Hi kids. For the next month, I'm going to be swamped with more freelance projects than I think any person with a full-time job can realistically handle, but I'll make it work!
That being said, I am going to have to put this blog on hold until further notice. I will not have time to tend to my non-paying gigs while trying to stay on top of paying ones (every minute I spend on something that isn't paying me is a minute I'm NOT spending on something that will). There's oh-so-much going on that I would love to snark on--Meijer on 8 Mile, SMART bus services being cut back--but alas, time does not permit. Never fear: all those fine people in the side bar will continue keeping you posted while I cannot. In the meantime, you can keep up with me...pretty much everywhere else you've come to know and love.
I will return...and just in time to give you the scoop for Halloween!
TTFN,
D
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
We're Going to Have So Much Fun With These People
In case you haven't heard:
Detroit has been in the national news, again, lately (thankfully not for that epic Community Arts Foundation FAIL! and let's really try to leave it that way). There was that self-important hipster kid who came out here to talk about how national media only documents certain things about Detroit (blight, abandonment, Sweet Juniper) and in effect succeeded in only documenting certain things about Detroit: blight, abandonment, Sweet Juniper. (It would actually be a solid piece of writing if it weren't so damn smarmy...the city of Detroit thanks you, Thomas Morton, for being so enlightened and taking such a light-shedding approach to Detroit-centric journalism...love the picture of the abandoned train station, btw! Totally didn't see that one coming!)
In oh-Dear-God-let's-hope more positive news, Time Inc. is embedding a group of journalists right here in our fair city for one full year of intensive Detroit coverage which extends beyond the usual "Abandonment! Curruption! Unemployment! Blight!" declarations most national coverage gives us. (Not that any of that isn't true, but it only shows one piece of a much larger picture.) The concept of embedding journalists in this manner is a new one and it is interesting that they chose to do it in Detroit--perhaps there was enough of an outcry raised by the vast minority against all this doom-and-gloom journalism that the folks at Time realized that there may indeed be something more here. (We could have told them that.) At the very least, it should be interesting to see what they come up with. (Credit: Think Detroit)
I kinda want to mess with them though. Don't you?
Detroit has been in the national news, again, lately (thankfully not for that epic Community Arts Foundation FAIL! and let's really try to leave it that way). There was that self-important hipster kid who came out here to talk about how national media only documents certain things about Detroit (blight, abandonment, Sweet Juniper) and in effect succeeded in only documenting certain things about Detroit: blight, abandonment, Sweet Juniper. (It would actually be a solid piece of writing if it weren't so damn smarmy...the city of Detroit thanks you, Thomas Morton, for being so enlightened and taking such a light-shedding approach to Detroit-centric journalism...love the picture of the abandoned train station, btw! Totally didn't see that one coming!)
In oh-Dear-God-let's-hope more positive news, Time Inc. is embedding a group of journalists right here in our fair city for one full year of intensive Detroit coverage which extends beyond the usual "Abandonment! Curruption! Unemployment! Blight!" declarations most national coverage gives us. (Not that any of that isn't true, but it only shows one piece of a much larger picture.) The concept of embedding journalists in this manner is a new one and it is interesting that they chose to do it in Detroit--perhaps there was enough of an outcry raised by the vast minority against all this doom-and-gloom journalism that the folks at Time realized that there may indeed be something more here. (We could have told them that.) At the very least, it should be interesting to see what they come up with. (Credit: Think Detroit)
I kinda want to mess with them though. Don't you?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Why Fucking Awesome Fest is Better Than Blowout
Metrotimes is going to be pissed.
Oh, I'm just playing, don't misunderstand: Blowout is still fantastic, and one of the best music festivals in the country. (Yes, COUNTRY. Coachella, pfft.) I don't want to make any enemies with the above statements(s)...not that this would be a new thing, but seeing as how I've already hit my quota for the month...
As a local, I offer you this: Fucking Awesome Fest IS indeed better than Blowout. Why, you ask? Well, I'd love to tell you!
Take the same general concept. Include a good number of the exact same bands. Add in the fact that it all happens in the same venue complex and voila, better.
Yes, Blowout has more than twice as many bands and also happens to be a day longer, and this is why as an overall FESTIVAL it is indeed better (especially that it happens in Hamtramck, the cool factor, the community it creates, etc.). BUT. For a local. Who goes to these kinds of shows all the time. And sees the same bands every weekend. The very same bands who play the very same festival circuits. Fucking Awesome Fest is more convenient.
Think about it: with staggered stage times, which OFTEN don't run on schedule, Blowout attendees are faced with difficult decisions every hour as to who they're going to see next. They plan their entire nights around the printed schedule and the bands they want to see most, and then 15 minutes in have their entire painstakingly planned agendas shot to hell when NONE of the bars are running on their scheduled times. At this point, the whole weekend becomes a crapshoot--sure, it's still fun, but never quite in the way you had planned.
Also include the fact that you must drive to EVERY venue--because Hamtramck, especially after dark, isn't an entirely walkable city (would YOU walk from Small's to the Painted Lady at midnight?)--wasting precious minutes in the car driving and desperately trying to find parking--not an easy task when the city is overwhelmed by 3x as many people as usual. Often only to find out that the band you just spent 20 minutes trying to get to is running 45 minutes behind, and there is no one else on stage.
Fun, yes, but often frustrating. Whereas Fucking Awesome Fest offered 7 stages all playing staggered set times and all within in the same complex: after seeing 20 minutes of one set on the Alley Deck, you could spend 3 minutes walking downstairs to the Garden Bowl and catch 20 minutes of someone else's set. OR, if within 5 minutes you discovered you didn't like what was going on at the Garden Bowl, you could spend another 3 minutes going back upstairs to see what was happening at the Stick, or go into the Cafe, or just go take a leak and get another beer. You only had to spend 5 minutes in your car trying to find parking, as parking in the area is usually ample, and as an added bonus you only had to do this once per day. The entire complex offers all of your dietary needs for a day's worth of drinking and, let's hope this was true for most of you, eating. The various venues are clean with well-kept bathrooms that don't often get overcrowded. Sure, the sound is often abysmal but--so it is throughout most of Hamtramck.
The biggest disappointment of the weekend was the fact that the Octopus cancelled, which, if anyone was paying attention to local things to pay attention to, was announced the day before thus making it totally plannable-aroundable.
On a sidenote, the by-and-large favorite of the weekend seemed to be adult. (who have maintained a level of relative obscurity as of late). I happen to know where the duo who comprises adult. lives. Well, I don't remember the exact house, but I know the street, and my friend lives across from them and could totally point the house out to me again, which means I could totally stalk them if I wanted to. I know you're jealous; you don't have to tell me so.
Oh, I'm just playing, don't misunderstand: Blowout is still fantastic, and one of the best music festivals in the country. (Yes, COUNTRY. Coachella, pfft.) I don't want to make any enemies with the above statements(s)...not that this would be a new thing, but seeing as how I've already hit my quota for the month...
As a local, I offer you this: Fucking Awesome Fest IS indeed better than Blowout. Why, you ask? Well, I'd love to tell you!
Take the same general concept. Include a good number of the exact same bands. Add in the fact that it all happens in the same venue complex and voila, better.
Yes, Blowout has more than twice as many bands and also happens to be a day longer, and this is why as an overall FESTIVAL it is indeed better (especially that it happens in Hamtramck, the cool factor, the community it creates, etc.). BUT. For a local. Who goes to these kinds of shows all the time. And sees the same bands every weekend. The very same bands who play the very same festival circuits. Fucking Awesome Fest is more convenient.
Think about it: with staggered stage times, which OFTEN don't run on schedule, Blowout attendees are faced with difficult decisions every hour as to who they're going to see next. They plan their entire nights around the printed schedule and the bands they want to see most, and then 15 minutes in have their entire painstakingly planned agendas shot to hell when NONE of the bars are running on their scheduled times. At this point, the whole weekend becomes a crapshoot--sure, it's still fun, but never quite in the way you had planned.
Also include the fact that you must drive to EVERY venue--because Hamtramck, especially after dark, isn't an entirely walkable city (would YOU walk from Small's to the Painted Lady at midnight?)--wasting precious minutes in the car driving and desperately trying to find parking--not an easy task when the city is overwhelmed by 3x as many people as usual. Often only to find out that the band you just spent 20 minutes trying to get to is running 45 minutes behind, and there is no one else on stage.
Fun, yes, but often frustrating. Whereas Fucking Awesome Fest offered 7 stages all playing staggered set times and all within in the same complex: after seeing 20 minutes of one set on the Alley Deck, you could spend 3 minutes walking downstairs to the Garden Bowl and catch 20 minutes of someone else's set. OR, if within 5 minutes you discovered you didn't like what was going on at the Garden Bowl, you could spend another 3 minutes going back upstairs to see what was happening at the Stick, or go into the Cafe, or just go take a leak and get another beer. You only had to spend 5 minutes in your car trying to find parking, as parking in the area is usually ample, and as an added bonus you only had to do this once per day. The entire complex offers all of your dietary needs for a day's worth of drinking and, let's hope this was true for most of you, eating. The various venues are clean with well-kept bathrooms that don't often get overcrowded. Sure, the sound is often abysmal but--so it is throughout most of Hamtramck.
The biggest disappointment of the weekend was the fact that the Octopus cancelled, which, if anyone was paying attention to local things to pay attention to, was announced the day before thus making it totally plannable-aroundable.
On a sidenote, the by-and-large favorite of the weekend seemed to be adult. (who have maintained a level of relative obscurity as of late). I happen to know where the duo who comprises adult. lives. Well, I don't remember the exact house, but I know the street, and my friend lives across from them and could totally point the house out to me again, which means I could totally stalk them if I wanted to. I know you're jealous; you don't have to tell me so.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Tired
I was just looking at my inbox and an email from Guess.com reading "Fall Boot Sale" and I thought it said "football," and as I squinted at it I realized that it wouldn't make sense that Guess.com would be sending me something that said "football," or that I would even be receiving any kind of email having anything to do with pigskins that aren't meant for eating. THEN I realized that "Fall Boot" and "football" are kind of inverses of each other [F all B oot / F oot B all], which I found positively fascinating for several minutes and wondered if anyone else had ever discovered the lexicographical relevancy of "fall boot" and "football" (a fall sport) being so closely related, which made me start thinking about The Professor and the Madman, which finally then made me realize that it's time for me to go to bed.
8 outstanding freelance projects, 3 blogs to maintain, weekly events calendar to update, emails from friends that require some level of cogency to answer, and a business plan outline are just going to have to wait. Day Watch and couch it is. (Day Watch = awesome. But you have to watch Night Watch first. Also awesome.)
8 outstanding freelance projects, 3 blogs to maintain, weekly events calendar to update, emails from friends that require some level of cogency to answer, and a business plan outline are just going to have to wait. Day Watch and couch it is. (Day Watch = awesome. But you have to watch Night Watch first. Also awesome.)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The Trash Brats? Really?
Earlier this week I decided to do a little nostalgia tour; I stopped by Dearborn Music and spent a good hour combing through the used CD bins, just like I did a decade ago when the world was a much simpler place and scoring the most sought-after import/bootleg/promo disc was the greatest success to be achieved. I walked out with a stack of random shit (Orbital, Mozart, Madonna, etc.) and a few earmarked for a return trip (turns out I don't already have KMFDM's Angst...sometimes it's hard to remember). Right now they're also offering 20% off all full-price new and used CDs through August 23rd, which was a total bonus. Schumann's Complete Concertos, here I come!
While there I decided to see what they kept in their humble "local music" section, buried in the corner between the hip-hop and the techno sections. I was hoping to add some fun things to my collection, like maybe the new Zoos of Berlin, but alas, no such thing was to be found. In fact, of the maybe 100 titles there, not a single solitary one of them was a name I recognized. Now, I don't claim to even be remotely an expert, but I do my time, I read this blog, and this one here (Metro Times is gonna be pissed), and thus consider myself relatively well informed, even if I get a little nervous being around too many hipsters.
(A youth spent at Slayer concerts, and it's the fucking hipsters that make me nervous.)
Of all the titles, scores of unknowns with CD sleeves that looked like they were photocopied at Kinko's, the ONE name that I even recognized of ALL the great and wonderful local bands out there was the Trash Brats.
Really? The Trash Brats? Of all the bands this fair city has to offer, and it's only the fucking Trash Brats that make their way into the bins of the local record stores? All this collection needed to be complete was a stack of ICP.
Maybe it's just Dearborn Music, I don't know, it's been awhile since I've done the circuit, but I do know that, despite the fact that all music is free on the Internet, these bands do indeed have CDs which they sell via their MySpace pages and the merch booths at their shows. Logic would follow that the independent record stores might also be a good place to offer their goods and perhaps get some additional exposure and make their goods more accessible to those who might not have PayPal accounts, access to credit cards, or opportunity to go to shows (I'm thinking of the suburban under-16 set here), but it would appear that said record stores don't do much to court the local acts and in return, those acts don't bother with the record stores.
I may not have an MBA but I have enough background in retail sales, marketing and advertising to know that this is a big missed opportunity here.
Ponder that while I continue to try to badger someone into going to Fucking Awesome Fest with me tonight. Maybe I should start making friends with some hipsters so that it isn't so difficult to find someone to go to these things with. Okay, I just re-read that, forget I said anything.
While there I decided to see what they kept in their humble "local music" section, buried in the corner between the hip-hop and the techno sections. I was hoping to add some fun things to my collection, like maybe the new Zoos of Berlin, but alas, no such thing was to be found. In fact, of the maybe 100 titles there, not a single solitary one of them was a name I recognized. Now, I don't claim to even be remotely an expert, but I do my time, I read this blog, and this one here (Metro Times is gonna be pissed), and thus consider myself relatively well informed, even if I get a little nervous being around too many hipsters.
(A youth spent at Slayer concerts, and it's the fucking hipsters that make me nervous.)
Of all the titles, scores of unknowns with CD sleeves that looked like they were photocopied at Kinko's, the ONE name that I even recognized of ALL the great and wonderful local bands out there was the Trash Brats.
Really? The Trash Brats? Of all the bands this fair city has to offer, and it's only the fucking Trash Brats that make their way into the bins of the local record stores? All this collection needed to be complete was a stack of ICP.
Maybe it's just Dearborn Music, I don't know, it's been awhile since I've done the circuit, but I do know that, despite the fact that all music is free on the Internet, these bands do indeed have CDs which they sell via their MySpace pages and the merch booths at their shows. Logic would follow that the independent record stores might also be a good place to offer their goods and perhaps get some additional exposure and make their goods more accessible to those who might not have PayPal accounts, access to credit cards, or opportunity to go to shows (I'm thinking of the suburban under-16 set here), but it would appear that said record stores don't do much to court the local acts and in return, those acts don't bother with the record stores.
I may not have an MBA but I have enough background in retail sales, marketing and advertising to know that this is a big missed opportunity here.
Ponder that while I continue to try to badger someone into going to Fucking Awesome Fest with me tonight. Maybe I should start making friends with some hipsters so that it isn't so difficult to find someone to go to these things with. Okay, I just re-read that, forget I said anything.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Fucking Awesome
Fucking Awesome Fest* starts today. So just how fucking awesome is Fucking Awesome Fest? Take a fucking awesome venue (the Majestic Theatre Complex) and a crapton of fucking awesome bands playing on a rotating schedule on 7 fucking awesome stages (and how the hell they're fitting 3 stages inside the Stick is anyone's guess...on the fucking awesome pool tables maybe?) and just simply call it "Fucking Awesome" because that is what it is, it's fucking awesome. Hence, Fucking Awesome Fest.
Fucking Awesome Fest runs this whole fucking awesome weekend, but the most fucking awesome day appears to be fucking awesome Saturday, followed closely by fucking awesome Sunday. $12 for one night, $20 for the weekend. Thursday-Sunday. Be there. Because there just aren't enough fucking awesome music fesitvals in this city. Not enough that call themselves fucking awesome, anyway.
*This whole post was written with the sole purpose of seeing just how many times I could say "Fucking Awesome" in one entry. 17 is the answer.
Fucking Awesome Fest runs this whole fucking awesome weekend, but the most fucking awesome day appears to be fucking awesome Saturday, followed closely by fucking awesome Sunday. $12 for one night, $20 for the weekend. Thursday-Sunday. Be there. Because there just aren't enough fucking awesome music fesitvals in this city. Not enough that call themselves fucking awesome, anyway.
*This whole post was written with the sole purpose of seeing just how many times I could say "Fucking Awesome" in one entry. 17 is the answer.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Amnesia is Awful, Bachelorette Parties Are Worse, Getting Old is Worser
A friend of mine recently asked me to create an itinerary for her girlfriend's bachelorette party. She told me she wanted to know what the "cool" bars downtown were, the places that "not everyone goes to."
Mind you, this is a suburban friend planning for a group of suburban girls, so while I might think to myself "But everyone goes to Park Bar and Cliff Bells and Proof," not EVERYONE everyone goes there, just everyone I know.
There was also the added conundrum: I don't know these girls and I don't know what their stylo is...while I might enjoy a bachelorette party that looks something like Woodbridge Pub-Bronx Bar-Old Miami-Trumpps-Enoteca, the same is most likely not the case for these girls. I pictured in my head a gaggle of drunk girls giggling about boys and having deep conversations about menstrual cramps and skincare products, so I thought maaaaaaybe not so much. I did throw Trumpps into the air to see if it would stick; it did not. Lame.
I was then given slightly more specific instructions: they wanted somewhere clubby, but not too clubby. Loungey. Kind of trendy. More upscale. Well, that I can do.
First I would have suggested Enoteca, but then I thought "drunk girls in penis hats" and said no way. Granted, my friend assured me there would be no penis hats, but still--the ethos of the penis hat remains. So then I thought, what are the really cool places downtown? And then I thought, no, not "cool"...what are the kind of places that would appeal to a bunch of giggling drunk girls who aren't wearing penis hats though they keep the spirit of the penis hat alive who want to feel like they're going to places that no one knows about but they're really all places everyone knows about but because they aren't the Old Shillelagh they feel like it's all new and mysterious?
Bingo.
And so it was: Proof, Pulse, Cliff Bells, Cafe D'Mongo. Cafe D'Mongo was the wild card that I threw in only because I wanted to go; I doubt they went and even if they did, it probably wouldn't have been their "speed." I also suggested Eclipz inside Greektown, Mosaic, and Ignite (half-off sushi through August 31st!) inside MGM. I promised to meet up with them after work, and began texting my friend around 11:00.
"were going to sombor im motor city" is the text I get back. Luckily I have finely-tuned deductive reasoning skills and concluded that she meant "Sound Board." While this was NOT part of the itinerary I so painstakingly labored over (not really), I actually do like Sound Board and decided to meet them there.
Except. Sound Board was closed. There was no event happening there. And then it dawned on me: They're going to fucking Amnesia.
Worst club EVER. I loathe that club. The dance floor is about 2 square feet, the traffic flow is AWFUL, and for some reason the clientele there is consistently obnoxious. This night was Arab Night (all clubs/cities have culture/ethnicity-specific nights; we've covered this here before but to recap, in the city of Detroit, Friday night is Black People Night and Saturday night is Arab Night--but only at certain clubs). It was like being at Crave on a Sunday (but not a Wednesday because that's Black People Night at Crave). Anyway, douche-o-rama. It's always guaranteed to be a douche-fest when the guys spend more time preening than the girls. And so it was.
I arrived there before the gaggle and slinked into a seat at the bar at Iridescence (where you must pass in order to get to the club, and so I got a sneak peak at all the douchebaggery). I asked the bartender to make me something that would make me be able to tolerate a bunch of drunk girls at a bachelorette party. He asked if I wanted a bottle with a straw. I thought about it, but decided on a chocolate martini instead. I eavesdropped on the slightly-past-their-prime couple sitting next to me, who were discussing the art of "spinning." You know what I'm talkin' about. Spinners? Well, if you don't, then I can't help you. Go read a Bible or something.
So in stumbles my friend, who is incredibly sweet and kind and generous and I love her to pieces but goodlordinheaven was I ever not in the mood to do the whole drunk-girl-bachelorette-party thing. Her friend, the soon-to-be-bride, stopped by and thanked me for the itinerary (for however much they may have utilized it, I'll never know), and I politely (I hope?) told my friend that I hate that fucking club and I was going to finish my drink and go home. She gave me a big smile that said "Good 'cuz no one wants to deal with your bitchy buzzkill ass anyway" and then trotted off to the club. I sincerely do hope she had fun.
And that was my Saturday. Funny how much things can change in a year, isn't it? One thing about doing the whole nightlife coverage professionally thing for a good 8 months is that it made me never want to participate in anything remotely nightlife-related ever again.
For example: Earlier that same day I got a call from a friend at around 1:30 in the afternoon. She was already drunk, and wanted me to go to Crave the next night with her (one doesn't have anything to do with the other but I found it worth noting that she was already drunk). I don't know if it was the waning moon, the PMS, the knowledge that I had to open the next morning, an overarching sense of perpetual exhaustion, rattled nerves, lack of patience, or just plain getting old, but without batting an eye I said "Oh dear God no."
I always knew I would be a cranky old person. I just never thought it would happen so early.
I also found my first grey hair a few months (2?) back. That or my hair is turning platinum blonde all on its own. Ouch. Getting old sucks.
Mind you, this is a suburban friend planning for a group of suburban girls, so while I might think to myself "But everyone goes to Park Bar and Cliff Bells and Proof," not EVERYONE everyone goes there, just everyone I know.
There was also the added conundrum: I don't know these girls and I don't know what their stylo is...while I might enjoy a bachelorette party that looks something like Woodbridge Pub-Bronx Bar-Old Miami-Trumpps-Enoteca, the same is most likely not the case for these girls. I pictured in my head a gaggle of drunk girls giggling about boys and having deep conversations about menstrual cramps and skincare products, so I thought maaaaaaybe not so much. I did throw Trumpps into the air to see if it would stick; it did not. Lame.
I was then given slightly more specific instructions: they wanted somewhere clubby, but not too clubby. Loungey. Kind of trendy. More upscale. Well, that I can do.
First I would have suggested Enoteca, but then I thought "drunk girls in penis hats" and said no way. Granted, my friend assured me there would be no penis hats, but still--the ethos of the penis hat remains. So then I thought, what are the really cool places downtown? And then I thought, no, not "cool"...what are the kind of places that would appeal to a bunch of giggling drunk girls who aren't wearing penis hats though they keep the spirit of the penis hat alive who want to feel like they're going to places that no one knows about but they're really all places everyone knows about but because they aren't the Old Shillelagh they feel like it's all new and mysterious?
Bingo.
And so it was: Proof, Pulse, Cliff Bells, Cafe D'Mongo. Cafe D'Mongo was the wild card that I threw in only because I wanted to go; I doubt they went and even if they did, it probably wouldn't have been their "speed." I also suggested Eclipz inside Greektown, Mosaic, and Ignite (half-off sushi through August 31st!) inside MGM. I promised to meet up with them after work, and began texting my friend around 11:00.
"were going to sombor im motor city" is the text I get back. Luckily I have finely-tuned deductive reasoning skills and concluded that she meant "Sound Board." While this was NOT part of the itinerary I so painstakingly labored over (not really), I actually do like Sound Board and decided to meet them there.
Except. Sound Board was closed. There was no event happening there. And then it dawned on me: They're going to fucking Amnesia.
Worst club EVER. I loathe that club. The dance floor is about 2 square feet, the traffic flow is AWFUL, and for some reason the clientele there is consistently obnoxious. This night was Arab Night (all clubs/cities have culture/ethnicity-specific nights; we've covered this here before but to recap, in the city of Detroit, Friday night is Black People Night and Saturday night is Arab Night--but only at certain clubs). It was like being at Crave on a Sunday (but not a Wednesday because that's Black People Night at Crave). Anyway, douche-o-rama. It's always guaranteed to be a douche-fest when the guys spend more time preening than the girls. And so it was.
I arrived there before the gaggle and slinked into a seat at the bar at Iridescence (where you must pass in order to get to the club, and so I got a sneak peak at all the douchebaggery). I asked the bartender to make me something that would make me be able to tolerate a bunch of drunk girls at a bachelorette party. He asked if I wanted a bottle with a straw. I thought about it, but decided on a chocolate martini instead. I eavesdropped on the slightly-past-their-prime couple sitting next to me, who were discussing the art of "spinning." You know what I'm talkin' about. Spinners? Well, if you don't, then I can't help you. Go read a Bible or something.
So in stumbles my friend, who is incredibly sweet and kind and generous and I love her to pieces but goodlordinheaven was I ever not in the mood to do the whole drunk-girl-bachelorette-party thing. Her friend, the soon-to-be-bride, stopped by and thanked me for the itinerary (for however much they may have utilized it, I'll never know), and I politely (I hope?) told my friend that I hate that fucking club and I was going to finish my drink and go home. She gave me a big smile that said "Good 'cuz no one wants to deal with your bitchy buzzkill ass anyway" and then trotted off to the club. I sincerely do hope she had fun.
And that was my Saturday. Funny how much things can change in a year, isn't it? One thing about doing the whole nightlife coverage professionally thing for a good 8 months is that it made me never want to participate in anything remotely nightlife-related ever again.
For example: Earlier that same day I got a call from a friend at around 1:30 in the afternoon. She was already drunk, and wanted me to go to Crave the next night with her (one doesn't have anything to do with the other but I found it worth noting that she was already drunk). I don't know if it was the waning moon, the PMS, the knowledge that I had to open the next morning, an overarching sense of perpetual exhaustion, rattled nerves, lack of patience, or just plain getting old, but without batting an eye I said "Oh dear God no."
I always knew I would be a cranky old person. I just never thought it would happen so early.
I also found my first grey hair a few months (2?) back. That or my hair is turning platinum blonde all on its own. Ouch. Getting old sucks.
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