Raddest Weekend Ever

Do you ever have a day or weekend that is just so freaking perfect it puts you on a natural high for days? My weekend was like that. Here's a run down:

Saturday Day: Step-mom's B-day

Saturday was my step-mom's 50th birthday, so my dad went all out on the planning. He rented a white limo and had my two step-sisters, two of my step-mom's friends, and me meet up in the parking lot of the restaurant we would be having dinner at. We all hopped into the limo, poured some champagne and surprised my step-mom at her house. From there all the girls went to lunch at an amazing mexican restaurant right on the coast with gorgeous ocean views and some free flowing pitchers of margaritas. From there we went shopping, which ended up kind of boring for me because I'm brizoke as a joke and we were in Bloomingdales. I couldn't afford anything even with the giant sale they had going. I made good friends with a comfy chair.

We then headed back down to the restaurant for dinner, which was amazing for everyone but me. Amazing because my dad had set up a private dinner in the kitchen of a very delicious restaurant, where the chef cooks in front of you, describes what he's doing, passes around things to taste while he's cooking and creates a four course meal. The whole experience was awesome.

The menu, on the other hand ... everyone who knows me knows that I am a pretty picky eater. I try not to be and I DO try new things, but once I decide that I don't like a food, I don't like it. A few of these big dislikes are: onions, tomatoes, bleu cheese, fish, and bananas. I know, it's a random assortment, but I have an unflinching hate for all of these foods. Now, here's the menu:

1st Course: layers of roasted eggplant, brie, and tomatoes with mixed greens (I had never really eaten eggplant before and it was pretty decent, but not a favorite)
2nd Course: mixed greens, red onion, candied walnuts, cucumbers, and bleu cheese in a vinaigrette (after picking out the onion, cucumbers and bleu cheese this was really good)
3rd Course: grilled halibut with honey mustard glaze, couscous, roasted asparagus and grilled zucchini tossed in garlic butter (I HATE fish, but I did eat the parts that had honey mustard glaze on it - I'm actually really proud of myself for that)
4th Course: bananas foster (I just at the ice cream and the delicious sugary glaze)

It was really just funny by the end. I made no comments and ate some of everything because it really did look delicious, but I was cracking up with each additional course.

Saturday Night: The Antiques
I'm not really sure how to describe my affiliation with this band anymore. Yea, I still do some work for the label and volunteering to work with them was how I met everyone, but everyone feels like genuine friends now. Not BFF friends, we don't get to hang out that often since everyone is pretty scattered, but friends I sincerely enjoy hanging out with. Yet, because of how I met them, I feel kind of obnoxious if I refer to it as a "friend's band", but I'm going to do it anyway.

So, that was a long way of saying that my friend's band was playing an album release show on Saturday night. They played the entire new album from beginning to end and, like usual if you stick around late enough, they broke into an awesome drunken encore. It was just a really great night of hanging out with some hilarious people and listening to some good music.

Sunday Night: John Mayer
Sunday day was pretty mellow - just went to Barnes and Noble, grabbed a hot chocolate and read a magazine (it's like the library, but more updated and with coffee!)

Sunday NIGHT, however, was The Awesome. John Mayer playing at Irvine Meadows (I refuse to call it Verizon Wireless, because that doesn't describe the venue at all). All 2 people who read this blog know how much I geek out on John Mayer, so I'm not going to hide it. I got a pretty good last minute ticket off of a girl on a Mayer messageboard for way under face value, since she was trying to get rid of it and it was just a single seat. First row of Loge. I'll take it.

I don't care what you say about Mayer's singles or his personal life, but the man can put on an INSANE live show and he definitely brought it out last night. There had been complaints earlier in the tour of short sets, but he took this one all the way to the 11pm Meadow's curfew, and possibly a few minutes beyond it depending on the watch. 18 songs, including TWO encores (which he never does. I was on my way out feeling comfortable in the knowledge that I had never heard of him doing a second encore when I realized that the cheering closer to the stage was getting louder instead of dying down and, sure enough, he had come back out for a second encore) AND a brand new song (which he also rarely does nowadays since he has an open taping policy, but dislikes that people's make judgments on a song based on first impressions of something not fully fleshed out ... or something like that. I'm not going to give you the whole quote even though I know it).

I'm still on a high from the show. I think live music can be addicting - I get such a rush from a good live show.

I wish every weekend could be as good as this one.

Good Hurt

Do you ever have music hit you - like really hit you; when it feels like the song has managed to reach into your chest and pull your heart right out, not just tugging heartstrings, but completely breaking them, the force of the snap echoing through your limbs, and there it is thumping in front of you to the beat, all exposed and aching, but a good ache, a deep ache you can feel through your body all the way to your toes, and you don't want that feeling to end no matter how much it hurts, so you play the song on repeat, but then you have to take a break from it - maybe for an hour, a few days, a month - depending how just how deep it makes you ache, but you always go back to it, you just can't use it all the time or the ache fades and it's such a fucking good ache you can't bear to let it fade, so you ration yourself in order to guarantee that if you play that song the ache appears.

I love that.

Currently Obsessed - Ha Ha Tonka

I stumbled across these guys on MySpace and I keep heading back to their page to listen to the four songs they have up. I haven't bought a CD in awhile, but I'm definitely snagging theirs.

Check out the video for my favorite song of the four:

Same But Different

My ex boyfriend was in town this weekend. He moved out of state for his job about a year and a half ago, but I haven't seen him in about four years.

So much changes, yet so much stays ridiculously the same.

Other than the "so what have you been doing for the last however long it's been?", it was all very familiar. Too familiar.

I had grown comfortable with someone not being there and then BAM - someone's there again without the messiness and trial and error of learning a new someone. Except now he's in my headspace again and I worked freakin' hard to get him out of there - not an easy task considering he's an editor of a prominent magazine that my dad happens to subscribe to and has laying all over his house.

After dinner we just kind of hung out and cuddled while watching a movie. During that time we communicated more and were more open then we ever were when dating. He's several years older and we started dating when I was 19 - most of the the relationship seemed to have been a battle of who could care less - a battle I constantly lost. Things were said that should have been said a long time ago. It may be after the fact, but it's nice to know I was and have been in his head as much as he's been in mine. Now there's nothing left but a comfortable affection.

I realized that the set up I have with my pillows is just a poor man's attempt to get back there - to that comfiness and closeness.

When he left I said "see you in another four years." He protested and insisted that it won't be that long. It won't ... it will probably be longer.

Oh, and I drove a brand new Porsche 911 GT2. So I have that going for me.

Edited to add:

1) a whole bunch of extra stuff up there.
2) I originally posted this with about 1/3 of what's written above. I mentioned to a friend that I was debating posting something even that personal, but upon a re-read after publishing I realized it was hardly personal or intimate at all. I realized that my entire adult life, like I mentioned above in reference to my relationship, has been a battle of who could care less out some kind of an attempt to save my ego - a battle that I've generally won. Well, fuck that. This shit's getting more personal. You still may think that what's up there isn't that revealing, but I'm pretty uncomfortable posting it, so it's a hell of a lot more personal that my usual M.O. We'll see - I may jump back over my wall, but since blogging is apparently the new (free) therapist, I'll work at it.

"New" Music

I have a 30 GB iPod that's completely full of music. I don't have photographs, TV shows, anything on there other than music.

In the grand scheme of things, that's not a huge amount of music, but I have a bunch of stuff on there that I have never heard. I have probably not listened to about 1/4 of what's stored on there.

So every once in awhile I put my little white bundle of awesome on shuffle and discover some "new" music.

So far today I've found a great David Grey song, a just okay Until June song, rediscovered an unreleased song from one of my favorite artists from back before he was even marginally known, and fell in love with a Damien Rice song I had only cursorily listened to before.

In fact, I think now I'm going to go listen to DR's whole 9 album ...

UPDATE: I love the song so much, I hunted it down on YouTube to share it. Enjoy:

Damien Rice - Elephant

The Little Men In My Head Take Lots of Breaks

I was in the grocery store a couple days ago in the self check out line (which my introverted self LOVES because I don't have to interact with random people or give them an idea of what's going on in my life when I, say, buy chocolate cake and tampons). I was scanning and bagging my items efficiently until I came to a small bag on the bottom of my basket.

It was a fresh produce bag filled with about 10 small, round, green vegetables that I could not think of the name of for the life of me. I must have stared at these little bundles of deliciousness for a full minute, meanwhile scanning and bagging the rest of my groceries.

Finally it came down to just those little green things. I placed them on the scanner, scrolled through a menu of vegetables hoping to jog my memory, but nothing came. Finally I just rung them up as broccoli, hoping the price was similar, tossed them in a grocery bag, paid and left.

Two feet out of the door: BRUSSEL SPROUTS!

Damn, my memory is awful sometimes.

An Open Letter to a Douchebag

Dear Douchebag:

Yesterday when I walked into our small apartment community gym and saw you sitting on one of the weight machines, the first thing I noticed was the large and prominent Bluetooth headset sticking out of your ear. I shrugged it off thinking "no way is this guy a big enough douchebag to actually use that thing in the small gym."

I, of course, woefully underestimated your douche level.

Two minutes into my workout you answered a call on your phone, quit your workout and sat on one of the machines, talking and laughing so loudly I could hear you very clearly over my IN EAR iPod headphones that were turned up as high as I could bear. Your loud, forcibly drawn out guffaws made it impossible for me to concentrate and ruined my rhythm and workout.

I waited for your phone call to end, stopped my workout and confronted you. Maybe you remember this exchange:

Me: "Could you please not talk on your phone in here? You're really loud and it's rude."
You: "I get phone calls all the time. I can't help it, it's what I do, you know. People are always calling me."
Me: "Next time someone calls please take it outside. You're really loud and rude."
You: "I can't help it. I get a lot of phone calls."
Me: "Then workout somewhere else! If you're living here I doubt you're important enough to need to take phone calls while you're in here."

It seems by some miracle you managed to not get a phone call for the next 20 minutes, but you DID grunt like you were birthing a baby on that weight machine and consistently let the weights slam down.

Next time I see you in the gym I will speak to management and have them ban the use of cell phones in the gym. Don't think I'm even remotely kidding.

I hate you,

Jen