stuff
saw george strait on friday night. it was actually a really good show. the man doesn't do anything but stand there and sing, but man, does he ever stand there and sing! he played a couple of songs that i hadn't heard and one was something about 'if it weren't for texas...yadda yadda something'. i thought it was great. deuce & i were just singing along and enjoying ourselves and each time i'd look over at ma, it was difficult to tell if she was enjoying it or not. she's such a bump on a log sometimes (see: all the time). i guess i got my partying ways from somewhere else--possibly the milkman.
spent the weekend with patrick exploring 2 flea markets in town. the 1st one we tried on saturday actually scared the bejeebus out of both of us. i felt like running out of there. we should have known to just turn around and leave when patrick felt the need to put his wallet in his front pocket. it was just plain damn scary. i don't want to talk about it anymore because it's just weirding me out. on sunday we tried another flea market. i know, we're just gluttons for punishment, right? it turned out to be a little better. but not by much. at least we didn't feel the need to run for our lives. we didn't find anything, but if you're looking for a $12.95 car battery, fake ostrich skin boots, or bras 3 for 9.99 this is your kind of place. i'd still like to find a real flea market that isn't just running rampant with knock-off this or knock-off that. a place where people just put their treasures (aka junk) on the table and you just go booth to booth sifting through the nothingness to find that one thing you never thought you'd ever think you'd need. that's my kind of flea market. it's like a yard sale on steroids. that's what i'm looking for and it's gotta exist somewhere.
i've found that i really like the band interpol. i should have taken deuce up on the offer to see their show last sunday for my birthday present. at that time i thought that all of their music was a little sad and depressing, but their new cd kicks ass. i'm always a day late on everything.
i'll end with a little something from interpol: you make me want to pick up my guitar and celebrate the myriad ways that i love you. i always wanted to be a muse.
you know when you have so much crap going on at once in your itty bitty brain that it makes it difficult to do the easiest things? that's me right now. except it's one million times worse. maybe i am manic depressive like ma says.
spent the weekend with patrick exploring 2 flea markets in town. the 1st one we tried on saturday actually scared the bejeebus out of both of us. i felt like running out of there. we should have known to just turn around and leave when patrick felt the need to put his wallet in his front pocket. it was just plain damn scary. i don't want to talk about it anymore because it's just weirding me out. on sunday we tried another flea market. i know, we're just gluttons for punishment, right? it turned out to be a little better. but not by much. at least we didn't feel the need to run for our lives. we didn't find anything, but if you're looking for a $12.95 car battery, fake ostrich skin boots, or bras 3 for 9.99 this is your kind of place. i'd still like to find a real flea market that isn't just running rampant with knock-off this or knock-off that. a place where people just put their treasures (aka junk) on the table and you just go booth to booth sifting through the nothingness to find that one thing you never thought you'd ever think you'd need. that's my kind of flea market. it's like a yard sale on steroids. that's what i'm looking for and it's gotta exist somewhere.
i've found that i really like the band interpol. i should have taken deuce up on the offer to see their show last sunday for my birthday present. at that time i thought that all of their music was a little sad and depressing, but their new cd kicks ass. i'm always a day late on everything.
i'll end with a little something from interpol: you make me want to pick up my guitar and celebrate the myriad ways that i love you. i always wanted to be a muse.
you know when you have so much crap going on at once in your itty bitty brain that it makes it difficult to do the easiest things? that's me right now. except it's one million times worse. maybe i am manic depressive like ma says.