Tommy's on his way down from NorCal (he's driving with no A/C in this weather. . .craziness) and tonight we're going to see Dashboard!! I'm soooo excited. It's only fitting that I see this show with Tommy, since he's the one who got me interested in Dashboard in the first place, and we saw them together a few years ago in San Jose. . .it was awesome, and we had to hold on to one another to keep from getting crushed in the pit when the opening act, Thrice (hate 'em) was playing. Anyway, I thought I'd sport the polkadots for the occasion. (Maybe my seizure-inducing shirt will also make me more noticeable to lead singer Chris Carrabba, who is male perfection incarnate. . .from his brooding emo eyes to his hot sleeve tattoos.) Oh well, a girl can dream.
I think I'm going to try and smuggle my camera in my cleavage again so I can get some pictures of the show. And of me and Tommy acting silly. :)
Yes, I am an atheist. But if I were to believe in a supreme being, it would be Trent Reznor. Last night I went to the NIN show, and unbeknownst to me, it was the last show of their With Teeth tour, which was very cool. The opening act was Bauhaus, which I actually kind of enjoyed, although there were several grumbling people around me who didn't share my feelings. . .the lead singer is hilarious; he is SO trying to be David Bowie. I love it. But the music was quite Goth-y, and I enjoyed it. More than anything, though, I enjoyed this lad sitting in front of me who was the COOLEST goth EVER. He had hair like Edward Scissorhands and Robert Smith combined (imagine THAT!) and he was super skinny. . .with his sleeveless Bauhaus shirt on and lots of black eyeliner and gray lipstick. This kid was awesome. Apparently he just came for Bauhaus, cause he didn't stay for NIN. . .I was so bummed, cause he was so fun to watch, doing his spaz dancing. He's my new hero.
Then after what seemed like a crazy long wait, the real show started. . . I swear, Trent Reznor is a fucking genius. Oh, and he's ridiculously, illegally sexy. I was trying to find a setlist for last night's show online, but no one seems to have one. . .rest assured, it was a great show. To answer your question, Tommy, they did play quite a bit of older stuff. . .I think only a few songs were covered from the new album (of course, "Only" and "The Hand That Feeds," both excellent live.) Quite frankly, I'd be happy if he just played the entire "Pretty Hate Machine" album cover to cover, but that's just me. It's always delicious to hear "Closer" and "Hurt." ("Hurt," by the way, is phenomenal live. The audience kind of falls to a hush. It's such a beautiful song, and he sings it with such intensity. Shivers down the spine, I tell you.) Towards the end of "Hurt," the dude from Bauhaus came on stage for no reason and then decided he wanted to perform with NIN, so he did. Trent mostly played guitar during that set. Oh, and coolest thing EVER--after two songs, Trent threw his fucking GUITAR into the audience. Awesome. I would probably pee my pants if I caught a Trent Reznor towel, let alone a guitar for fuck's sake. Trent stopped during the show and said that "It's the last night of our tour, and there's no where we'd rather be than here with you kids," which got some chuckles. . .then he said that after this tour, he'd be locking himself in the studio to make some new music, and that he would emerge at the first of the year. He paused at one point and said, "I'm just trying to get a good look at all of you, 'cause I don't know when I'll see people again." We cheered like lunatics to make our presence known. Oh Trent, come back soon! We *heart* you.
On a related note, I'm so irritated. . .'cause I have pictures of the show but since I'm at my parent's house, I have no way to upload them. Grrrrr. Now, if you've ever been to Shoreline, you know that they have a bizarre policy on what kinds of cameras they will allow into the venue. They say "professional" photography equipment is not allowed (duh), but theor policy often changes on whether or not digitals are allowed. Well, yesterday before the show I was surfing the web trying to find out if digitals were allowed. The Shoreline website said that they were not going to be allowed into this particular show, only disposable cameras. . .but then a NIN fan board said that someone had e-mailed Shoreline and they had replied that digitals were okay. After all this, I didn't know what to think. But I knew I wanted to bring my camera and try to get some Trent action. When I was walking into the front gates at Shoreline, there were all these "security" guards telling everyone that digital cameras were NOT allowed, only disposables. SO I did what any self-respecting woman with cleavage would do. I hid my camera in between my boobs. :) It worked! The security guards didn't even attempt to frisk me, probably because I was wearing a skirt with no pockets and my bondage tank top (seemingly) had no place to hide anything. Success!!! So I got in, and while my seat was okay, most of the pictures I took were of Trent on the jumbotron thing. But they're still good. I'll post them on Flickr later.
In a recent development, my neck is crazy stiff from all of the sweaty headbanging I did last night. Seriously. Pain. But I think some Advil will help me out.
My flight back to LA is tonight at 8:05PM. Pretty soon I'll be back in SoCal. . .back to the job hunt. . .back to life, back to reality. . .
Tonight I'm going to see NIN at Shoreline Ampitheater in Mountain View. I had asked a while back if anyone wanted to go with me on my now-defunct MySpace page, and no one took the bait. . .so I'm flying solo. I was careful to pack all my black, pseudo-goth wear for the event. . .long black skirt, Docs, this black rather bondage-y tank top, and of course, my entire barrage of chainmail jewelry. Hey man, concerts like this aren't just shows. . .they're like Halloween and a show rolled into one for me. Did I mention I'm also going to go full-tilt with the black eyeliner?? :)
I have been searching online to see if I'm allowed to bring my camera to the show. Can't find the info anywhere, so I guess I'll just take it and hope they don't confiscate it. I think my seat is pretty shitty, but I'm sure I'd be able to get some decent shots of the stage that are fit for posting on Flickr.
Oh, and my conspicuous absence was due to my 2-week sojourn to Kauai, which was fantastic. . .I have yet to upload the many pictures I took on the trip, though, so I'll hold off on posting an entry about that for now.
Oh, and why the hell am I up so damn early?!?! On Hawaii time, it's 4AM. This sucks. I'm tired. I think I'll try taking a snooze now.
As I was eating my bowl of granola this morning, I turned on the telly to find (as usual) that the programming on a Sunday morning is akin to watching paint dry. I have no interest in evangelical shows (no, wait, that's not entirely true. . .I tend to watch them for about 5 minutes if I'm in need of an especially good laugh) and perhaps I should be watching "Meet the Press" and "Face the Nation," but I'm rarely interested. What's a girl to watch whilst eating her granola?? World Cup soccer.
Now, I've never been a big soccer fan, but I realize it's status as the most popular sport in the world. This morning's match: Brazil vs. Australia. Here's what I have learned from watching for about 10 minutes: Soccer players are hot.
I've known this for awhile; after all, the soccer players at my high school were always gorgeous and in shape without being Hulk-scary; and I am well aware of English soccer star David Beckham and his extreme meterosexual hotness. But I'm watching the game now, and I am particularly smitten with the Australian team. Those are some FINE athletes. Tan, toned, and just plain sexy.
My friend Tommy is going to New Zealand in July, maybe he can travel to Australia and bring one home for me. . . :)
I know what you're thinking. . ."School's over, bitch, I don't want any more homework!!" But this assignment is a good one.
If you have never listened to Billy Joel's album "The Stranger" in it's entirety, undisturbed and straight through, you must do it. Trust me. It's brilliant from beginning to end.
Particularly noteworthy songs: "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant" and "Vienna."
Now go. Make your summer school teacher proud.
Just finished watching my most recent Netflix selection, "In the Name of the Father" (1993) with Daniel Day-Lewis and Emma Thompson. I realized that I inadvertantly have created an Irish film festival in my home this week, as the next movie due to me tomorrow is "The Commitments." At any rate, this was an excellent film with brilliant performances all around; Daniel Day-Lewis was superb in the role of Gerry Conlon, a Belfast native who is wrongly imprisoned for 15 years and believed to be a member of the IRA involved in the bombing of an English pub that killed 5 in 1974. To be quite honest, the IRA is something that I have always wanted to learn more about, but has always been one of those things that I never quite got around to exploring in depth. Apparently, the film is based on the autobiography of Gerry Conlon, entitled "Proven Innocent." I am looking forward to finding this text and learning even more.
One of the most surprising bits of the film for me was that the majority of the prison scenes were actually filmed in Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin, which I toured last August. The interior architecture is unmistakable; it was a truly sobering place and the severity of atrocities committed in the jail blew my mind. I wish I had posted a picture of Kilmainham's interior to my Flickr site, but I had just learned how to upload pictures at that point, and neglected to upload my entire Ireland set (to do so would have taken days.) Instead, I have blogged one of my favorite photos from my Dublin trip, taken in St. Stephen's Green. The photo has a surreal quality about it that has always fascinated me.
I got a lovely, generic rejection letter from that company I so wanted to work for today. Needless to say, after spending the past three days going crazy wanting to hear from them, this was not the desired response. Nor was the way in which it was communicated: via an impersonal e-mail of the "thank-you-for-your-interest" variety. I guess I take things too personally, but I am so, so disappointed. And it would have been nice to know what I did "wrong" so I could improve upon it for future opportunities. It just seemed wierd to be dropped so quickly, considering I had a great repoire with the Human Resources coordinator. And I'm sick of my current job; they treat me like crap and I don't even get paid enough to pay my rent. I think that's what lends a feeling of urgency to this whole process. . .it's not like I don't like my job but it pays the bills. . .it doesn't even do THAT. So the need for a well-paying job is more important than ever.
Grrrr. I don't know. I know I would be a great worker, and I know that it's this company's loss to not have me on their team. I guess I'll keep on truckin' and applying to other places.
I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I have been interviewing with a company recently and I would die of joy to work for them. I'm also not telling too many people the specifics because that would most likely get me into a big phat jinx, and I wouldn't get hired, then I would have to spend all this time recounting my miserable failure to the world. And that's not cool, man.
So far I have had a phone interview, and I am supposed to hear back from them again this Tuesday or Wednesday. Which means I'll be spending all of Monday twiddling my thumbs and climbing the walls (not at the same time, that would be incredibly difficult.) I so want this. I am so READY for this. It has taken me a long time (and a year of therapy) to get to a place in my life where I truly feel confident enough to take on a career. I know I can do this. And I wouldn't have been able to say that before now.
Anyway, the recruiter told me that there are openings for this position at two of their locations. . .Mountain View (back in the homeland of NorCal) or. . .down here in Santa Monica. Hmmmm. Interesting quandry. It didn't take long for me to settle on Santa Monica, and I told her that. Naturally, mom was not pleased with my decision. And there are a handful of people I would love to be closer to besides my family (Eli, could you IMAGINE the trouble we could get ourselves into? It's delicious just thinking about it.) :) But. . .I think overall I have an aversion to moving back when I feel I should be moving ahead. I truly feel that every new place is an adventure. . .and I would love to stay close to my great friends and life I have created for myself down here. Of course, I'm fully aware that I would be moving even farther into the belly of the beast: if I thought it was tough to find a guy in the IE, it's going to be ten times harder in fluffy, fancy-pants, beautiful-people Santa Monica. I think I can handle it. I'll just starve myself and get a tiny dog that I carry around in a Louis Vuitton bag.
I just realized that I started this blog not wanting to "get my hopes up," and I just wrote a whole entry on living in Santa Monica. Christ. I'm hopeless.
Oh, so do me a favor: it I don't mention this job anymore in future entries, don't ask me about it, k? 'Cause in this situation, no news is bad news. :)
So, I'm fresh off of watching "Reality Bites" for the first time. Seriously, the song "My Sherona" is playing with the end credits in the other room as I type. I know I'm ridiculously ass-backward for not seeing this film until now, but it's fucking brilliant. And while I've never been an Ethan Hawke fan, holy SHIT, I'm ready to jump him right now. Troy Dyer: Will you marry me? Okay, well, I don't ever want to get married, but we can live some crazy bohemian lifestyle where I make homemade macrame and your band plays at the monthly tree planting cermonies for our commune. Oh, and there would be sex. Lots of great sex.
This film touched so many chords in me. . .I don't think I would have appreciated it if I had seen it any younger, and especially not if I were still living at home. So much of this made sense. . .Ben Stiller ingeniuously captured the unrest and insecurities of recent college grads so well. Like usual, I identified most with the Janeane Garofolo character--I tend to associate myself with the pessimistic bitches of the cinematic world. Although I suppose I was more pessimistic when I was in high school--I'm not like that anymore-- but I'm still just as snarky, if not more so. And I wouldn't trade that for anything. Except Troy Dyer. Which would be a delicious irony, when you think about it.
Like Vicki said. . .I don't ever want to get married, because I never want to be okay with peeing in front of my partner with the door open. That's fucked up. Even when I was in my juvenile "golly-gee-this-must-be-love" relationship with my first boyfriend, that was somewhere neither of us wanted to go. Also an excellent point: when Vicki says that she never wants to get married because she always wants there to be passion, romance, exciting first kisses. . .I'm paraphrasing, but you get the point. Not that I am against committed relationships. . .I just don't think marriage is in the cards for me. I have yet to find any man who can truly stand me. I'm not a tough nut to crack, but I don't go down easy. Carrying this nut analogy one step further: I guess I'm like a macadamia. There's a ton of labor involved in just getting past the shell, but once you do, there's one helluva reward inside.
How I went from "Reality Bites" to macadamias is beyond me. But one thing remains constant: I still want to fuck Troy Dyer.