May 2005 Archives

I've spent a surprising amount of time with R. "I get a hard-on for water sports and adolescents" Kelly's new 5 part melodrama/song, "Trapped In The Closet." I've still got 2 1 more parts to go. Once I got over waiting for Ron Isley to pop in there, a few things popped out for me:

1. I'm kinda fascinated by the moral code -- or lack of. Everyone's a cheater. Everyone's been shady and sneaking around. No one finds it that out of the ordinary their husbands are still out of the house at 7am. Yet I like the "what's good for the goose is good for the gander" aspect. The spoilers for part 4 have Kells getting a surprise in his bed which I find hilarious.

1a. The mock outrage. Since everyone's a cheat, you'd think they'd be above getting on their high horses about it.

2. The song is fundamentally absurd. If I got caught by a cuckolded husband, the last thing I'd do is wait around and see what his surprise is -- me waving a gun or not. It would've been a different -- and possibly more entertaining -- song if Chuck was only pretending to be the lover and ended up sticking Kells up with a gun. He should've been out of there almost immediately.

3. The names are just funny to me because I really don't think there's a black person under the age of 45 named Chuck, Cathy, or Rufus, so I was mentally visualizing Kathy being CCH Pounder (I actually have no idea if she's over 45 or not).

4. The most vivid mental connection I get when I hear this is like I'm listening to a "chitlin circuit" show. If someone made a script out of these songs and put it on at the Beacon, they'd be rolling in the dough. And now that I think of it....

4a. The throwaway lines are brilliant. "There's a mystery here and I'm gonna solve it!" "Don't give me that mack shit please." "Why don't I just go out the window?/Except for one thing: we're on the fifth floor/Shit...think...shit...think" "Brother spare me the detail" "I should've known you'd go and do some bogus shit up in my house!"

ETA: 5. Part 4 is total crap. Talk about a letdown! He couldn't go one song without reminding you he's the Twelve Play guy! It so better pick up for part 5.

6. The video for Part 1 is up. I'd say it's well done. I totally though Rufus was Farnzworth Bentley at first though!

Related sorta (yes and no) is that Anthony has walked himself right into a shitstorm. I'm wary of double-barrel shotgun blast type of bombast in the best of terms, but in this one I especially think the vitrol towards him is misguided. I've spoken my piece on it and I'm not defending much about his article's position, but saying that by giving them a tentative pass in one review you are saying yes to rape/patriarchy/subjugation is a real leap.

[via Stevie Nixed]

To tide you over until I get some time to spill on Monday's swaggerrific fun, a celeb sighting:

I work in Chelsea/Garment District, so every once in a while I see folks. Did I see Rufus Wainwright with his flip flops in the winter time heading towards the Chelsea Hotel? Indeed. Was that Rob Zombie I spied crossing towards Whole Foods one day? You know, I'm still not sure...his hair wasn't caked with gook and he looked like a regular white guy with not bad dreads.

Anyhoo, on Thursday evening, I was leaving my job and running late for a meeting. I exit out the freight door and almost run smack into a little guy (like my size) and his walking companion. They're chatting on and on about some project or another and he's ultratheatrical. I let them go past and I end up walking behind them. The guy keeps looking at his friend while he's talking and I realize I recognize the profile. Internal process: "Ohmigod...it's Freddie's date rapist from a Different World! Man, I loved that episode! Oh wait...okay, he's been in more stuff. Holy fuck...it's Bruce Leroy! I've got to call Fizzie!" I was stuck behind them for a good block and as soon as they disappeared, called up Fizzie with the news. He squealed when I told him and I revealed the ultraembarassing Richard Grieco story (which is unblogged I believe). Good times, good times. (Check out this thread on IMDB. Brings the funny for real.)

Isn't it fitting that the corniest song of 2005 has a crappy video too? I hate that song. It's starting to make me twitch, but I can't escape it. Twice in the past day, it's been dropped in places that you would think should know better. Boo. ETA: Get lost, Stefani fans. I don't really care how many comments you leave, I don't plan on adding them. Go write a fan letter or something.

The most exciting parts of my weekend were the last bit of laundry, two new pairs of sneakers (I'm so cool and fashion forward I can hardly stand it), and friends QT. Friday night, saw a show spent too much money, 'twas rainy and cold all weekend, boo. Saturday, Ant and I lounged around the house enjoying not having to be chained to our desks. Weekends are thoroughly inactive around these parts. Dear Work Fairies, set us free from our slave labor miseries! The money's not worth the stress!

Later on that night, I met up with Jay-V and friends on the West 3rd Strip. A birthday was being celebrated and I had floated out the name of a club in the area as one they might like. Apparently, the place was beyond pale and on an 80s and rock kick, so the early arrivers ran screaming (on the inside) to the place next door. I met up with them and I felt like I had been whisked back to Wes. It was like an X party meets grown and sexy. Hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop with a side of dancehall. I usually find myself in some makeshift event somewhere, so I was amused by the "wow...people dress up to go to parties?! That's amazing!" novelty. That soon wore off paying $9 for a fucking rum and cranberry...after a $10 cover which was only bearable because I'd just found $10 in a cab on the way there. I hate going anywhere in that fucking neighborhood...unless wings are involved.

PrincessNella and I trotted off to Emerald, this joint way east where the friend C sent me a text about having an afterhours. I sipped a (cheaper) rum & cran and blathered on and on about the perpetual stupidity of my love life. In a nutshell: dud in every permutation, but occasionally entertaining -- to other people at least. At 4am on the way home, a phantom voicemail from The Director. I laughed dismissively and went to home to get meow-yelled at by my cat.

The other day after work, I did something big for me. I kept on going around the circle until I ended up all the way around Grand Army Plaza. I crossed Eastern Parkway and strolled up to the library. And then, I went inside.

I spent so much time in that place when I was a kid. Every big school assignment meant a trip to the Central Library with my dad and usually a stopoff at Wing Wagon on the way home. I haven't been in there since at least '95 and it looked so much larger than I remembered. I waited in line and got my shiny new card (I lost the old one in my wallet losing extravaganza before Christmas). I set off in one direction and then another before I walked up to the info desk and asked "uh...where are the...other books? Here's a number I'm looking for." It kinda felt like old me leaving the place with a big stack. I'm so behind on stuff I want to read. Scored: Hip: A History. Ego Trip's Big Book of Racism. Swift As Desire. In My Place. Girls' Night Out. I wanted the Zora Neale Hurston bio but no dice for me. And then I got home and started thinking about taking a class this summer. And went into shock when I saw they wanted $450+ in two weeks. Err...I've got to think about that one. But, I'm finally trying to get over the malaise and do something to get my mind working again.

Oh, did I mention that the present plan is that unless I can find some awesome new job here in town before the end of summer, I'm just going to finish up the lease and decamp from the city altogether? West Coast, here I come! Perhaps...I'm leaning towards there. I want somewhere really different from NYC with more sun (but no desert) yet with enough things going on that I can still feel I'm seeing new art/music/fashion/whatever. Oh yeah, and a place I can get a decent job also. Independently wealthy, we are indeed not. Though if I spoke Spanish/Portuguese/better French, my ass would be out with the passport so fast, your head would spin. In my dreams at least.

I'm throwing out the pre-plan out to the folks this weekend. I can hear now Mr. Daddy either freaking out and/or asking me what guy I'm running to/from. He's silly like that.

The looking forward somewhat addition.

Woo boy, summer concert season is almost here. The Summerstage schedule is out (and completely non-user friendly), but filled with a lot of good and random stuff as usual: Femi Kuti, Brazilian Girls, Tortured Soul, Burnt Sugar Arkestra, David Byrne, Blind Boys of Alabama, Dinosaur Jr, Radio 4, MC5, Barrington Levy, and Yolanda Adams. Yay for free! And in Prospect Park: Hugh Maskela, Antibalas, and Ozomatli. Chase is sponsoring a heap o' events all over town. It's gonna be a fun summer.

More later.

Sorry. Busy and stuff. But, keep watch: I've got Tortured Soul, the grime Heat party, and odds and ends for you like tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Battles' "B + T" holds the spot as my absolute favorite song of May to date.

ETA: Well that tomorrow ended up being a few days, but it's all good.

Thursday was the light at the end of the tunnel of the longest week ever. I was tired from going out Wednesday -- a waste of a trip if any -- and definitely in a mood by the time I forced myself out into the world again after work. I got to SOB's just before Tortured Soul went on. I realized there that it's one of those venues I always mean to go to but never follow through. I've been there only once or twice I believe -- a Slick Rick show in like '98 and this party two years ago. The one thing I did remember was the gouging you get buying drinks in that joint. Brand X rum and cranberry is like $8.50. A) WTF? B) How annoying and arbitrary to charge non-whole numbers! So, I was already in a mood going into the show.

I smooshed myself into the front area and was so thrilled getting beaten with a drunkie's bag from behind and my feet stepped on from the front by a guy doing the Elaine dance. I watched with amusement as this guy with a trucker hat and a bandanna got his Timberfake '01 on. The band was tight but all I could think about was how the venue sucked. It was like Sapph doubled in size with the stupid pillars intact. I just wasn't feeling it and left before the end of the set.

I leisurely strolled across town to Sapph and made myself comfortable in my corner. I got to raid a free pile of mags (Complex! Love love love!) and get my T's whim mystery drink while surveying. There was a bachelorette party in the house and I snickered as the bride-to-be had to order stupid things like a slow blowjob. For the record, if I ever get married and have to do that crap, do not take me somewhere lame like Jackrabbit Slims or Nerveana or trash like that. First of all, I'll walk out. And secondly, that couldn't be farther from what I'd like to do. Four words: Male strippers and Vegas. Well I dunno if I'd like to do that either but it's at least fun to imagine.

Anyways, I got into the briefest of convos with Mr. Man. We're friends of friends and at least familiar looking to each other after almost two years. He's on the wagon and sticking to water nowadays. Admirable in his scene for sure. He recommended highly that April Complex and was off. As was I soon to Aaron The Outer's party where I stood in the corner and drank water for a few mins before making my way home.

Friday night, I was in bed at 10:30 and woke up the next day at 8:30. I was beat and the Bermuda Triangle effect of the apartment was in full effect Saturday afternoon. I meant to run errands and go to a really cool event, but instead I napped, cleaned my room, and chilled until the evening.

The rag tag bunch of me, Trendvickster, Farmer, and C with The Brit and his brother coming along later went to Crash Mansion and one of the worst promoted parties I've ever. The Director and friends were supposed to come along also, but they got sidetracked. It would've been worlds colliding event, even more stranger than it was already. Back in Miami, the Vice Records guy made a big deal at the panel of how they target a certain crowd and they expect to "break" grime that way. Let me tell you that they're fucking up big time. The DJs were mixing crunk and reggaeton with the grime, 2step, and garage and I thought to myself that it all went together pretty well. People who go to hip hop parties could get down to that, but they never will if they don't know about it. There was live rhyming and DJ Cameo was laying it down crazy. C and I were going nuts but the rest of the crowd might as well have been statues. Seriously, what's the point of going to high energy events and standing around like you're watching a golf game? Hipster fucks ruin everything. It definitely also sucked for the performers because there's no fun in flying overseas to perform in a half-empty party as lively as a tomb. Grr...angry angry angry.

I tagged with C and The Brits to the afterhours party. The kid frustrates me. We've basically hit a wall. Oh we like each other a lot and that's great, but nothing is ever going to happen there. He's in sowing the wild oats mode after being on lockdown for nearly six years and I'm finally out of the wild stage and just want to settle down with someone and watch tv. And at the same time, he's ultra serious about his job and working his way up the ladder and I can't run away from mine fast enough. In most other situations, I'd keep at it to see what happens but I'm trying to learn from mistakes and dead shit when it's just not working. And I've tried and tried on this one but it's DOA. Ah well. Relax, relate, release, etc.

Two years ago today, my little procrastination tool is still here. I started off talking about the silly things I was up to and shouting my frustrations to far away friends. Now, it's been pretty much the same -- though occasionally a little too emo for my tastes. It's been a fun ride and shall hopefully continue on. My little KP is two! (Does that make the blog a toddler now?)

Since it's becoming a sort of a yearly tradition, I'm still Candicissima. 24. Music junkie. Jaded New Yorker. Social explorer. Hater and a lover. Aspirant. Temperamental. In transition.

Let's hope the next 365 are even more interesting.

Eh. Vacation aborted. I wasn't trying to kill it or anything -- like I said, if I was going there, I'd have deleted the whole thing -- but I'm over the metaness of how it is right now (says she, being meta). It's just not fun for me anymore. It's like "peek into the head of a girl, 24 going on 14." I hate it. I'm vain and angsty and blah enough in real life without having randoms across the lands know it also. The coming up on 2 year anniversary rule: less meta, more fun.

Anyways, Trendvickster and I took in Prefuse extravaganza #2 at the Bowery. In continuing the "I can't go anywhere without running into someone I know" thing, Friday night was a HS girl and Saturday was a gaggle of Wes kids. One in particular I knew well back in the day since our radio station time slots were back to back senior year. I hate the torture of formalities you have to go through. It's like a pissing contest. "What do you do?" as code for "let me tell you why I'm so fabulous." I don't even have a shitty job on paper (in terms of mentally, it's asstastic), but I hate how those conversations are just gauge if you've become a "loser" or not since your escape from school/wherever. And he further bugged me by hating on the new Prefuse and saying that he'd only gotten into him via One Word (what did I say yesterday about neophyte hipster fucks?) and though every album was progressively worse since Vocal Studies(!!!!), he decided to check out the show anyway. Around then, we moved away because I thought my head would explode.

Bowery Ballroom is hands down best live venue in town. I adore that place. I'll see anyone play there. We staked out a place near the front for the show. We loved Beans -- how I've managed to avoid him/his shows/his music for so long is actually a major mystery to me. He had something everyone else on the bill lacked: stage charisma and interplay with the audience. Though I guess, when it's you and your music player standing in the corner of the stage, I guess you have to interact. I love his voice -- both rapping delivery and speaking voice. He talks from the stage like "hey, I'm up here performing right this minute but after this, I'm gonna like take my videos back to Blockbuster and maybe we can hang out, so I'll catch you later." And after his set, he was just in the lobby hanging out. We had been on our way to check out the merch table (You know what would be a nice belated bday or happy blogiversary present, the "I Have Battles In My Life" bag. What the fuck does that even mean(?!), but damn I want one! Anyone catching a later tour date, let me know and I might send you the $20 to cover that) and we were pissed that there was no Beans CDs. We spotted him and I encouraged Trendvickster to go yell at him. She did just that and he was like "sorry, but you can get it at the store. I make more money that way. Don't be mad, give me a hug!" And I was like "ha!" hanging back and he said, "don't be shy, you. Come get a hug too!" Hilarity! I even ran into him later when The Director and I went into the afterparty and he said, "oh, I remember you. Give me another hug!" He's great.

Battles were awesome again and I was surprised that their set was mostly different from the night before. On one hand, thank god, but on the other, I liked those fucking songs and I think they were just slighty more fun than the ones they picked -- minus a repeat or two I recognized. We marvelled at the rail-thinness of most of the band -- probably with the exception of the drummer who is like a super ripped giant man. I've never heard anyone hit a drum kit so hard -- not even at the Deftones show! And then the random cymbal like 6 feet in the air that he hit without even shifting that much. He's a monster.

Another thing I noted between the two shows were how fast they were on stage. Friday, it seemed there was always dead space between setting up and playing that just dragged, but last night was like clockwork. I don't even think there was 10 mins in between Beans and Battles. They must have a stern taskmaster at Bowery. Another cute thing was everyone wearing each other's shirts. Beans had a Battles shirt, Tyondai of Battles was wearing a Prefuse one, and the Prefuse drummer was wearing a Beans one (though I might have just made the last one up. It's fuzzy now that I think about it.). I'd say the Prefuse set was better than the night before. The only different song I noticed was Choking You but I think the band was tighter this time around. I also thought about how much I hate the "let's go offstage like we're just gonna leave, but instead come back and play another song so the crowd will think they had some effect on us" thing.

Post-show, pizza and we got latched onto by a random Australian who wanted to talk our ear off about the Jet/Oasis double bill (erm, no thanks) and The Director popped up. Trendvickster called it a night and we wandered uptown in search of other friends and the show after party. (Oh, did you know I'm not only a hipster, but a snob too? News to me!) They killed Openair!!! I loved that place. When I first moved back to town, it was one of the first places I went to where they were playing the electronic music that I liked to listen to at home. The changeover is especially annoying because all they did was strip away the flat screens and put some pseudo-APT wallpaper up. Wack but the drinks are still cheapish. Like I said before, Beans was there and chatting near me to some guy who was like "dude, you're great. I love that fucking Karate Kid line!" and misquoted it, but was lovingly corrected. It reminded me of how I laughed when I heard it. We then cabbed it back to BK, drop off in Williamsburg for him, and straight down Whythe/Franklin to my hood. I'm becoming addicted to cabbing it in my old age. Living closer to everything has only made me more lazy.

If you really thought I was going to go to the Prefuse show and have nothing to say about it, you're insane! After this, I shall return to the hiatus already in progress...

(A quick note about the Farmer reunion...in keeping with the "chaste rules!" turn everything's been taking lately, we met up at Lit (where we randomly ran into Jenny), got drunkish, and just talked for what feels like the first time in too long. With laughing and yelling and hugs. How fucking adult! And he's being good for his girl in Merry Olde and I'm...I dunno. A big yay! for trying to have a real friendship and clearing the air. If anything, it strenghtens the thought I had the other week about going off on some "hey, we should still talk since it seemed like we were going to be at least decent friends for a while there" missions since I've been bad with cutting things off at the knees this year. If I can have a nice reconcilation with Farmer, anything should be possible.)

Concert numero uno was deep in the heart of the neighborhood I'd been doing a good job of avoiding until the last month or so, Williamsburg. There was last weekend's party and an encounter with The Brit weeks ago and now The Director's moved out there. Bah to it just the same.

Northsix is a weird venue -- it's like a cross between a high school gym and an auto body shop. I wandered around, staking out a nice spot on the wall near the bathroom and then getting annoyed when people took that as a cue to stand like an inch in front of me blocking up the aisle. Seriously, what's up with that? I've hated that aspect about every show I've ever been to. I can't be the only person in the world who would rather be farther than closer to other people. If there's the space, there's no point in being packed up like sardines. Give me some breathing room, please! And why does it always have to be some asshole who wants to flip her hair in your face/is 10 feet taller? Gah. Still, I'm happy I did the 5'7"ish conversion because the giants (and the midgety girls who love them) were out in full force. Are concerts really date activities? The last place I'd want a date is a show because unless I hate it and want to talk shit, I'll be no doubt paying more attention to it than you. Concert going reminds me I fucking hate most concerts. They make me more curmudgeonly than usual. And since I'm already complaining, the crowd was ass too. It was fairly obvious most of them bought up the tickets because they'd heard One Word Extinguisher only (it was pretty well reviewed, you know) and besides that, Prefuse is cool, man. You know, I almost named this post "Surrounded By Statues" because that was what it was like during the set.

But on to the rest of it, I missed Beans because the weather was kinda crappy and I was running late and finally decided to cab it since it was around 10 and there was no way I'd get there before midnightish on my planned out route. I arrived as Four Tet got into it. He's further proving a truism that every Kieran is super hot. He was doing the man at a console setup but he was bouncing all about so endearingly. I was thinking that I really should be doing something rather than staring at the stage since there really was nothing to see, but I was so locked into position by the hoardes that it was inevitable. I was amused by the copycat effect in the audience of "well, he's freaking out on some beat, so maybe I should do that also!" I think I'd heard maybe one Four Tet song over the years, but now I've got to comb the catalog.

Next up was Battles, a group notable to me at first because a guest vocalist from Surrounded... is a member and I think he's a friend of one of my Friendster to real life friends. I truthfully didn't know what to expect, but it was ridiculous! A random concertgoer who I struck up a convo with asked me my opinion and I said: "it was like Living Colour got together and decided to do nothing but Tool covers." For me, that would be camp out on the streets and enter every stupid contest under the sun and bribe/cheat/steal to get in on the awesomeness, so to say I liked it would be the understatement of the year. Take a wild guess about the last group I connected with so instantly. If you can see them, GO.

The venue had lost a fair amount of people by the time Prefuse and crew got on circa 12:45ish. Setup was two drum kits, bass, and shit too far in the back of the stage for me to see but what I assume was turntables, keyboards, and sampler. It was sublime to hear songs that I listened to nonstop every day for months/years. As far as I can recall, they did (in no particular order): Suite For The Way Things Change, Silencio, It's Crowded, One Word Extinguisher, Perverted Undertones, I've Said All I Need To Say About Them, And I'm Gone, Plastic, I've Got No Time For Rearviews (i think?), and I'm sure I'm forgetting something. Wild men drummers were in the house that night and the main drummer was a monster. Prefuse would man the second kit or run behind the boards depending on the song. I actually do dance at shows...imagine that! Tyondai joined them doing...erm, I'm not really sure what, perhaps something new(?) as the encore and then I was out. Trendvickster and I shall do it all again tonight.

I feel like this has currently outlived its usefulness.

I've got a lot on my plate and I'm at a point where I'd rather write for me than passive strangers. I'm trying to move forward on a lot of things and be well and healthy, but I've got too many distractions. This is one.

I'm sure I'll pop back in a min. I always do. Meanwhile, wish me the best and the best to you.

ETA: Since I've been asked, the date at the top is May 31st for a few reasons: 1) so it'll stay at the top for a while and 2) I'm not killing the blog (because if I was, I'd pull a Liminal Liberal and delete the whole thing, archives and all) 3) when it finally goes away circa early June, maybe everything'll be sorted out and I'll be ready to come back. In the meantime, the archives will be good for a laugh and I can recommend those links heavily. And I still love IMs and emails. Laters.

Ah fuck it. I give up.

Since for all intents and purposes my love life has fallen back into the sewers, May shall be Super Music Month!

Off the top of my head:
Friday, Prefuse/Four Tet/Battles @ Southpaw
Saturday, Trendvickster and I do Prefuse Part Deux/Beans/Battles @ Bowery Ballroom (Yes, two days in a row. I've got 3 albums and an EP and I've never seen the man do his songs live. I'm a little overdue!)
May 12, Tortured Soul @ SOB's
May 17, Benzos @ Mercury Lounge
May 18/19, Doves @ Webster Hall? Perhaps!
May 21, Stereophonics @ Southpaw? Perhaps!

Oh man, this has the potential to be nuts...I can't wait. Should I just give into the cliche and go buy a digicam now?

Hi, I'm a dummy that broke my Movable Type when I called myself updating! I'll figure out sooner or later how to get the comments back... I fixed it! I'm the shit! Too bad I spend more time fucking around with my site instead of actual things I have to do.

*sigh*

That's pretty much how it went this weekend. All ridiculous and comedy of errorsish.

Proving that mentioning his name is like tempting fate, Farmer popped back into town and wants to catch up. My first reaction was to go all dramatic and refuse the offer. The hazards of chatting when I'm imbibing a homemade (read: like paint thinner) concoction. Hilarity was when he said "oh yeah, Farmer's out, right?" and I responded "been reading up, have you?" Back in the day when we first met and the blog was a baby, he was amused by me forever quoting him but generally it wasn't on his radar. I'm not really surprised he was checking in while we were on the outs -- in fact, I suspected as much. (The tracker is a most useful tool!) People I've had conflict with reading the blog and keeping tabs: shocker! If only everyone was so helpful. He is actually. Net addicted writer sorts obsessively writing on the web, net addicted photographers obsessively posting pictures up pictures on the web. Imagine that. And I'm not immune to checking up on others either. Shady's site is good for a nice eyeroll or 10. God bless the internet! Anyhoo, the next day with my hangover, I rethought my position and we might meet up. And my friends have all sent me cyber slaps on the head, but yeah well. Mistakes are good as long they're fun and painless. Now I just have to endure him wanting to rehash old posts and shit. Holy hell.

The party Saturday night where I got my hangover was this random thing I went to with Alex and his brother in Williamsburg somewhere. A girl moving into his brother's building was throwing a party in her empty old apartment. Did you know the new thing with the kids is to get drunk and start tossing beer bottles onto the floor? Yeah. I dunno. We ran into this Wes girl who moved into my senior house, affectionately called The Cake House For Midgets, the year after and now lives around the corner from me. We got into a convo about which corner store we had allegiance to and she declared: "I can't stand going to that one at the corner of St. Johns. I mean, if you can't afford all the letters on your sign, you don't deserve my business!" I was totally dumbstruck. Why I tend to avoid random Wes people personified. Let's hope no one lets her know about Daily Heights happy hours!

The cat was nowhere to be found all day Sunday and we were frantically looking everywhere. I had the same stupid exchange with Ant too many times.
Candice: Where the hell can she be? There's not that many places to hide.
Ant: I dunno. You sure you looked everywhere?
Candice: Yes I did. *beat* Are you sure you guys didn't do something to her? It's okay. You can tell me.
Ant: No, we didn't. Maybe she ran away?
Candice: She's too scaredy to run away...she runs and hides if I move too quick! *beat* Are you sure J didn't kill her?
Ant: He's a gay pacificist!
Candice: Hmm. Well. I hope she turns up.

My mom visited and looked too, but no dice. A quiet mew around 9pm helped Ant and I find her in the fucking dresser drawer. My cat is a clown. She learned from the best.