono no.1 friday, and the byt cover band salute on saturday. either i am becoming more curmudgeonly, or, people are increasingly annoying. i give a pass to the young who have not been initiated into the show etiquette but you hipsters should know better; for fuck sake youre in your thirties!

9) people who talk during the entire show, but who insist on standing next to the stage. if you dont know or care about the band, are here to see and be seen only, or just want the music to be ambient to your conversation, thats fine. stay your ass in the back, where you can loudly and freely talk without disrupting everyone else who is, and i know that this is a crazy concept, at the show for the music! some of us like seeing live music, and a major part of that is being able to both see and hear the musicians, not your conversation about which of you can "dork out more," which, by the way, is an argument i can settle by saying youre both losers.

10) encores. there was a day when the encore had meaning; when a band was so amazing that people refused to leave until they heard one last song. now, the encore is a scheduled part of the set list for every show (no matter how shite the band), where after three minutes of standing and clapping, they come back to the stage to play another twenty minutes. you arent fooling anyone by not playing your only radio hit during your set; we all know youre coming back. just play the extra five songs during your set and let the audience decide if we want more or not.

just because i own all six seasons on dvd doesnt mean anything

what does it say about me that i got multiple email and text messages about the fact that the gilmore girls gave shout outs to both the 930 club and the black cat last night? that my friends know me well, i guess?

annuals of douchery

apparently, d.c., youve read the blog and you want to turn this concert going bitchery into a series. either that or im a cat and a bathrobe away from becoming the old lady on the porch who chases kids off her lawn talking about how in my day, kids had some respect for their elders.

now dont get me wrong, im all for people having a good time. much like im completely flexible - so long as everything is exactly how i want it - im completely in favor of people enjoying themselves (so long as they do it in the way i want them to and it doesnt in any way annoy or inconvenience me).

ive already enumerated my top two annoyances (people who wait till the last minute, then push through the crowd and stand directly in front of you obscuring your view and people with cameras held high in the air directly in front of you obscuring your view) so let's start with number three:

3. people who loudly and inappropriately sing; this is not a sing along and no one here paid to listen to you.

4. people. who. clap. but. cannot. find. a. beat. see above.

5. people who dance but have no appreciation of the room their body occupies in space. this is not a thrash jazz class and your right to express the music through you body ends when your elbow connects with my gin and tonic.

6. people who put their beer bottles on the floor instead of in the garbage ensuring that it will be knocked over spilling backwash beer and glass all over your feet.

7. the people outside the club distributing flyers who act as though they are doing you a favor by hoisting their shit on you that you a) dont want, b) will never look at, c) never listen to, d) and only turn around and throw away. and to those who cannot even bother to seem friendly or enthused: you are promoting yourself. if you find yourself that boring, i can only imagine how much i'll hate you. and, if youre going to be selective in your distribution process, maybe standing outside the 930 club at a sold out show, isnt for you; if you want your party to be exclusive then why are you advertising? either you want youre event to sell out, or you don't. if you do then this is no longer a party for just you and your friends; you're going to have to let other people play too, even the not so cool ones.

8. the 6'5 guy and his girlfriend who pushed their way into a space where there was no room for them, and proceeded to stand directly in front of my friends and i (average height, 5'5). you clearly had no idea who the band was, yet, needed to be in the front row and when i said something to you (i dont remember what i said, but im sure it was nothing short of sweetness and light), you're response was "shove it up your ass." check back tomorrow and this spot will simply be labeled "douche" with your picture accompanying it. oh yea, d.c., its on.