esme

Things are nice these days, with the moving and the doing. On Thurday I went to Popscene with some of my favorite people, and whie the event itself sort of rubbed me the wrong way, it was very good to see them. On Friday I reset one of my Targets and got as close to a reaming as is possible from my incredibly kind, generous, understanding boss (which is to say, I didn't, despite the fact that I could be doing a lot of things a lot better). Friday night I went on something that resembles a stereotypical "date" more than anything I've ever been on in my life...save for the making out in the front seat, or even the kiss goodnight. We shook hands, it was great. But yeah, random internet boy totally picked me up at my house, took me out for hole-in-the-wall Indian, brought me to the concet, bought me a beer even though I didn't ask and later found out he doesn't drink. Then he took me home. The show, incidentally, rocked my pants off and I probably would not have regretted buying a $75 scalped ticket, but I couldn't be sure, you know? I really want to get into Dizzee Rascal now; Lady Soveriegn was cute but didn't blow me away; and The Streets, well of course they rule, but we'd been talking, the "date" and I, about how the first album was so important to both of us, that the second album is pretty good, and that we only bought the third, most recent, reason for the tour one, a couple days ago and weren't really that impressed. But they totally played like, the majority of the first album, and maybe all of five songs between the other two. w00t. I guess they know what their audience wants. When they did the opener from the first album (which I've always thought was a really odd first song, because it has this huuuuuuge crazy climax, but I guess the idea it that we're leaving the life/part of life that we know and entering this new world, and that sets the stage for us to accept that everything has totally changed) I thought I was going to die. I think if I'd been on pills (which I haven't done in years, and did most during the time in my life when I was listening to that album nonstop) I woulda died; it's just one of those songs that builds up the intensity until you can't take it any further and then you just don't let it go for what feels like minutes on end. Mmmmm. (Orgasm, anyone?)
Anyway, Saturday I worked a job in Oakland and then came home and pA and I went to Samover, which I am now officially in love with, although I can't see myself spending $7 on a cuppa tea on a terribly regular basis. pA fell harder in love with me there. That is always nice. On Sunday we went down to SJ with Noelani and Yonderboy and talked about why we get pierced but didn't actually get pierced. It got me thinking for the next day or so though...what is my attraction? Has it changed over the years? I know that from about 14 to 17 I thought my life would be complete if I had a navel ring, which I never got, thank god, because I have the beautifullest belly in the world and a scar would be sad. Everywhere else I can have scars, and do. I guess on the most basic level I am asserting my individuality, even if that individuality overlaps with a certain segement of the population, since it is a segment that, on the whole, I identify with more closely than I do with just people. Then we drank vodka and played with the rats and they told us about Burning Man.
Oh, and at some point we watched 3/5 of the final season of Six Feet Under. Fucking intense, man.

Today, to work.