Kings of Leon played to a sold out Madison Square Garden last night. Of course I was there silly! Even though I sat in the nosebleed section, the magnitude of the performance was not lost on me. Very rarely you get to go to a show where you know a band is on the verge of something epic. You've been following the band for years because you know they have the talent, but then there's that one night when they reach new heights. And all of their loyal fans are there to watch it, including you! Well that was last night.
For those of you who haven't heard, KOL plays a phenomenal live show. It's a sweaty, grimy, soulful kind of rock concert. Caleb Followill's voice is far better live than on any record. It's one of those raw, gutteral voices that makes you feel the lyrics are truly genuine. (Did someone break your heart, sweet Caleb? I know many ways I can console you.) All of the Followill boys possess a talent we fans can only dream of. Oh, and just when you were getting sick to your stomach with the ridiculous talent you find out they're humble as well. I don't know what the capacity is at MSG, but the boys seemed truly touched to hear the entire crowd singing along to "Use Somebody". They played a straight set with no intermission, but that wasn't enough for the fans. When the band walked off stage the crowd refused to leave. After what seemed like an eternity they came back out and finished the show like no other band could. Followill graciously thanked fans for being supportive through the years and "getting on their little websites" to spread the word. You're very welcome boys.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
How 'bout a slice of humble pie?
So I've been on Match.com almost 2 weeks now. I hoped that by now I'd be swimming in a sea of eligible bachelors, but realistically I knew I'd have to weed through a bunch of tools. Here's the thing that I didn't actually think of: MAYBE SOME OF THESE GUYS WILL THINK I'M THE TOOL.
Let me back up a minute and explain the rules of match. Basically there are 2 ways to let someone know that you're interested in them. You can "wink" at them or you can email them. Or both. And you can see all the people that look at your profile, whether they choose to communicate with you or not. So almost 2 weeks in and I have recieved 31 winks and countless emails. Not to shabby, eh? Well... most of them have been idiots. Like when I say I'm only interested in people in my age range within a 20 mile radius of NYC and I get an email from a 45 year old in Ohio. So I've sent zero return winks and only responded to one email. I had no interest in the guy, but his message was funny so I felt compelled to let him know.
I don't think that I'm being overly-selective either. None of these guys really seem like the kind of person I'd like to get to know, romantically or otherwise. Plus I'm new to the whole online-dating thing, and I don't necessarily feel like rushing in to meeting some complete stranger in a strange place. Unfortunately I think that my Match Karma has come back to bite me in the ass. While scrolling through people's profiles (I'm still on a mission to revise my profile to make it sound more like me and less like a robot) I happened to stumble on an incredibly handsome and seemingly sweet man. Perfect age range and very geographically desirable. I totally panicked. "What do I do? Do I wink at him? That seems strange and stalkerish. But an email may be too forward". Before I knew what I was doing I winked at him. It felt strangely empowering. My first online flirtation. In my mind I already started to fast-forward to what kind of witty email I'd send when he wrote back. Then I started planning our first date, which would obviously be amazing. There would be no awkward moments, and maybe we'd spend late nights on the phone... and then who knows!
This all happened last night, so I was anxious to check my account today for his inevitable email. NO EMAIL. NO WINK.
Now follow my thought pattern through the rest of the day: "Well obviously he hasn't checked his email yet and realized I winked at him". Later this afternoon I scrolled through the people who've viewed my profile and there he was. "Wait a minute... so that means he did get my wink. And he chose not to write back to me. Holy crap. You mean people just go around ignoring a nice girl's winks? I realize that I ignored 31 winks, but how could this happen to me? Is my profile not compelling enough? Do I need more pictures?" You get my drift. Complete and utter rejection. I couldn't believe it. But that's karma for you. Maybe now I will be a little less snobbish and respond to some of these gentlemen's winks/emails. I'm still not gonna respond to creepy 40-yr olds, but maybe I'll try to be a little nicer.
Let me back up a minute and explain the rules of match. Basically there are 2 ways to let someone know that you're interested in them. You can "wink" at them or you can email them. Or both. And you can see all the people that look at your profile, whether they choose to communicate with you or not. So almost 2 weeks in and I have recieved 31 winks and countless emails. Not to shabby, eh? Well... most of them have been idiots. Like when I say I'm only interested in people in my age range within a 20 mile radius of NYC and I get an email from a 45 year old in Ohio. So I've sent zero return winks and only responded to one email. I had no interest in the guy, but his message was funny so I felt compelled to let him know.
I don't think that I'm being overly-selective either. None of these guys really seem like the kind of person I'd like to get to know, romantically or otherwise. Plus I'm new to the whole online-dating thing, and I don't necessarily feel like rushing in to meeting some complete stranger in a strange place. Unfortunately I think that my Match Karma has come back to bite me in the ass. While scrolling through people's profiles (I'm still on a mission to revise my profile to make it sound more like me and less like a robot) I happened to stumble on an incredibly handsome and seemingly sweet man. Perfect age range and very geographically desirable. I totally panicked. "What do I do? Do I wink at him? That seems strange and stalkerish. But an email may be too forward". Before I knew what I was doing I winked at him. It felt strangely empowering. My first online flirtation. In my mind I already started to fast-forward to what kind of witty email I'd send when he wrote back. Then I started planning our first date, which would obviously be amazing. There would be no awkward moments, and maybe we'd spend late nights on the phone... and then who knows!
This all happened last night, so I was anxious to check my account today for his inevitable email. NO EMAIL. NO WINK.
Now follow my thought pattern through the rest of the day: "Well obviously he hasn't checked his email yet and realized I winked at him". Later this afternoon I scrolled through the people who've viewed my profile and there he was. "Wait a minute... so that means he did get my wink. And he chose not to write back to me. Holy crap. You mean people just go around ignoring a nice girl's winks? I realize that I ignored 31 winks, but how could this happen to me? Is my profile not compelling enough? Do I need more pictures?" You get my drift. Complete and utter rejection. I couldn't believe it. But that's karma for you. Maybe now I will be a little less snobbish and respond to some of these gentlemen's winks/emails. I'm still not gonna respond to creepy 40-yr olds, but maybe I'll try to be a little nicer.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
My Match.com Experience
So in honor of a new year and a freshly-broken heart, I've decided to go on Match.com and, obviously, to blog about my experiences. I've always been a little wary of online dating sites/speed dating/that kind of thing, but since I haven't felt compelled to write about anything in the past 6 months I figured I'd give it a shot. I'm not knocking the online dating scene, I've just never had a problem meeting people due to my naturally bubbly nature. However, meeting people and actually making an effort to date are two different things. After having my heart broken I realized I have absolutely ZERO clue what I'm doing in the dating world. It's a world of game-playing that I'm definitely not used to (and I don't like any game that I don't win, thank you). I don't understand the concept of actually thinking before speaking. I figure this will be good practice. I'm going to write about EVERY SINGLE date I go on. Hilarity will certainly ensue.
I signed up for a 3-month subscription to the service on Friday and filled out my profile. The hardest part is filling out your profile. Believe it or not, I find it hard to talk about myself that way. Telling people what you're looking for in a mate is just strange. Especially when it's online for the world to see. Oh, and there's the fact that I have no clue what I want. That doesn't help. After several revisions, I still wasn't sure if my online suitors would know exactly how awesome I am. But for fear of going blind from staring at the computer for too long, I logged off and went away for the weekend.
Upon my return today I was rather pleased to see I had 4 emails and 10 virtual winks. Not a single one was cute, but it was still nice for the ego. I'm not alarmed at all because I have several friends who have met their boyfriends or husbands on Match, and they already warned me that you have to weed through the frogs to find the princes.
HERE GOES NOTHING!
I signed up for a 3-month subscription to the service on Friday and filled out my profile. The hardest part is filling out your profile. Believe it or not, I find it hard to talk about myself that way. Telling people what you're looking for in a mate is just strange. Especially when it's online for the world to see. Oh, and there's the fact that I have no clue what I want. That doesn't help. After several revisions, I still wasn't sure if my online suitors would know exactly how awesome I am. But for fear of going blind from staring at the computer for too long, I logged off and went away for the weekend.
Upon my return today I was rather pleased to see I had 4 emails and 10 virtual winks. Not a single one was cute, but it was still nice for the ego. I'm not alarmed at all because I have several friends who have met their boyfriends or husbands on Match, and they already warned me that you have to weed through the frogs to find the princes.
HERE GOES NOTHING!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Lollapalooza 2008
Here’s my official recap of Lollapalooza 2008:
Friday:
We get there and Chicago-friend tells Jen and I “here’s your key, come and go as you please”. Immediately he knew he would live to regret that, but I digress.
First stop at Lolla: beer tent. Beer dude tells me beers are only $5 so I order 6 of them. don’t judge me, it was for 3 people.
Go to raconteurs concert.
Grab 6 more beers.
Go to radiohead concert.
Radiohead blows, head back to beer tent.
4 more beers (we lost Chicago somewhere. Oh well, I have his key. Sucker)
Please keep in mind that there has been no eating thus far. And it's still oppressively hot outside, even at 10:00 pm.
Head back to condo. Chicago makes blackout drink. Jen and I do interpretive dance. I obtain some sort of floor burn.
Saturday:
I Feel like death. Make breakfast. Go to concerts. Discover some awesome new bands during the day, including InnerPartySystem. Look them up. Back to condo for power nap. Back to Lollapalooza.
Drinking begins.
Lupe fiasco was awesome.
I leave Jen to use bathroom/get beers. I wait on line for bathroom for what seems like eternity. I make friends with cute boys on line for the bathroom.
I make bathroom line into a competition. (For those of you who don't know already, I like to win every competition, no matter how stupid). You have 12 seconds or less to get out of the bathroom. New friends ask if I’m drunk. I was only on my first drink. Idiots. Bathroom relay begins.
No time to get to beer tent because Rage against the Machine is about to go on. Holy sh*t! I can’t find Jen.
Spend next 2 hours singing/dancing my butt off without Jen.
Concert ends, find Jen in one piece. Back to apartment to change into going-out clothes and grab a roadie.
Go to alleged “nice club” in Chicago. Walk in to “VIP” room. Um, it was a kitchen. Tell the entire staff that Chicago is a sub-par city and in NY the VIP areas are not relegated to the slop kitchen. Promptly leave club.
Walk up to bar where they’re “not letting people in because there is an MTV camera crew (lies)”. Tell bouncers in no uncertain terms that I would like to go inside and get my drink on. They let me in. Big mistake.
The rest of the night is a blur, but ended with me dancing like a mad-woman and getting locked out of friend’s apartment. Sleep in hallway until jen wakes up from her coma to let me in. probably slept a total of 2-3 hours.
Sunday:
Since jen slept in a bed, rather than a hallway, she’s all ready to go to Lolla. Want to kill myself.
Go to concert. Have fantasies about lead singer of Nine Inch Nails fathering my children. Seriously, that guy is hot AND a musical genius.
Monday:
Become very sad that my trip is over.
Friday:
We get there and Chicago-friend tells Jen and I “here’s your key, come and go as you please”. Immediately he knew he would live to regret that, but I digress.
First stop at Lolla: beer tent. Beer dude tells me beers are only $5 so I order 6 of them. don’t judge me, it was for 3 people.
Go to raconteurs concert.
Grab 6 more beers.
Go to radiohead concert.
Radiohead blows, head back to beer tent.
4 more beers (we lost Chicago somewhere. Oh well, I have his key. Sucker)
Please keep in mind that there has been no eating thus far. And it's still oppressively hot outside, even at 10:00 pm.
Head back to condo. Chicago makes blackout drink. Jen and I do interpretive dance. I obtain some sort of floor burn.
Saturday:
I Feel like death. Make breakfast. Go to concerts. Discover some awesome new bands during the day, including InnerPartySystem. Look them up. Back to condo for power nap. Back to Lollapalooza.
Drinking begins.
Lupe fiasco was awesome.
I leave Jen to use bathroom/get beers. I wait on line for bathroom for what seems like eternity. I make friends with cute boys on line for the bathroom.
I make bathroom line into a competition. (For those of you who don't know already, I like to win every competition, no matter how stupid). You have 12 seconds or less to get out of the bathroom. New friends ask if I’m drunk. I was only on my first drink. Idiots. Bathroom relay begins.
No time to get to beer tent because Rage against the Machine is about to go on. Holy sh*t! I can’t find Jen.
Spend next 2 hours singing/dancing my butt off without Jen.
Concert ends, find Jen in one piece. Back to apartment to change into going-out clothes and grab a roadie.
Go to alleged “nice club” in Chicago. Walk in to “VIP” room. Um, it was a kitchen. Tell the entire staff that Chicago is a sub-par city and in NY the VIP areas are not relegated to the slop kitchen. Promptly leave club.
Walk up to bar where they’re “not letting people in because there is an MTV camera crew (lies)”. Tell bouncers in no uncertain terms that I would like to go inside and get my drink on. They let me in. Big mistake.
The rest of the night is a blur, but ended with me dancing like a mad-woman and getting locked out of friend’s apartment. Sleep in hallway until jen wakes up from her coma to let me in. probably slept a total of 2-3 hours.
Sunday:
Since jen slept in a bed, rather than a hallway, she’s all ready to go to Lolla. Want to kill myself.
Go to concert. Have fantasies about lead singer of Nine Inch Nails fathering my children. Seriously, that guy is hot AND a musical genius.
Monday:
Become very sad that my trip is over.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
RIP Snitch
I just got the most devastating news. My favorite rock 'n roll bar in NYC is closing Saturday, May 3rd. In memory of Snitch, I wrote a little thank you letter that I'd like to share.
Dearest Snitch,
My heart is breaking that you're closing, but I'll never forget the memories we've shared. Remember our first time together? I let that guy Jon feel my boobs because I thought he was gay. Too bad he was just a raging pervert. And then that random girl we were with started puking at the bar. What a night!
I want to thank you for all the life lessons I have learned with you. Remember the first time I heard "crazy bitch" by buckcherry and loved it so much that it actually made me want to be a stripper? Then when "pour some sugar on me" came on I danced on the couches until the heel of my favorite black boots broke, and then realized that the exotic dance profession might not be for me. Thank you for teaching me...
Remember when my brother was home from L.A. for Christmas and I introduced him to you? We played air guitar all night and nobody judged us. You were always so accepting of me. Thank you for accepting my brother with open arms.
Most of all, thank you for accepting me in a t-shirt and chuck taylors. I've never felt more beautiful than when I was with you at 2 a.m. on a friday, bombed with makeup running down my face.
I will miss you, but I'll never forget you.
Love,
Lisa
Dearest Snitch,
My heart is breaking that you're closing, but I'll never forget the memories we've shared. Remember our first time together? I let that guy Jon feel my boobs because I thought he was gay. Too bad he was just a raging pervert. And then that random girl we were with started puking at the bar. What a night!
I want to thank you for all the life lessons I have learned with you. Remember the first time I heard "crazy bitch" by buckcherry and loved it so much that it actually made me want to be a stripper? Then when "pour some sugar on me" came on I danced on the couches until the heel of my favorite black boots broke, and then realized that the exotic dance profession might not be for me. Thank you for teaching me...
Remember when my brother was home from L.A. for Christmas and I introduced him to you? We played air guitar all night and nobody judged us. You were always so accepting of me. Thank you for accepting my brother with open arms.
Most of all, thank you for accepting me in a t-shirt and chuck taylors. I've never felt more beautiful than when I was with you at 2 a.m. on a friday, bombed with makeup running down my face.
I will miss you, but I'll never forget you.
Love,
Lisa
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Is Romance Really Dead?
Romantics are a dying breed. I, being the hopeless romantic that I am, would like to think that people growing up in the 21st century have a shot in hell of finding true love. But for obvious reasons, I’m growing doubtful. I mean, how’s a girl my age supposed to find someone without calling up VH1 and asking for my own reality show? Last night I was sitting on a bar stool minding my own business (I'm still on crutches, if I wasn't I would have been in a dance-off obviously) when a guy said something to me that really got under my skin. He was actually complaining that women aren't into romance anymore! He told me his woeful tale of trying to win a girl's heart not by trying to get her drunk and hook up, but by being sweet and sincere. Naturally I thought the story would have a happy ending, but this unfortunate gentlemen was promptly dumped. VIA TEXT MESSAGE. My first thought? To tackle him to the ground and kiss him. But I'm a lady after all, so I kept my composure. My second thought was that maybe technology is affecting the way men and women court each other these days. I can't remember the last time I gave a guy my number and he actually called. Everybody texts or emails first. Don't get me wrong, I love texting. But I think the texting should supplement the calling, not replace it. But you're not even allowed to call people anymore unless you follow the 2 day rule. And then when you call you have to act aloof. ALOOF? Come on! You're obviously calling the person because you want to go on a date with them (or at least get a drink and french in a dark corner somewhere).
Anyways, the moral of the story is that if you're having delusions of meeting a guy/girl who will call you the next day and actually tell you they like you: DON'T HOLD YOUR BREATH. More than likely you will get an email 2 weeks after you meet them letting you know that they'd like to see you again, but could care less if they don't. If you're really lucky, you'll get a mass text with their location on Friday night. If you're given this little glimmer of hope, take it and run with it. Don't hold out for your fantasy lover who is going to woo you. Go meet this person out on Friday, french the hell out of them, and live happily ever after. Just don't forget to act aloof.
Anyways, the moral of the story is that if you're having delusions of meeting a guy/girl who will call you the next day and actually tell you they like you: DON'T HOLD YOUR BREATH. More than likely you will get an email 2 weeks after you meet them letting you know that they'd like to see you again, but could care less if they don't. If you're really lucky, you'll get a mass text with their location on Friday night. If you're given this little glimmer of hope, take it and run with it. Don't hold out for your fantasy lover who is going to woo you. Go meet this person out on Friday, french the hell out of them, and live happily ever after. Just don't forget to act aloof.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
The bright side of disaster
THE BRIGHT SIDE OF DISASTER, by Katherine Center was anything but disastrous. This book was fun, but not in a corny "chick lit" sort of way. The author's sense of humor keeps the story from getting too mushy, while still managing to make it a feel-good book.
The book's central character, Jenny, is so busy being 9 months pregnant that she doesn't realize her fiance is getting distant. Her fiance runs out on her, leaving her with a baby on the way, a mortgage, and her insecurity to worry about. Fortunately, the day after he leaves she gives birth and she no longer has the time to worry about why he left or where he ran off to.
Instead of becoming the sullen ex-girlfriend, Jenny tackles motherhood head on... after all, what choice does she have? Her newborn girl can't take care of herself! Jenny is drowning in a sea of diapers, breast pumps, and car seats when her idiot ex comes crawling back. In a very non-cliched way, our heroine comes out on top, while the author keeps us laughing the entire time.
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