Maybe I’ll see you there. If anybody is interested, I could bring my Pride and Prejudice board game. Let me know in the comments.
There are two holidays I do poorly, New Year’s Eve and 4th of July and I reluctantly do both almost every year. For years, I would ask my friends, not so subtly, “What are the plans for the 4th?” And I would get nothing in response. This was a miserable game of chicken that I lost every year. Hence, my annual crappy 4th of July party that no one looks forward to, but everyone attends.
The invites (all phone conversations) usually start something like this:
Me: I’m doing it.
Them: The 4th? Of course. You do it every year.
Me: I know. It’s going to suck again, but if you don’t have anything better then come on over. We can make fun of your sad life. It must be sad. You’re at my house on a major holiday.
Them: Cool. It will be like last year. Should I bring my famous beans (insert any basic food item here)?
Me: Famous? They’re from a can (box, the store, bag, whatever).
Them: I didn’t say I made them famous.
Me: Yeah, bring them.
Have a great 4th and make sure to blow some shit up!
Apparently, I have grim loves I don’t even know about. I was watching Workaholics. If you’ve haven’t seen it, you’re missing out. It’s so goood. Anyways, I commented that Blake (pictured above) was hot. The room ignited in ear splitting guffaws. You would have thought I said, “I smuggled drugs inside babies.” Is my taste really that bad? If you are on the fence, maybe this will change your mind. Let me know if you think he’s grim.
Good or bad, these songs have influenced my work in progress.
Fuck! I am old. Rid of Me is 20.
I was 21 when I discovered PJ Harvey. One listen and the top of my head exploded. I wanted more. PJ Harvey’s music made me feel like it was all right to be pissed off and a girl. I had just gotten out of a bad relationship with my first live in boyfriend. He’s one of the reason I moved to San Francisco. He wasn’t a bad guy, we were just bad for each other. He never really liked me. He just liked having sex with me, but he was too nice of a guy to accept that within himself. So instead, we pretended to be in love with each other. Obviously, my self-esteem wasn’t in abundance.
So, we broke up and Rid of Me became the soundtrack to the next two years of fun self-destruction involving drinks, drugs, chaos and crazy roommates. There may have been a juggler involved, but that’s another story.
Take a listen. If you don’t have Spotify, get it.
Either I peaked too soon or 2011 was a great time for music.