Music Night... Kind of Self Explanatory

Last night I went to a show at The End in Nashville. It was my friend Jeff's band, Dropshot, formerly known as Next Years Best. They were set to play last so a bunch of us sat through 3 other semi decent bands before the guys went on stage.

The first band sounded like a weird mix of 80's and monotone voices. I did like their sound. The next band was this weird, confused, two-man band. They were loud. The lyrics, "I want to be high" and "I want to get low", in the same song, made for the confusion. The 3rd band was very good, lots of catchy songs

and kinda dirty lyrics (hahaha). My only criticism is that the singer sang with

this scratchy affected voice the entire set. It sounded as if he was wearing out the back part of his throat. It made my own throat sore just to hear him go on for 35 minutes.

Dropshot finally arrived on the stage and all the people there for the other bands left. Buttholes. A few guys from the other bands listened on which was nifty of them. I genuinely like Jeff's style. Early on in his career, when I first moved to Tennessee, it was very melodic and beautiful, and mostly acoustic in feel. Now, he's taken his beautiful voice talent and style to a rougher setting, if that makes sense. He still has some softer songs, especially with this new blend of people, but he's kept some edge which I like. I miss Next Years Best (they were really loud and awesome), but I dig Dropshot.

I'm so Vain....... New Hair Pics

I got my hair cut last week and added some color! I love it. It's very similar to when I first cut my hair short last summer.

--
Sent from my T-Mobile Sidekick®

Insurance Report

I have a part time job at an insurance corporation. I do basic file work and data entry. It is, for the most part, quite boring. It is monotonous.

This morning I found a file in my in-box that I needed to set up, typical stuff. However when I read why it was reported it made my heart skip a little.

A man jumped from his seventh floor apartment. It was filed with my insurance company for "reporting purposes only", Corporate America covering its ass.

It just seems a bit crazy. I'm sure the people who found the man, apparently still gasping for life, are scared and upset, but the manager had to set those feelings aside because a report had to be made.

It seems really messed up to me. We need to report that the dead are dead so corporations can safeguard themselves against grieving family members.

Showin' Nudie Pics at Barnes & Noble

Last Saturday, February 15, Sam, Mel, and I went to Opry Mills to hang out and spend Sam's birthday gift cards. I worked that morning, but it wasn't so bad after I got home because I took a great nap! It didn't matter in the end that I took a nap because I got to the mall first. While I waited I enjoyed a great slice of Godiva, double-chocolate Cheesecake and some coffee from the Starbucks store. It was so GOOD!

I'm munched away, but then wondered where Sam and Mel were. They texted me when they exited, and it had been awhile since. They were looking for a parking spot for 10 minutes, at least. I felt pretty bad because I pulled into a row and grabbed a spot about a second after I got to the mall. It was ridiculous. I listened on the phone while they hunted a spot down and Mel gave this sports play-by-play that kept me amused as they went row by row. They thought they found a spot twice and they were so excited only to be beaten to the spot by someone else and the second time the people were two rows over.

They finally got inside and we shopped around in the bookstore. We had a lot of fun. Sam had all of $3 left on her gift card for B&N. Good luck finding something that cheap! As we strolled through the aisles we came to the music section. They had books about musicians, genres in music, and other related music topics. I grabbed a book about punk music. Sheesh, no sooner than I flipped open the damn book, I land on a page that's got a chick's naughty bits covered in electrical tape. That left sided page is lieing face up on my left hand and the right side is vertical up against my right hand. Sam is looking at the right-sided page. I don't notice it because it's not in my line of sight. We both giggled like teenagers at what we saw and then this 10 year old boy walked by Sam and got all wall-eyed. Whoops! I slammed the book shut, thinking he's only seen what amounts to a chick in a bikini, but no. Sam and I talked about it and she told me there was something far worse on the other page.

I flipped through the pages, trying to find it, I can't, of course, because God hates me. Then Mel strolled up to us, fresh from the Christian Living section I might add, and wanted to know what was up. Sam, ever so delicately, told Mel that I flashed nudie pics at small children. This earned me a slap from Mel, I slapped Sam, and Sam slapped back. I didn't win that one.

I found the infamous page and it was this woman suggestivley leaning over an anatomically-correct cigarette lighter shaped like a man's naughty bits. It was very detailed, not what a young person should see. Guess who strolled by again? The same friggin' ten year old! I didn't feel so guilty, but I don't want parents to chase me down with clubs and torches, a la Frankenstein, and call me a pedophile. Not so much a good day for me.

After that it was uneventful. We walked the mall all the way around, stopped here and there to shop, and finally went home around 8pm. I got a few new shirts, Sam got smelly good stuff, and Mel got a pair of jeans that looked freakin' awesome. A very good day.

What A Girl Would Do For Beer

Saturday night Sam, Lindsey, Jessica and I went to Nashville to have some fun. Originally, Sam and I, wanted to see the Foo Fighters perform, but we couldn't find any seats together and didn't bother. Sam and I wanted to do something so I suggested we go to Nashville anyway and see where the night takes us. We invited Lindsey and Jessica and a great girls night developed. I didn't have to be DD because poor Lindsey had food poisoning (bless whatever crappy food she ate because I'm always DD!) and her meds would not allow alcohol. Our destination was Graham Central Station on Second Avenue... it had a disco like dance floor and the endorsement of the other chickies so I was down for the dancing... after I slammed a few tasty beverages, of course. ;)

Sam and I had a delicious meal with her family then met up with Lindsey and Jessica at her parents house.

An interesting aside... I had an immensely irritating make-up dilemma! I bought some cute eye shadow from Physicians Formula that plays up green eyes. I applied all necessary make-up and finally got to the eye shadow. I decided to use a trio of shades for the evening, one being the bane of existence to me for the evening. It was a very dark, metallic green. After I put it on I just didn't like it. I hated it. The shade was so dark it made me look like I had a black eye especially since I had wiped some little smudges from underneath my eye and it decided to smear into my skin and not come off. I had to resort to washing my face because no other method would do. The makers should use this powder as the base for permanent ink. They would make a freaking fortune...

After I scrubbed my face raw and re-applied my make-up (thanks Sam) we got to the club around 9:30 and as soon as the normal people wearing outer wear (excluding Sam from this because she's a freak o' nature regarding the cold) checked our coats, we went to the dance floor. I made a pit stop, of course. Anyways, there was no one there... well, there was, but it was this "regular" guy who apparently is there all the time and dances like he was "a maniac on the floor" a la Flashdance. We approach the floor in our little girl group and get to two-steppin (IT WAS 80's NIGHT! Thank god!) as typical white females do. Actually, Jessica has her own set of moves and variations that put the rest of us to shame. ACDC comes on and it has about 10 of us on the floor and the first dance off for a free beer is announced. Whoever had the best guitar solo won. I did not win.

Poor Jessica, she had so many guys clamoring for her dancing skills you would have thought she was a "private dancer" (Sorry, but the lyrics thing is what I do, deal). Most of the evening was sequestering her, or the group, from random, gyrating drunks. Lots o' thrills ladies, let me tell ya. After about my 4th vodka tonic (I like it with lemons now for those of you who care to know) I'm feeling the buzz and having a good time cage dancing and going nuts with the girls. Then another dance off is called for Madonna's Like a Virgin. In my brain addled state, and since I just bought another drink, I didn't go out to the floor for this one, but chose to keep a very nice looking table company.

It didn't last long though. NONE of the girls were doing what Madonna did at the VMAs. It was one of the things that got her noticed early in her career! I walk out to the girls and try to scream at them to get on the floor and thrust around. A free six pack was on the line. They wouldn't do it, and if I had had any less to drink I probably wouldn't have either. I slam my drink, drop to my knees, and thrust and gyrate about the floor with all the grace of a girl who's had a few. I won. We got the beers. I was excited. Sam and I had 2 each, but the other girls didn't want them... so I had to pawn the beers off to others. Awkward, but it didn't matter.

After my two beers plus the rest of my drinks, I was fully loaded. I like to think I wasn't sloppy. Sam told me I wasn't bad, so that was good enough for me. I gave her my money and debit card so I wouldn't drink anymore.

By this time Lindsey wanted to go up to the next floor of the club. I was kind of bummed because I spotted what I hoped was a cute guy and then we were leaving, but more on him later. For those of you who don't know, Graham Central Station has two floors for dancing and then the roof. The disco floor was the next story up from the street (the second story) and Lindsey wanted to go to the 3rd which was kind of split into two rooms. A smaller area for Karaoke and in the next area more of a club dance room. This was our destination and it was so crowded I thought I was at a concert. It was a current of winding and ever changing people in a loud and angry gangster rap sea. We made a circle around the room and every time we stopped I danced with whoever was near me, gave some random dude my number (wasn't a good idea, but whatever), and kissed one more on the cheek. We were out of the room in a few minutes and then went to the roof to cool off. It was suffocating in the orgy room (that's what I call it)... it was like breathing in a real hot gust of air from an oven you've been baking sweaty socks in all day. They should make a candle scent.

The roof was great. You could see the river over the rooftops, and despite it being pretty cold that night none of us natural people (remember Sam is the freak o' nature that doesn't count) minded it. The bouncers had set up a blockade of iron patio chairs away from the edge of the roof. A great idea since my dumb butt wanted to look over the edge.

We traveled down the ever-so-perilous-if-you're-drunk stairs back to the disco room where we danced some more and jumped into a cage again to dance. This cage was ever so handy because it was next to the cute guy I saw earlier. He and his friend (brother I found out later) were just standing watching others dance, so I reached out from the cage, tapped him on the head, and told him to get out dancing. I did the same for the bro. When the song was over I hopped through the bars and back to the dance floor making a line for Bosnia Denis (cute guy). Sam thought I was gonna fall, but luckily I wasn't that drunk.

Denis and I danced for awhile then I kissed him on the floor (minty freshness) and suggested we talk. I found Sam and told her what was up, and then explained to him this was not a go-in-the-corner-and-screw-moment, but an honest get-to-know-you thing. He was from Bosnia, 30 years-old, in the army for 2 years, out of a 2 and a half year relationship, and worked in distributing. He and his brother decided to tear it up that night. In the middle of this he asked me why I kissed him. I told him it was because I was drun-. I stopped there because he kissed me again.... I decided it was time to rejoin the girls. Denis-with-one-n and I exchanged numbers. It was getting close to 2AM so we tried for Karaoke before leaving, but by this time I was loosing the liquid courage I had gained and couldn't decide on a song, so we called it an evening.

I was a little hungry and there was a Sbarros across from the club so I darted that way when the others said they were hungry too. I looked both ways for the record. We ate and talked. I told the girls about Bosnia Denis. Then we called it a night. On the way home he called to check up on me. I told him I was on the way home. He asked if he could call me and I told him of course.

Finally!

I watched Death proof and Planet Terror at last! I didn't get to see them in the theater, which was probably a miss out, but I'm glad in a way.

First off, there was no point to Death Proof other than Quentin Tarantino's need to prove how many random film homages he can place in a movie (I think most of them are to himself, so does that count?). Why take money away from Planet Terror, a perfectly awesome zombie gore fest, for something that only Tarantino thinks is a really cool movie. Ugh, a complete and utter waste of film and talent (Kurt Russel and Rosario Dawson). Tarantino does what he wants because he thinks it's cool and probably because he wants to show off his movie trivia knowledge, but he forgets that a movie is more than trivia and camera angles.

Planet Terror... amazing. I'm not saying this because I really like zombie movies or I'm just comparing it to Death Proof (although if you wanted to compare it to Death Proof, Terror would win hands down). The characters were fun and different (Marley Shelton's rapport was great "These are my friends..") and each had their own quirks that made them fun and kick ass. Also a shout out to Freddy Rodriguez and his bad ass "present" to Rose McGowan. I saw the trailer, but him presenting the gun leg to her was priceless. I think what made the film were the characters, by far.

Anywho, I'm babbling on and my dog wants to go outside. Rent and or own Planet Terror, but I would leave Tarantino's obscure film references on the shelf.