...And We're Back!

So, let me just start by saying I haven't written anything here in months. I will continue to tell myself that I will, but I probably won't. We'll see.
Also, what I am going to publish today is filled with grammar errors. I over use my "either ways" and "howevers." I always have. I need to educate myself and learn more conjunctions!

22-02-2009
Last night was, in more ways than one, a mental and emotional adventure. I decided, at some point yesterday afternoon, that I was going to go to Proud Galleries in Camden to check out the bands. I wanted to get there early so I would only have to pay five at the door. This put me inside at around 9:00. I grabbed a beer and started circling the place and observing the crowd. This is when the flow of thoughts started, and why I came to decide on writing this. I started taking notes on old receipts I had in my purse.
My first thought was about my own personal form of age discrimination. I have a strict bracket with age and dating, which tends to affect how the delivery of the question comes about. How old are you? Stressing the “how” indicates that the person is mostly likely younger than me. There is sadness in it. Me telling the person they are too young, and the immediate thought that I am maybe scouting out a young man. Then there is the alternative. How old are you? This time stressing the “old” I am almost accusing the person of their age. As if they should feel some guilt for nature pushing them through the years. Either way, neither of the tones can be taken as a compliment.
I moved on from this thought, and the bands began to play. The first band, Hexa, was from New York. I had actually decided to go to Proud based on the fact that a hometown band was going to be there. Regardless, they were fun. Their songs were short bursts of energy. I heard a man behind me complain that they were ending their songs just as people started to get into them. I understood his point, but I thought they just had good sense of humor. They were obviously having fun and not taking themselves too seriously. The English don’t seem to like that.
The second band was forgettable… Loads of dreary heavy sounds that bored me quickly. I think they were called Apache Beat if you are looking to avoid them in the future. I left the room and started to circle again. It was a wasteful endless circle.
The third band was called The Kabeedies. They were a lot of fun. The members were all very young, and that showed in their performance. The lead singer rocked. She was a feisty little red head, and she danced the shit out of that stage. One of the girls in Hexa did too. It made me happy to see so many girls rocking it out on stage. I remember having an epiphany at that moment. I decided that I wanted to go back to Brooklyn and start a band on the basis of simply being sexy and getting laid. Generally my dreams to become an aspiring rock star happen while I am intoxicated.
After the bands performed everything started to go downhill. It wasn’t a series of immediate mishaps. It was a building block system of failure. However, I will first go through my drunken notes and comment on them as I feel they should not be left out.
1) Two guys in Plaid: The funny thing is, there was this pair of guys in plaid, dressed the same. I remember looking at them and thinking “Ha. That’s weird… those two guys are dressed the same.” Then I laughed more so remembering that my friend in LA has a problem where he gets dressed to go out, and then his roommate wears the same thing. I sympathize for you dear friend, now realizing the circumstances that can arise. Fadouchery.
I also realized last night… and probably many nights before, that my attraction to a man doubles if he is wearing a plaid shirt. However, my attraction to that man is then divided if he turns out to resemble someone I used to date. Particularly if that certain someone had broken my heart.
One of the boys also looked like a young Mick Jagger, or a 12 year old Rosalyn Chesky. But that is a personal reference. Either way, I now realize that 12 year old Rosalyn looked a lot like a young Mick Jagger.
2) Douchey White Sunglasses Inside: This is self explanatory. I don’t need to elaborate.
3) Using Change in a Bar: Now, I have said this before, but I will say it again. There is too much change in this country. I mean currency, not “change.” There is too much “change” in America. But in England there is too much literal, jingle jangle in my pocket, yes of course I have some change to spare, change! So last night, I brought a change purse with me, because I have been accumulating stacks in my room, and I was looking to get rid of it. My beer cost 3.50. Not exactly cheap! But, I had 5 ten P in my purse (that sounds I little confusing maybe). And I held it out to the bar tender along with twenty quid. She just took the twenty and made a face that suggested she was bothered by my change. But I persisted! When she turned back with her 50 P, I shoved the ten P in her hand; she took the 50 P back, and gave me a pound! Success! I know now that I should just not use change in the first place, apparently, as bartenders who don’t like to, or know how to count, just don’t prefer it.
4) Monet Face: There are only so many opportunities in my life when I can seriously drop a “Clueless” reference, so I am excited to have done so last night. Actually, I could probably use “Clueless” references whenever I want. I just never think I them when I need them. But I did last night! There was this guy who looked rather gorgeous from far away. And when I checked him out, he actually looked back! As it turns out, close up, he was a mess. His face was pocked and scarred. I shouldn’t have let it bother me so much, and still shouldn’t, as I have a constant fear of karma. Anyhow, he was like a Monet. He looks great from far away, but when you get close it’s a disaster. That quote is paraphrased.
So those were my notes. VERY profound. I will wrap up the night as it was…
I continued to drink, and slowly wallow in my sadness. I was alone, obviously, which some people find pathetic. I see their point. I kept eye stalking this really awkward dude, and never said anything to him, because I feared being turned down by his intensely awkward awkwardness. Yeah, I DID just say awkward three times in one sentence. I quickly chatted up this one guy, but the disinterest seemed mutual. As I finally gave up, after a few drunken ventures to the dance floor and back outside… back and forth, back and forth… I decided I should probably leave. BUT!!! As I was leaving I found the most intensely beautiful toy sword I had ever set eyes on! I was so happy, because I few weeks earlier at Shunt I had acquired a nice toy sword. However this one was FAR superior because it lit up and made awesome sounds! I quickly ran outside with it. I went to the bus stop with a smile on my face thinking, “Well, even though the night went south, in the end it brought me to this lovely sword!” BUT NO. I was showing it to these two guys in my drunken, “look at this win” state, and this other dude turns to me and says, “Actually, that’s my friend Sam’s sword. It was his 30th tonight, and these girls searched on eBay to find it. I need to have it back. I can show you pictures to prove it.” He showed me pictures, and it was fact. The sword was in Sam’s hands in many of the photos. I had him take a picture of me with the sword. Why? I don’t know. We ended up riding the bus to Trafalgar Square together. I realized it was an original He-Man sword, and by the power of Grayscull, I was sad to let it go. I wrote Sam a short note explaining how I had grown quite attached to the sword, and that I was sad to see us go our separate ways.
I begrudgingly got off the bus without my sword. And to top it all off, I ended the night by taking a home run style slide across the pavement in Trafalgar Square. NOT intentionally, I was running for the bus and tripped. It was on my bad knee too. Darn. On a light note though, the guy who was running for the bus next to me looked back after my fall, tried to help, and took a similar fall immediately after… We both laughed it off and continued running. He looked to me and said, “Well that hurt.” Indeed, it did.