May 19th, 2008

boobies

Blossoming . . .

I've been in a very, very odd mood for the past few weeks. Each moment I pay attention to my surroundings, my mind flickers between being reminded of distant memories and seeing everything as completely new. I wonder if old business is being brought to the surface to be dealt with and gotten rid of.

So Saturday was a busy day, indeed. I'd been invited to a pirate wedding and had a ticket to the Duran Duran show that night. I managed to squeeze in both.

The wedding was quite fun--it was held in the couple's backyard and was a relatively casual affair. Well, you know, as casual as a wedding can be where nearly everybody's dressed up as a pirate. I just threw on my old RenFest rags (I still had the things!) with some boots and that seemed sufficient. The ceremony was brief, the wedding cake was shaped like a treasure chest and cut with swords, and the reception apparently went on well into the night. I hung out long enough for a drink of apple pie (no, really, it was a fermented apple and cinnamon beverage that was deceptively sweet but reportedly quite strong, so I stuck to one full glass with lots of ice) and some dinner and wedding cake and then motored on to Chastain for the Duran Duran show.

Nobody at the show asked about the outfit. I was a little disappointed at that.

Anyway, I made it just in time to see the opening act, a band called Your Vegas who were surprisingly good. I headed to the ladies' just as they were wrapping up and lucked out to find the one bathroom that apparently nobody knew existed and thus there was no line for it.

And on the way back to my seat, I ran into Mr. TBH with his girlfriend.

It took me half a second to recognize him, honestly. Considering how much he mocked me for my Duran Duran fixation, he was pretty much one of the last people I expected to run across. But, ya know, there he was with the girlfriend and it was the greatest blessing I could have asked for.

No, actually, I'm not being sarcastic. I sat down at their table and we had an amiable chat. I invited them both to my housewarming party and embraced them both and was able to part on much better terms than the last time I saw them in person.

I bought a tourbook and took my seat just as the show was starting. The first three songs in the set were the first three tracks of the new album and I was starting to wonder if they were going to play the whole damn album in order, but then they shifted to "Hungry Like the Wolf" and the folks to my right finally stood up.

I did enjoy the show, really. I'm not as morally opposed to Red Carpet Massacre as some of the folks on my friends list, and seeing them play the songs from it with enthusiasm certainly made them more interesting to me than when I heard them on CD.

I absolutely LOVED the Electro Set. For you non-Duranie folk, a pause to explain--they did a short set in the middle of the show where they stripped down to three keyboards and a simplified drum kit and did some reworked classics ("Last Chance on the Stairway") some tracks that were pretty much synthed out anyway ("All She Wants Is") and threw in a couple of riffs from other songs entirely ("Warm Leatherette"). It was the kind of stuff I go to live shows for to begin with--not to hear the songs perfectly replicated, but to hear them a little bit differently.

The downside was, there were two Duranies next to me (only one of them actually had a proper seat there, but when she saw there was room, she invited her friend over) who were snapping pictures with their digital cameras throughout the ENTIRE FREAKIN' SHOW. Anybody who knows me at all knows that when I go to see bands I like, I tend to dance to them rather enthusiastically. This show was no exception, but my style was rather cramped by these two.

Anyway. Mr. TBH sent me a text towards the end of the set and I chortled mightily:

Nick Rhodes SO wishes he was BRIAN ENO!

(Did I mention I still love this man? Stuff like this is why.)

The show ended, the crowd dispersed and I crossed paths with froofie and we agreed to meet up at The Poshest Hotel In Atlanta where the band was rumored to be staying. By the time I arrived, I was starting to regret it. My body was starting to crash after so much being on my feet and around people, but I stuck it out because I try to keep to my word. By the time froofie arrived, I was so out of my skull that I wandered off with her and her friends Kristin and Al without even telling the other friends I'd been hanging with where I was going. We went to the restaurant, I had a nice glass of wine, the band was nowhere to be seen, and I didn't give a damn.

(The irony? I found out later they weren't even staying there. They were staying at the place what that used to be the Hotel Nikko. Brenda, are you laughing?)

I meandered home and pretty much sacked out for most of Sunday. I opted to do the evening Catholic Thing with dinner afterwards and my brother docwhoopee joined me for it.

Today was going to be meeting with Lake about our business venture, but Lake phoned me and told me she was terribly sick, so we had to postpone. Instead, I holed up and did some tidying up, including going through the three bags of shoes that my parents had been kind enough not to get rid of even though they'd been in their closet since I moved out a year and a half ago. One pair of shoes went to the giveaway pile and three pairs went straight to the trash can; the rest I'm still hanging on to for now.

Which brings me to about now.

Today I took pleasure in listening Nick Drake's Bryter Layter in the car.

Today I learned a sneaky way to get home if the turn lane is backed up to the back of beyond.
  • Current Music
    The Beatles, "To Know Her Is To Love Her"