One of the few cool things I can say I got into from the boy: Gary Wilson. There's a show Saturday night, but for once, I'm being good and not spending a 1/5th of my budget (these are lean, lean times for me) on one thing. Is it wrong to wish I was a real music blogger for half a second so a girl could get a damned free ticket? Ah well. It's going to be a rad show regardless.
Another good upcoming show prompted Alex calling from London to note that the lineup read totally as something I would've planned myself.
Warp Records and Bleep PresentIf I would've planned it, Dragons of Zynth would've slid in there somewhere. And it's even a weekend night, so I won't be too chained to my desk to go! Yay!
An NYC Live Spectacular
Saturday 18 November 2006Jamie Lidell
Battles
Man Man
Clark
James T Cotton
Warp & Bleep DJ
MC Lyte, Poor Georgie
Toto, Georgy Porgy
Big Daddy Kane, Smooth Operator
Marley Marl, The Symphony
Meli'sa Morgan, Fools Paradise
I read once somewhere or another (more than a little skeptically) that my star sign is all about opposing duality. That's not especially news to me. I feel like I'm always fighting between doing the right thing and not making waves and saying "yeah, fuck that shit" with my ass-kicking boots on. Sometimes I'm a perfect Girl Scout and others angelic is least appropriate descriptor. Then again, can't that describe almost anyone? Such is life I suppose. I can't think of a time when I didn't have a reputation for being mercurial.
I'm trying to wrap up an overly extended delayed gratification period. All work and no play makes me a dull girl. I'm getting back out in the world with baby steps. I realized that the revisted boy trip was like aggravating a sprain. I'm itching to really get my shit together already. There's so many unicorns out there to catch.
Friday night started off with my bad habit of following 9-10 hours of work with a visit to the boy's studio downstairs. I dimmed as he tersely fumbled around on his computer and half-ignored me. I seethed as he brushed off my expertise and could barely feign interest at this design idea I need technical help to make a reality. I took pictures of the back of his head and contemplated making a desktop dartboard or at least a fun Photoshop defacing project. I spy him reading an email from my bizarro, the ex (we have the same initials, how freaky). I contemplate if he'd feel differently about me if I was a lying cheat or over the top in my self-obsession, and quickly shoot that down with the thought that I'd be stuck with him then. And I wondered when my stupid unromantic life began to resemble bad R&B song lyrics. I thought I outgrew all that shit years ago.
We traipse into town in search of open bar action and good music. I think to myself that it's the first time I've been to Manhattan in 2 weeks. If I didn't see it from the window at work, I'd forget the place exists sometimes. He constantly talks in half-baked bullshit and the dark hides my scowl. I am not entertained. At the place, it's a Sapph reunion with the people I saw weekly for years and I feel almost nostalgic. I'm forced to introduce him to one of those old friends and I wish I had resisted harder because it implies we're together. This terrible dancing shaggy-haired hipster fuck makes me look bad. I scowl some more until the music uplifts my mood. He leans down to whisper in my ear about the greatness of the song and I whisper in his during the next one about my awesome memory of that one. He leans away and cuts me off.
That night, like every night, I synthesize his every word and he loses interest in mine after the initial couple. I call him transparent and he calls me inscrutable, except he doesn't know that word. I call him shallow and he says that I am "the opposite of shallow, high like the Himalayas. You're always so above it all." I scowl at him and say, "you don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. The opposite of shallow is deep." And he says I'm wrong and we snap back and forth. I spit out: "every stupid episode with you is just a cheap imitation of bullshit I've already been through with someone else. I'm tired of it, it wears me out, and makes me feel like I'm 150 years old." And only glorious silence follows.
Saturday night was a big birthday blowout for one of my favorite coworkers. PrincessNella and I rolled through.To my surprise, there was one of my unicorns from yet another coworker's party. He's a friend of a guy I work with constantly and we had shared a night-long flirtation and a dance before I dropped the ball as usual. He came over and I got my formal introduction...and then dropped the ball again. I explained pathetically to my friends that I can't even interact right anymore. I convinced myself so that unicorns don't even exist that I don't even know what to do when confronted with one. I can do passive dysfunctional fine, but anything else is a challenge. Still, I'm trying my best to change. I deserve a unicorn.
The Breaks and VH1 Soul are rocking my world right now.
Foster Sylvers, Misdemeanor
The DOC, It's Funky Enough
Shyne, That's Gangsta
Quincy Jones, Summer In The City
Sade, Nothing Can Come Between Us