In case my smilie-hieroglyphics do not translate: Ask, and ye shall receive.
Three days into '05 and it's already far better than '04. One of my best friends is moving back here, so even if I am stuck here, I'll have more people to share the boredom with.
Oh, and after seeing The Life Aquatic (note to Wes Andersen: never let sight gags replace character development. even if they do include Bill Murray dancing in a wetsuit to Mark Mothersbaugh music.) my phone rang and N. a guy I've vaguely known since high school but chatted up more a few nights back was on the other end. His band was playing at the only semi-cool bar on Hilton Head, and I had today off, so why not go watch them? This boy whose obsession with me in high school was only topped by his obsession with Kurt Cobain (even named his son Kurt) was the drummer and N. plays guitar, harmonica, and sings.
We have drinks, do shots, talk about body piercings and good country music, and end up sitting on a bench outside a bar after everyone else is gone, talking about movies and Joy Division and moving to Nashville.
I offered to help him unload their equipment from his truck since the rest of the band-boys were long gone, and stayed up till 6 AM making out like high schoolers (guess that's a pitfall of knowing people from high school...but it was great).
What I find funniest about the whole situation--well, really there are two things. One, what is the boy who still wants to know why I wouldn't date him in high school going to say when he finds out that I went home with his best friend and bandmate? Obviously doesn't matter, just good for a soap-opera giggle. And, of course, there's me, the girl who wants to print a t-shirt that says "I'm not a groupie, I'm a journalist" going home with the guy from the band.
The fates seem to like me this week. So far, in addition to the boy (who SAID he's going to call...
) I've scored Bruce Springsteen "Born to Run" on vinyl for fifty cents at the thrift store and a pair of green snake shoes for $20 at the Nine West store. Now all I need is a date to wear them on...
****edit. he did call.
Three days into '05 and it's already far better than '04. One of my best friends is moving back here, so even if I am stuck here, I'll have more people to share the boredom with.
Oh, and after seeing The Life Aquatic (note to Wes Andersen: never let sight gags replace character development. even if they do include Bill Murray dancing in a wetsuit to Mark Mothersbaugh music.) my phone rang and N. a guy I've vaguely known since high school but chatted up more a few nights back was on the other end. His band was playing at the only semi-cool bar on Hilton Head, and I had today off, so why not go watch them? This boy whose obsession with me in high school was only topped by his obsession with Kurt Cobain (even named his son Kurt) was the drummer and N. plays guitar, harmonica, and sings.
We have drinks, do shots, talk about body piercings and good country music, and end up sitting on a bench outside a bar after everyone else is gone, talking about movies and Joy Division and moving to Nashville.
I offered to help him unload their equipment from his truck since the rest of the band-boys were long gone, and stayed up till 6 AM making out like high schoolers (guess that's a pitfall of knowing people from high school...but it was great).
What I find funniest about the whole situation--well, really there are two things. One, what is the boy who still wants to know why I wouldn't date him in high school going to say when he finds out that I went home with his best friend and bandmate? Obviously doesn't matter, just good for a soap-opera giggle. And, of course, there's me, the girl who wants to print a t-shirt that says "I'm not a groupie, I'm a journalist" going home with the guy from the band.

The fates seem to like me this week. So far, in addition to the boy (who SAID he's going to call...

****edit. he did call.

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When are you c oming to Philly again, dearest?