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here with your weekend update 2009-03-03 12:46 p.m. I never learn my lesson. If I would just do a little at a time as the events go on, I wouldn't have to play massive catch-up. Great. I don't know why I'm so loathe to write about this weekend/Monday. Every moment of it was total euphoria - but also really exhausting. So lazy... Thursday:
Ready to party gras! Somehow, despite only having the paltry position of financial director, the Mardi Gras party that International Club planned to have fell squarely and heavily on my shoulders. I only volunteered to go get supplies and provide music. It may sound great to think, "The party doesn't start until I get there," but it's actually really stressful. After a full day of classes, travel team, and a Charolastra meeting, I had to rush from the store to home to the party in the span of an hour. I was also an hour late, for the record. Ryan dropped me off in front of the room and you wouldn't have been able to see me behind all the bags of alcohol, decorations, beads, food, bags, cups, and stereo system.
Being Samantha Ronson, except not a lesbian and not 110 pounds. The upside of being in charge of the stereo was that I got to deejay. Don't like New Order? Too bad. I played three songs, as well as random stuff like Leonard Cohen, Ra Ra Riot and the Format. European guys kept hijacking my laptop and looking for "house" but I firmly told them to step off. My hip hop was a bit limited, but I did play Snoop Dogg and TLC.
The fellows It turned out to be a huge Charolastra night, with prospects for everyone but me. I don't remember seeing Christina, Ryan or Christine very much throughout the night. They were all scattered with their respective pursuits, while I was busy running around putting out fires left and right. If it wasn't for a five pound bag of gummy bears that I found, I would have had an awful night.
Glory glory, hallelujah. The cops came around twice, and the second time they said that they would stay and fine us until everyone went home. iClub is full of impotent idiots, so of course it was left up to me to be the responsible one. Edith came up to me and said, "Cat, I need you to go outside and regulate because I've been nice as can be to everyone." I was still a little emboldened by gin and tonic when I did go outside. I started going around screaming: "If you don't start moving, I'm going to cut some bitches and hos!" or "I will go around to each and every one of you. I may look small but I will throw punches." A few rowdy and rude guys came up to me to "calm me down" because apparently I was "freaking out". "I'm not freaking out. I need you to go home. I know that the fine is $200 and we only have $300 in our account. So I don't care, you're going to go home right now. And don't touch me." I got everyone out by 12.30, and suddenly realized that I was alone. I had no idea where Christine was, most importantly. I called her, and apparently she was on the other side of Irvine off campus already. She had left with some guy without telling anyone. I'm still justifiably mad about that. Ryan and Christina picked me up soon enough, since apparently they went to the car without me. We then drove around and around Irvine looking for Christine, who was too drunk to give directions. The guy she was with was less than cooperative. When we finally picked her up, he was noticeably upset that we had cock-blocked. We were home by 2am, but tired as I was I stayed up another hour to eat a sub, gyoza and cereal while watching "Return of the King". I didn't sleep until 3am or so. An hour and a half later... I woke up while it was still dark outside and robotically put things in a duffel, got ready and left for San Francisco. Friday: I still can't believe that a month ago I vaguely joked about making an insane trip up north for the Morning Benders show in San Francisco, and it not only panned out, but it was fantastic and perfect.
Mad Libs to pass the time. Nima drove the entire eight hours up there - so long because we made stops at IHOP and Sonic's along the way. It was a huge foodie day. Once in the city, we strolled around Fisherman's Grotto down on the wharf, then down to Ghirardelli Square for hot chocolate. I begrudgingly got a tiny cup of coffee for $4.75 that was much needed; I only got two hours of sleep in the car in addition to the one at home. From the square we drove to Phallus of the Fine Arts, which is really the Palace of the Fine Arts, but became a running joke after Helia dropped the grandest freudian slip I'd ever heard.
Down at the wharf.
Obviously.
the Phallus.
Look familiar?
One of my best, if I do say so myself. The Benderz show wasn't until 8, but Julie wanted to meet at 7.30. We rushed through Haight-Ashbury and dinner, and it was so bad that Christine and I had to change in the car as Nima drove to Slim's.
I blue myself a little early.
Typical. I pretty much freaked out when I saw Julie and Ivy at the end of the block as we walked to the door. First and last time I would see them for awhile. I wasn't sure why Julie wasn't equally happy until she told me that the show was sold out and she hadn't gotten a ticket beforehand like the rest of us. I made a desperate call to Tim begging him to do something, but he cordially let us down. We wandered around hopelessly outside for awhile until some really nice guy had an extra ticket that he gave to Julie. Once inside, we quickly went to work. I felt bad about abandoning Nima, Helia, Christine and Ivy to sit at the front and side of the stage during openers, but Julie and I had to make constant laps to look for everyone on our list (in order of precedence): Lil Chu I hope Julie reads this and notes who is at the bottom of the list. We found everyone but only talked to Julian and Tam. We took creeper pictures with the latter and also later with Lil Chu in extremely awkward circumstances. With Tam, Ivy freaked out when he felt his hand on her shoulder - with no introductions whatsoever. After the show, Julie and I did a sting operation, running up to Lil Chu, snapping a picture, then running away before our humiliation consumed us.
Everyone is so happy. The show itself was fantastic. The Submarines were great and Blake was adorable as always. I'm glad that Christine really liked them and enjoyed herself. I really felt like I was dragging my friends to go. The Morning Benders finally played a great dance set, and Julie and I really let loose and got down to the lowest levels of embarrassing. They even did an encore and played "Ceremony"!
For Ting. After the show, everyone was really understanding and I went with Julie and Ivy back to Nella's for a sleepover. Before bed I had a fried egg sandwich and it was glorious. At Nella's in Daly City, it was nice to spend a few precious hours with them before this eon of a hiatus. Saturday: Julie, Lenine and I woke up after Nella and Ivy had already left for early BART trains. We relaxed for a little while before Lenine and I took BART together back to Berkeley. There I met up with Helia, Nima and his friend Andy to walk around for a bit while we waited for Christine to finish her paper. It was a strange day on Telegraph: I ran into too many Irvine people and members from Street to Nowhere and Push to Talk. It was funny because Helia and I knew the way around better than Andy, who actually goes to Cal. Finally, we drove to Oakland to pick up Christine, and from there went to Fenton's Creamery. We were lost for a little bit before Fenton's, when I recognized a certain middle school off of Piedmont. I started to hyperventilate and my friends couldn't get anything out of me other than, "OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD." We were in front of Samuel Clemens Colburn's house. They locked the door and wouldn't let me out, and kept driving on past to Fenton's. Cruel! At Fenton's, I had to argue with both our waiter and the manager for forty-five minutes to get them to let us do the ice cream challenge. Yeah, I don't know why I did it again. Never again. This time I ate the three pounds of ice cream in 11 minutes (miniature woot), but the speed did me in. I actually felt sick this time, and I've vowed to never do it again. I mean it this time.
He doesn't know what he's in for. That reminds me, I also vow to stop with the Timothy Rabbit thing. It's over. I don't want to talk about it. In addition to basic common sense, I shouldn't have eaten the ice cream because Helia's mom was making a big persian dinner for us that night. We had to rush through Castro in San Fran to get to Helia's house in Santa Rosa in time for dinner. Thank goodness I'm young and I bounced back pretty quickly. I didn't have seconds, but I ate some of everything to make Helia's mom happy. I was unprepared for Persian family dynamics, so I hope that I appeared respectable even if I'm really not. Her family and town were adorable, and I'm glad to have made the trip.
Across the Golden Gate, on our way to Sonoma County. Sunday: Helia's mom made us an orgasmically delicious brekkers and packed us a huge freezer bag full of strawberries for the road. We made it home in a decent time, and I just spent the rest of the night recuperating and thinking about how excited I was for the next night! Monday: Ra Ra Riot day! As if Ra Ra Riot wasn't enough to be excited about, against all odds I messaged Snorberg to invite him and he said he would go to the show. Christine and I talked for awhile on the couch like normal girls about how this is the first time in a long time that we've genuinely liked someone. It's bizarre, but I can't deny it, despite my habits of being a cold bitch. I tried my best not to be meticulous about my appearance and not too nervous. Until the show, I shut myself up in my room and concentrated on a paper.
We don't look it, but we were going insane. Come time for the show, Christina and I were bouncing around like children. Ryan didn't know Ra Ra Riot, so he was more excited for Snorberg. Then the strangest thing happened. While we were outside so they could smoke, they started freaking out and saying that he was walking up. I had just taken off my glasses for a picture so I couldn't tell, but they both assured me he was standing at the bouncer behind me. They told me to do something, but I was uncharacteristically paralyzed and mute. For some reason, Snorberg walked away after a few words with the bouncer. We surmised that he forgot cash for the cover, his phone to call me, or his ID in his car. We waited half an hour outside for him to come back, but he never did and Christina needed to go to the bathroom. While she went, I got two texts from him saying he was sorry, but his friend that he planned on coming with bailed and he didn't know there was a cover. Cheapskate! I'm not worth $12?!
"If he doesn't come back, I will smash this glass on my head." Just kidding, it was completely reasonable. I wouldn't pay $12 to see a band I didn't know, then more for drinks. Ryan thinks that he was nervous to come alone, and it was admirable that he at least tried. The cover was probably the last straw. They tried to assure me that it was still a charolastra victory because he came, but I'm skeptical. I've put myself on the line three times now, and it's been three strikes. I'm really interested, but I'm tired and embarrassed of making the effort now. I don't know. I was actually half relieved that he didn't come. I was worrying because I'm unspeakably embarrassing when I dance at shows, and I didn't want to half to hold back during Ra Ra Riot. Since he wasn't there, I was free to be as big of an idiot as I wanted. It turned out to be a fantastic show, with the biggest redeeming factor ever afterwards... We ate donuts with Emile Hirsch. Needs explaining, I know. We waited around after the show to try to meet Wesley from Ra Ra Riot, because Christina was certain they would be best friends. All we needed to do was start a conversation and it would all fall into place. It apparently wasn't meant to be though, because we were next to last to leave, and we didn't get to Wesley. We finally left Detroit Bar and decided that we still weren't sober enough to drive back. There was a 24 hour donut shop on the corner of the plaza we were in, so we went there. Ryan hastily ordered and devoured a maple bar and almost passed out in a rum and coke and sugar euphoria. Christina and I were slower to decide. I was arguing with the man behind the counter about his blueberry muffin when Ryan and Christina went silent and kicked each other. I turned around and saw that Emile Hirsch was standing in line behind us. We apologized and let him go ahead since we didn't know what we were going to order. He got a plain glazed bar and stepped back to let us order. We chatted casually about donuts, how good the show was, and a mutual friend with the band. It was all so relaxed and amazing that we didn't even think or want to take a picture. Afterwards we talked about how the memory was enough for us, and also we didn't want to be those freaky fangirls. People can choose to believe us or not, but my goodness. Best night ever.
In front of the famous donut shop - that is actually called Famous Subs and Donuts. Today: Whew, that took an hour and a half to write. I was right to dread it. As of now I'm still not done because I have to put in pictures. Hope it was worth it to read, and if it wasn't, here's a very alarming/amusing bit to top it off... c teh t: make sure you go to northern ireland to shop My sister, ladies and gentlemen. back |- |
