Friday, January 2, 2009

Devotchka NYE

(my dates for the evening)

Ahhh New Years…the time when you reflect on the past year’s pitfalls like broken cars, broken relationships and uphill battles. The time when you reflect on the past year’s good like your beautiful surroundings, good friends, loved ones and the promise of new hope and a chance at fulfilling love. The big night when you wish you had someone special to share it with. Alas, I found myself single again, although this time, I didn’t have the flu with a wicked fever and the added kick you while I’m down factor of being at a wedding(no offense Tim). I did however have the support of some good friends (Brian/Lizzy, Kyle/Trish and Anna), an awesome band and a cute outfit that showed off my strong shoulders and apparently sexy clavicles. Oh oh, there was even a new acquaintance to the group that hung with us that told me this:

“You don’t look like somewhat who writes the way you do; you look classy”
Me=classy?…I have fooled the world MUAHAHAHAHHAAH

There was a DJ and an opening act but what I remember of both is this:
DJ: I’m bored; I think I’ll grab a PBR. Holy fuck, for serious, you’re gonna charge me $4 for a beer that is worth a $1.50?!! Bastards. Yeah, I’m not huge on live DJ stuff…oh look it that, a dude spinning some records. YAWN
Opening band: I was so impressed that their name is embedded into my soft grey Cerebral Cortex…not so much. They weren’t bad or untalented, I was just preoccupied with the night’s earlier bummer events and I was on a crash course with booze and a determination of fun. I can say two nice things about this band: A. chick drummers rule B. the singer wore a wicked vintage blood red cowboy shirt with black accents and roses (fashion is my secret little drug). They really did have some good stuff though, but alas, sorry the name escapes me.

In all honesty, I was there for Devotchka and anything else was just filler. So as mentioned earlier…crash course with booze.
Me+booze+no eating since noon that day=obnoxious

While I was enjoying my refreshing classy grade A quality PBR, I enjoyed a chills inducing shot of Whiskey with Brian…cough, pirate squinty face, hairs standing on end, ‘oh my god what was I thinking?!’…smooth. Blarg. Let the good times roll and while I’m at it, may I introduce…asshole Mel! I was determined to have a good time, so out rolled the dirty jokes, pirate talk, insults and my wacky self; anything to entertain my friends(some would say, the need of adoration of loved ones to fulfill one’s self)
Me=NOT classy

When Devotckha took the stage, I was a little disappointed in the lack of back up strings, like at the Sodo show earlier this year. I guess they raised the bar for me early on. They’re still an energy filled rocking show, but I guess I was expecting them to pull all the punches with a full supporting band, little chicas whirling and twirling from the ceiling and some rockets or some shit; it being NYE and all. The sound wasn’t all that great this time around either. I have a love hate relationship with the Showbox Market. On the one hand they book some great acts and have an awesome venue, where you’ve got good views from all angles with its intimacy. On the other hand, their sound is hit or miss; this night, it was kind of a miss. Nonetheless, the show still rocked and they played an impressive song list. I danced a lot, so much so that I got a side cramp (I need to get back to the gym) and managed to stay vertical in my heels with minimal grabbing of friends for support.

(it's just not a post unless I have a shitty cell phone attack shot)

By the end of the show I managed to ingest 1 PBR, 1 shot of Whiskey, ¾ cup of ESB and ¾ of my vodka drink; not a great deal, but enough with no food. I forget that I can’t drink like I used to and thus was securely tipsy. While in line for my coat pick up with my buddy, I took off my heel and threatened a line cutter. Something along these lines:
“Hey fratty fat popped collar fuck face, my heel is going in your eye if you don’t get in the back of the line” yeah…

By 2ish in the am, with several failed attempts at finding a fast food joint to fill our boozed bellies, we settled on a wiener stand in Fremont. A mere 14 hours later, my stomach was finally filled with a boar’s dog, topped with grilled onion, mustard and cream cheese (you can only love it while drunk) and I passed out snug in my bed to end my shitty day and leave my shitty struggling year behind me.

Here’s to new hopes, new adventures, finally having no car payment, a new chest piece tattoo and my new motto… “Love like you’ve never been hurt”

Bring it.

Me=ready for it all

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