Adventures in Gothland, Volume 47.

Yesterday Dave was helping the Other Dave move, so I was on pseudo-mommy duty all day. The kids were completely well behaved for me, and I got a massive amount of stuff done as a result. I did 6 loads of laundry, packed about 10 boxes, posted some stuff on Craigslist for sale (Oh how I need the money too... augh), bought my mom flowers and met her over at BJ's for her birthday lunch, and generally ran around like a chicken with my head cut off.

When Dave got home around 6 I was pretty much shell shocked and wanted to lie down and go into a sleep coma for about a week. Dave and the kids hung out til like 7:45 so no time for a nap before the Sexy Cheese and I were to tear up a dance floor at Lola's for Hive - the Gothy night we are so fond of.

There was no cover, which made the $7.50 I had to pay for ONE drink (yeah, it wasn't cheap booze but whatever) a little less painful. Got there and there were a bunch of the hippies from whatever patchouli laced show upstairs at the crystal were hanging out. We knew within 1/2 hour of pounding industrial music that they would bail, and we were right. The bad news is the best music was played during the first 1/2 hour, and I always have to acclimate to the club before I can just get a groove on. Unless I'm drinking heavily, which in that case means I pound two vodka granades and its on. That wasn't happening, so yeah...

First amusing scenario: remember the guys that wanted me to join their band that sounded like Lydia Lunch? Yeah... they were there. Brie was drunk the night this happened and she was amused to finally figure out who that was, since that happened back in like, July and she wasn't sure.

Second amusing scenario: Gothic Bellydancers. This was the most boring, pathetic waste of 1/2 hour I'd ever seen. You would think Gothic Bellydancing would be cool. But I'm sorry - seeing a chubby chick with green hair dry fuck another chick with 47 tattoos to really slow, make you want to slit your wrists goth music just wasn't entertaining. It was like a really really bad soft porno, and I wasn't beyond vocalizing this either. Hahahah.

Third amusing scenario: I'm sitting over at our table, minding my own business, between dancing spurts. Brie is still out getting her groove on. I'm enjoying being lost in the music. Suddenly, the chair next to me is pulled closer with a sloppy screech.

I look over, "Hi, I'm Todd from Hillsboro. What's your story?"

"What do you mean, what's my story?" I narrow my eyes at him, annoyed already at the drunken brazenness of this dude. He REEKS of beer.

"Well you know..."

"That's a vague question."

"Well, yeah, you get to know people more by asking those kinds of questions," he says.

"Maybe you just can't think of any interesting questions. Excuse me."

So I go out, back to the dance floor for a few songs. I check out the table from the floor, its clear. Excellent. I go back. Within seconds he's back sitting next to me.

"You know, I had to have seven beers before I could come talk to you tonight," he says. "You're a really good dancer." He's slurring his words. I believe him on the seven beers, but not on the liquid courage part. He's straightlaced, probably intellectual when he's not plastered. He's one of those looking for a little taste of the wild side, which I wouldn't play any part of if I wasn't involved with someone. You can smell these ones a mile away. They treat you well but like a novelty. It gets real old real fast.

"Thanks," I say. He babbles more about psychology, and books I should read, and all this stuff, I'm trying not to be completely rude but he's getting the shortest answers possible from me.

Brie blessedly comes over and says "You ready to go? We can go."

So I say "Bye" to Todd, put my sweater on. He grabs my arm as I start to walk away, and he says "Oh wait, can I have your phone number? I'd really like to take you out sometime."

I say "Thanks, but no - I don't think my boyfriend would like that. I'm seeing someone."

He lets go, and flashes two fingers and says "Peace," then proceeds to pound the rest of his beer.
Peace?!?! WTF?

Adventures of the Black Wig.

Decided it would be fun to wear a black Wig to the Bauhaus show at the Roseland tonight. Black wig = MANTRAP. Seriously.

I was, of course, super excited to see my beloved Bauhaus - and wanted to get down to wait outside an hour and a half before the show started so I could be right up front. So, my beloved Brie Cheese went down there with me at 6:30.

I must mention that Brie looked extra hot this evening - her hair was down and she had on a little tight, black ensemble and the infamous sex boots. It was ON.

So we parked and went down to the Roseland, and there were only a few hearty souls that made it there before us. As we were standing in line, gushing about the men in our lives (or lamenting on the recent departure to Thailand thereof) Brie noticed on her ticket that the show started at 9 - apparently I was thinking of the Seattle show (which I sold my tickets to, and which DID in fact start at 8). OOPS.

Anyway, because Brie loves me she just rolled with it anyway. Got checked out by some weird guys drinking beer, tried to get the attention of the cute Euro guy for Brie, and spotted the Keanu Reeves guy that sadly, ended up being gay and breaking Brie's little heart. (but kept staring at her all night, as he sat with his boyfriend...wtf?)

We got in, and I went to the merch stand to spend entirely too much money on a Hoodie that I love and of course needed, as Brie marked our front right center territory (prime Mr. Ash viewing) in front of the stage. Met a cool chick from Boston or somewhere that was at the Seattle show and gave us the good news that there was no opening band.

Let me just say Daniel Ash in tight leather pants eclipses my previous favorite Daniel Ash, Mr. Mesh Shirt. WHO KNEW?! I'll just leave it at this, if Brie wants to elaborate, she of course may... hahahah. They played the big three songs I wanted to hear - including what I refer to as the sex song. Daniel sang "Slice of Life" too which made me suuuuuper happy.

About 3/4 through the show all hell broke loose and all of a sudden crazy crackwhores started to show up and get in our space. And I mean shove us around, throw their arms all up in the air, hitting us, and generally spazzing out. I started out calmly pushing her back, then I got a little meaner and put my elbow out. Finally I turned around and threw a bunch of profanities at her and informed her I was going to start throwing punches if she didn't quit elbowing me in the fucking head. Well, she didn't listen (after she apologized) and so then I just started to throw elbows at her, getting a small satisfaction that her ribs and her face will be bruised and sore in the morning. Brie in the mean time was putting the smackdown on some stoner chicks that were in her space, so between the two of us a brawl was about to ensue. Cause NO ONE fucks with my Bauhaus time. lol.

Show was over, just in time, I was getting WAY too pissed off and was seriously going to hit this stupid pincushion chick (she had about 1000 facial piercings and smelled TERRIBLE). Her stupid boyfriend was about to get it too, I was sick of feeling certain parts of him shoved up against my ass. On the way out we saw the prettiest goth boy ever (aka Mr. 42) and several other interesting people...

There was the afterparty - which we had NO DESIRE to go to, and so we went to Taco Bell (where the mantrap black wig continued to work its magic - hahahahaha) and now are at home, preparing for a wonderous day of work in the morning.

But Bauhaus does indeed still rock your ass.

Spooky Sundays... the stuff Legend is made of.

Yes, I am home before one. Random highlights of the evening: 1. Threatening mass suicide in the bathroom the first hour, if they wouldn't stop playing the damn depressing goth and play some stompy shit we can dance to. 2. Brie's goals of the evening - a. to have a $60 bar tab, b. to "make out with a hot boy." Both were achieved. 3. Talking to the guy Brie's been lusting over - to discover - yep, gay. 4. Having above mentioned "hot boy" 's 30 something friend try to impress me with all of his name dropping of 80's/90's punk bands that he is "friends with". Laugh secretly inside as I think of how many of them played at my own damn club. 5. Laugh even harder when he wants you to join his band who sounds like "Lydia Lunch." Guess what? Any band that tells you they sound like Lydia Lunch SUCKS BALLS. 6. Taco Bell Debauchery. Have two drunken young men proclaim to us, as we sit in the drive through in my beloved Grandmamobile, that they are eating "THE BEST TACOS EVER" and "I LOVE YOU! CAN WE HAVE *YOUR* TACOS?" Patiently explain to Brie the connotations of said comment as she's too drunk to understand. 7. Get home early and not a MINUTE too soon. Heh.

Adventures at 4:19am

First, a disclaimer... some of you know that I am NOT, repeat, NOT a morning person. In the spirit of this, I'd like to make a list of things that it is acceptable to wake me up for at 4:19 am:

1. You are my hot boyfriend and want sex.
2. You heard something really really cool, like George Bush died, or Daniel Ash is coming to Portland to play.
3. You have a really extravagant gift for me - like a Fender Stratocaster with a sunburst finish, princess cut pink sapphire earrings, or a trip to Jamaica.
4. You are Courtney Taylor. You can wake me up just because. If you don't know who Courtney Taylor is google it.

If its a situation other than this, you should use extreme caution in waking the wrath of a 4 am Sarafina (chances are I may have just passed out).

With that in mind... At 4:19 am "dingdongdingdongdingdong" - rapid fire ringing of my door bell. I'm in a dead sleep, the dog freaks out also and starts barking. I spring out of bed, grab my glasses, and it rings again ... "dingdongdingdongdingdong".

I have one of those little hinged window thingys on my front door, instead of a peep hole. I open it. Upon first glance, in my grogginess I think it might be Mr. Hot Neighbor from next door. Why Hellllooooo there. Then I notice the stocking cap, and the bike, and that this guy isn't hot.

"Yeah?" I ask "

Um Maam, please don't call the authorities, they know I'm out this morning."

"It's 4:00 in the morning."

"Yes Maam, it is." Does he know how much I HATE being called "Maam"? Makes me feel like a fossil.

"What is it that you want?"

"Well, your light was on."

"What?"

"Your light - it was on, I thought you were awake."

I leave my small kitchen light on when I sleep. It illuminates the back porch. Yes, thank you stalker ex for making me a wuss.

"You woke me up at 4:00 to tell me my light was on?" I ask. I'm irritated as hell now and he knows it.

"No Maam... well, see, I'm 1500 miles away from home..."

"What....do....you.... WANT!"

"Um, I need four dollars for..."

I cut him off. "You WHAT? You are panhandling me at my OWN HOUSE and woke me up out of a dead sleep at 4:00 am to do it?"

"Well, your light was on."

"What?"

"Your light... so I know its early, but I'm 1500 miles from home and..."

"NO!" I slam the window and lock it. Only in Portland, dudes.