I'm gonna pack up your eyes with sand...
Why is dating so horribly excruciating? Am I deficient in some way? Was I not properly socialized as a child? Because I would seriously rather stab myself in the eyes than endure another crappy date. M. was in town from Seattle for the weekend, and I was telling him about the last date I went on. He thought about it for awhile, and I thought about it for awhile, and I came to a very significant realization: What I want is to either be wholeheartedly involved in a relationship, or be totally alone. I simply can't hack it any other way. I have no patience for going on date after date with idiot after idiot. It's not like I don't like to go out and do stuff, but I have my friends for that. I suppose that's why it was so amazing with the boy. Almost as soon as we met, really, we were together. I thought I would hate having that sort of relationship, but instead I found out that it really suits me. And I'm not sure what to think now, after realizing this.
Anyway, M. came back to L.A. to visit his brother and his brand-new nephew. He was able to come over for a few hours and we talked the entire time. He's doing really well and getting his new band together. He gave me some of their stuff to listen to, and they're actually pretty good. And he wouldn't tell me how he got it, but he had a promo copy of Open Season with him. It took all my willpower to forbid him to play it in my presence. Instead, we reminisced about the first time we saw BSP, at Spaceland. Having had their album for months, and having read about the foliage and the insane live show, we thought we knew what to expect. But I still marvel at the sight of Eamon, with his big, white Russian hat and gigantic bass drum, jumping off the stage, marching through the audience, into the men's room and back, banging on his drum all the while. And Yan stage-diving and doing somersaults and handstands, and throwing bits of foliage at people in the audience. And Noble playing the guitar with his teeth. And Hamilton gracefully jumping on top of his brother's shoulders while playing bass, and simultaneously Eamon climbed up on Noble's shoulders while playing Noble's guitar. And Woody dependably keeping up a steady rhythm. And Yan's final handstand and somersault offstage. That was fifteen months ago. I have no pictures of that show, and yet it remains the most memorable in my mind.
I really love the new Fiery Furnaces e.p. It's utterly shiny and poppy and fun. There are, of course, lots and lots of synths, and a copious amount of alliteration, which I find incredibly pleasing. It really captures their live show, particularly "Tropical Ice-Land." It's the single version, and it's much poppier and faster than the album version. That's pretty much how it sounds when they play it live. "Evergreen" has been my favorite Fiery Furnaces song since last year, but I also immensely enjoy "Here Comes the Summer" and "Sweet Spots" as well.
I haven't had time to read a book for the past three weeks and it's driving me mad. I'm so accustomed to reading an entire book at least every two weeks, but I either haven't had the time, or have been too tired, or lacked the concentration to sit down and read for any substantial length of time. It's odd; when I'm not able to read, I don't feel like myself.
Anyway, M. came back to L.A. to visit his brother and his brand-new nephew. He was able to come over for a few hours and we talked the entire time. He's doing really well and getting his new band together. He gave me some of their stuff to listen to, and they're actually pretty good. And he wouldn't tell me how he got it, but he had a promo copy of Open Season with him. It took all my willpower to forbid him to play it in my presence. Instead, we reminisced about the first time we saw BSP, at Spaceland. Having had their album for months, and having read about the foliage and the insane live show, we thought we knew what to expect. But I still marvel at the sight of Eamon, with his big, white Russian hat and gigantic bass drum, jumping off the stage, marching through the audience, into the men's room and back, banging on his drum all the while. And Yan stage-diving and doing somersaults and handstands, and throwing bits of foliage at people in the audience. And Noble playing the guitar with his teeth. And Hamilton gracefully jumping on top of his brother's shoulders while playing bass, and simultaneously Eamon climbed up on Noble's shoulders while playing Noble's guitar. And Woody dependably keeping up a steady rhythm. And Yan's final handstand and somersault offstage. That was fifteen months ago. I have no pictures of that show, and yet it remains the most memorable in my mind.
I really love the new Fiery Furnaces e.p. It's utterly shiny and poppy and fun. There are, of course, lots and lots of synths, and a copious amount of alliteration, which I find incredibly pleasing. It really captures their live show, particularly "Tropical Ice-Land." It's the single version, and it's much poppier and faster than the album version. That's pretty much how it sounds when they play it live. "Evergreen" has been my favorite Fiery Furnaces song since last year, but I also immensely enjoy "Here Comes the Summer" and "Sweet Spots" as well.
I haven't had time to read a book for the past three weeks and it's driving me mad. I'm so accustomed to reading an entire book at least every two weeks, but I either haven't had the time, or have been too tired, or lacked the concentration to sit down and read for any substantial length of time. It's odd; when I'm not able to read, I don't feel like myself.