Misadventures of the Village Idiot #73

It turned out to be a rather decent weekend after getting off to a slow start.

Friday
I stayed up all night watching disaster movies.  For whatever reason, I was in the mood for death and destruction.  Even though most of those movies are never that great.  I just like them for their special effects and sheer stupidity.  I stayed up so late on Friday that I had to force myself to get out of bed for my scheduled overtime.

Saturday
It was a messy day.  Raining most of the day, tornado warnings and whatnot.  My dad wanted to go out to eat but after he heard there was a potential for severe storms, he changed his mind.  I did a few hours at the office and then laid in bed most of the day, for some much needed rest.  It’s been a long time since I was able to just lay up in bed and do absolutely nothing.

That evening I was invited to a birthday get together for one of the Lunkheads.  Me and SF went down to DC to this place called Muse Lounge.  It was actually quite fun.  They had merengue and salsa music, so we got our Latin dance on for a little while.  Big Baby Jesus really went all out for his closest friend’s birthday.  We had VIP, champagne, ciroc, drinks out the wazzoo, cupcakes, the whole works.  It was serious.  I think Lunkhead could really care less but he is always really chill about everything.

I liked the place, mainly because it was not overly crowded.  They did not play salsa music all night long, they had a very good mix of reggaeton, euro dance beats and pop music.  Everybody was having a good time.  This is a place where people come to dance.  They are not looking for drama.  They are not standing around staring in each other’s face.  It was funny.  Me and SF went upstairs to the area that had more of a hip-hop theme.  They were all just standing there diddy-boppin’ with their drinks in their hand.  These are people that just want to look at each other.  They don’t want to dance.  They don’t want to party.  We went back downstairs and hung out there.

Sunday
Sunday we went out with the Lunkheads again to brunch at the Front Page in Arlington.  I’ve been to Front Page before, but the one in DC.  It’s pretty much the same, and it’s hard to mess up breakfast food.  They had an omelet station, a waffle station and some other stuff in those tureen things.  We sat in there for three hours, stuffing ourselves, talking about weirdos we met in basic training and our hopes for this deployment.  Everybody is ready to make some changes in their lives.

I got home so late in the afternoon that I really didn’t have time to do much else.  I got a six mile run in and then I crashed out.  I was so drained from those activities that I ended up doing only a half day at work on Monday.  I had other things I needed to accomplish so I guess it all worked itself out.

I also spent the weekend putting some plans together.  I know that I’ve been talking and talking, but the time for talking is over.  It is time for action.  I will not speak on it again until I actually do it and then I can tell you about what I’ve done.

Misadventures of the Village Idiot #72

The weekend got off to a rocky start.  I was desperately ill starting Thursday night.  I left work early to get some rest but I refused to believe I was sick.  I even tried to go out and run six miles.  I drove out to the lake and then I was like, you’re nuts, and turned back around and went home.  I was in bed by 6PM.

Friday
I got up to go to work on Friday and I knew that I wasn’t going to make it.  I called out and stayed in bed for most of the day.  I watched a few of the Netflix movies I had piling up, but for the most part, I was asleep.

Saturday
Saturday morning I meant to get up and make up some hours at the job, but I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed just yet.  The Lunkheads invited me out with them and at first I was going to cancel because I was still feeling poorly but I hate just laying in bed doing nothing.  I felt better after showering and washing all that sickness away.

We went to the Newseum.  It was lame, but then it wasn’t.  I guess I was not in the mood for something educational.  What is news?  Reading newspapers, watching news reports and listening to news radio programs.  Not in the mood for all that.  It was a giant four floor place with newspapers and TVs with old news reports.  The 9/11 exhibit, the Katrina exhibit and the Berlin Wall exhibit were the only things that really captured my attention.  Everything else was kind of dry.  Especially the room that had drawers full of newspapers going back to the 1500s.  Yeah, I could have done without that.

Instead of actually paying attention to the Civil Rights exhibit, I was tweeting to SF and Maq.  That’s how interesting it was.  Lunkhead got bored before I did, but Big Baby Jesus insisted that we go to each floor and look at every single exhibit.  Yeah…. not really feeling that.  We eventually did talk him out of it, and decided to go on to The Source, this restaurant by Wolfgang Puck.

The place was pretty good.  It’s one of those restaurants where you pay $100 for something that looks like an hors d’oeuvre, that leaves you starving 15 minutes later.  Luckily, it was tapas style so you could keep ordering a bunch of the small plates.  I liked the food and I’d eat there again, but I will make a reservation.  They only seat you at the table by reservation.  Everyone else has to sit at this community high table or at the bar.  We went at a time that it was not crowded but I bet in the dinner hour that place would be packed (it’s small in there) and all those people smashed around a community table with eight mini tapas plates all over the place.  That would get old fast, but you know, that is fine dine for you.  Posh if you can afford it, and a nightmare for the peasantry.

We parted ways after the restaurant, only to meet back up again later that night at the Arlington Cinema’N’Drafthouse.  I had always wanted to go to that place and I’m glad I got the chance. It’s like a place that serves full meals in the movie theatre, not just popcorn and nachos.  We didn’t see a movie, but a comedy show:  Tim Meadows.

Sorry, Tim, you are not funny.  Not funny at all.  I mean, he wasn’t boring.  I did not fall asleep on him and I did get a few laughs, but he wasn’t hysterical.  I did not die laughing.  I would not suggest to my friends to go see him.  We had a good time though.  Sometimes you just need to be out among friends.  It doesn’t really matter what you’re doing.

Sunday
I spent Sunday trying to get my mind right.  I did go into work to make up those hours, and then I was supposed to go hiking afterward.  That was an epic fail.  I drove all the way out to what was supposed to be a sneaker hike only to find a nasty wet bog.  I took one step in the mess and my foot got all wet.  Nah, no thanks.  I went back home.  Then I tried to go running and that was also an epic fail.  I was starving.  So I went home to eat instead.

I ate the leftover oxtails and noodles I had from The Source.  Then I ate some lemon cake I got from the Amish market.  I did go for a walk but that was about it for the rest of the day.  I laid in bed and watched Wall Street 2:  Money Never Sleeps.  It was okay, but I think I wasn’t smart enough to really understand it.  Too bad I don’t have the brains to be an investment banker.  They start out at like $300,000.  Must be fucking nice.

The weekend did not really go as planned, but I guess there is a reason for everything.  I think I am tired of dealing with flaky people and their lame, tried excuses.  I keep saying that it is time to expand my horizons.  I need to stop saying that and actually just do it.

But it’s Monday now and it’s supposed to be 85 degrees today.  I am definitely sneaking out of here a few minutes early so I can get warm.

Misadventures of the Village Idiot #66

Two great weekends in a row?  What’s going on here!  It was an absolutely fantastic weekend.  Why can’t I live a life where I do nothing but dine out and shop my life away?  Of course, how will I be able to afford all that if I quit my job. I  haven’t figured that part out yet, but I’m working on it.

Friday
You know the drill, go into work early so I can get off early.  Did my shopping and then headed home for a quick power nap before heading over to Maq’s.  It was restaurant week in Baltimore and we decided to go to Fogo de Chao since it would be a reduced price.  If you are a starving carnivore this is the place to go.  I think we definitely ate our $35.11 worth.  Actually, more like $60 worth of meat.  I was entirely stuffed with meat.

Hmmm……. that sounded a little obscene.

We were not able to procure reservations but we did arrive early enough that the dinner rush hadn’t quite started yet.  An hour later, after top sirloin, bottom sirloin, garlic steak, filet mignon, sizzling lamb chops and chargrilled chicken, and don’t forget the smoked salmon, the shitake mushrooms and the beets (Maq, not me), I was S.T.U.F.F.E.D.  It didn’t even make no sense.  Oh yeah, and I poured a glass of wine on top of all that and Maq had a …. some kind of drink that I cannot spell.  With restaurant week a dessert was included and sad to say that I had to take my shoes off just to eat the dessert.  Okay, no I’m playing but my stomach was finished.  It was a mess.

Since it was early there was really no point in going home so we decided to go to Arundel Mills to catch a movie.  I had been dying to see Black Swan since it came out.  It’s been winning all these awards, the reviews are all crazy (in a good way) so I really, really wanted to see it.

What a freakin’ mind trip!  It was good, but it was trippy.  I felt like I should have been high to understand it.  Natalie Portman can sometimes be annoying in movies but this one… it suited her perfectly.  The one thing I didn’t get…. well, I won’t ruin it for you.  You need to see it.  At the end of the movie, Maq and I were like… what?  What just happened?  I think that Nina’s (Natalie Portman’s character) problem was that she didn’t eat enough meat.  Those ballet chicks are SCRAWNY!!!

Saturday
I got up early Saturday to do a quick workout before heading down to Annapolis to meet the Lunkheads for the Polar Bear Plunge.  You know, I really started to chicken out on this.  When I woke up to hit the gym it was freezing out and I was like, I’m gonna jump in some ice cold water?  Yeah, I don’t think so.  I was trying to think of a good enough excuse so they wouldn’t ask me a whole bunch of questions.  I had no excuse except that I was scared, but I ended up going.  Thankfully, it wasn’t as bitter cold as it was like two weeks ago when it was like eight degrees outside, but it still 25 degrees is cold enough.

You know what I discovered?  That people are fucking crazy.  To walk around the event, I wore a t-shirt, a sweatshirt and a light jacket.  I had on my jogging pants plus my army shorts.  I don’t own a bathing suit and I wasn’t going to buy one just for this event.  A t-shirt and some shorts is good enough.  Other people?  Well, they were in various stages of undress.  I saw one woman in nothing but a bikini.  No shoes.  No jacket.  Nothing else but a bikini.  I saw many guys walking around in shorts.  We saw a crew of guys wearing jean short cut offs.  They reminded me of 1980s George Michael.  I saw some guy walking around in bunny pajamas.  Seriously.  This isn’t the part where you get into the water.  This is the little fair that’s associated with the event.  Put some fucking clothes on.

Even though the event is alcohol free, you can’t tell me these people were not high or drunk, or some combination of both.  There’s no way you walk around on snowpacked ice without shoes on and you don’t feel shit.

So the actual jumping into the water….. They have these heated tents where you get changed.  I stayed in there long as possible because once I took my sweatshirt off, I was freezing!!  I wore some old sneakers because I couldn’t walk around on that frozen ass sand.  There was still snow and ice all over the beach.  I went outside to meet the Lunkheads.  They had on cutoff t-shirts and shorts.  They also had their shoes on.  But there were many people who weren’t wearing shoes.  Crazy.

They do a countdown to jump into the water.  5!  4!  3!  2!  1!  I ran into that water so fast, splashed around for about six seconds and then ran back out to the heated tent.  You would have thought I was some kind of Olympic sprinter I was running so fast.

That water was so cold…. so cold in a way that I cannot describe.  You want to slap somebody it’s so damn cold.  My feet became immediately numb.  My legs started to cramp up.  When I was running back to the tent I couldn’t even feel anything.  My shoes, of course, were completely soaked through.  The tents had these warming things and I stood in front of one so I could get the feeling back into my lower half.  I only ran into the water up to my waist.  Some people dunked their whole body in but I am not that tough.  I freely admit that and there’s no shame in that!

My feet were so frozen that even though I had dried them I had difficulty trying to put them into the other pair of shoes I brought.  That shit was absolutely fucking crazy.  Would I do it again?  I might.  It was an experience, I can say that.  It’s for charity.  My friend Kay asked me what does all this prove.  It don’t prove anything except that people are crazy but you know… you only live once and I now appreciate having hot running water and a warm bed and a fireplace to go back to, because if I were homeless… of course, if I were homeless I wouldn’t be jumping into the cold ass ocean but still… you get my point.

I came home to soak up to my neck in the bathtub.  I put in one of those Lush bath bombs.  I’m not impressed and I’m glad I only bought two of them.  My skin is super soft but I like bubbles in my bathwater.  At that point I was just trying to get warm so who cares about all that?

I laid in bed the rest of the evening.  I had a date with Debonair again.  Where did we go?  Fogo de Chao.  I swear to God I don’t want to see anymore meat until February 2013.  We had a good time though.  Another friend of ours came out with us.  I definitely did not eat as much as I did when I was with Maq.  That’s just crazy.  Debonair and I decided that we need to chill on the meat thing so the next time we dine out, we are going for seafood.  LMAO.

Sunday
I was going to spend the day laying in bed but Maq called me early in the morning to say that she had overslept church and that she wanted to go shopping.  See, that’s what you do.  You sleep on Jesus and then shop.  Hahahah.

We drove out to Potomac Mills just for something different.  So, yeah, I spent a shitload of money.  In addition to no more meat, let’s just say no more shopping until May 2012.  I know I can’t hold out that long but damn, I put a dent in it.  I actually did not buy that much but for a person who really only intended to pick up a few belts and maybe some cosmetics, that is why I say I spent too much.

So, let’s see… I spent like $40 on accessories in Forever 21.  You know how cheap their jewellery is so you know $40 in accessories is a fucking fortune.  So Maq likes cosmetics.  SF likes quack doctors.  I like accessories.  I have 12 pairs of the same earrings.  Four rings that look exactly alike.  A shit ton of necklaces that I never wear but yet I keep buying them.  Don’t get me started on bracelets.  I put them on with my outfit and then take them off as soon as I get to work because I can’t stand them clacking on the desk.  Sad.

I bought belts.  I bought cosmetics.  I even bought Starbucks, and I stopped drinking coffee years ago for the precise reason that I was spending too much money on coffee.  I even bought Crocs.  (I had to come back to add this.  I can believe I forgot about the Crocs.) When we first came into mall, we came in through Forever 21 and went left.  The mall seemed kind of lame to me but as we were headed back towards Forever 21 to leave, we realised there was so much more mall to the right that we had not explored.  The plan was to walk all the way down and then come back.  We saw some accessories store, but their shit was too expensive.  We have decided that we are going to Security Mall in a few weeks so we can go to the cheap ghetto accessory store.  Then we saw the Crocs store.  So, I think Crocs are very comfortable, but they are faddish and expensive for no reason.  You know I am not the type of person to buy into every fad that comes to town.  We went into the store because we saw a sign that said, “Buy one, get one half off.”  Maq always wanted some Crocs but she wasn’t going to pay full price.  So we go into the store, not only are they having this buy one, get one half off, they are also having some additional sale where some of the Croc styles were 50 per cent off.  When we were in Florida, we both wanted a pair of Crocs but they were like $35.00 and I said no because it just seemed stupid to me.  Hahah.  So glad I practised restraint because the one that I wanted so on sale plus the buy one, get one half off, me and Maq split that, so I paid $10 for my Crocs.  Nice.

But that wasn’t even the kicker.  The real kicker was the fucking Coach store.

*sighs*

Maq says, let’s go in Coach.  I agree because I never buy anything out of Coach.  I usually wait until I go to New York and buy a very good knockoff.  Coach is overpriced and most of their handbags look like soccer mom bags.  But Coach was having some kind of inventory sale.  Everything in the store was on sale and then on top of that they had an additional 30% off.  It was a feeding frenzy in that place.  I was wondering why there were so many people in there, but then I realised I could buy a bag for 80% off.  It was a zoo.  Women were digging through bags like they were digging for gold.

I found two bags I wanted but you know how I am about spending large sums of money on shit I don’t even need.  I already have a suitcase full of bags I don’t carry.  I have a Christian Dior that still has the tags on it.  I have two Louis V bags and four Prada bags.  Do I need a Coach bag?  No.  Did I buy one?  Yes.

But not the one I wanted.  This woman…. she was carrying around my bag trying to decide if she wanted it.  If you want the bag buy it, if you don’t put it down so someone else can!  I really wanted that bag and it was to the point that I did not even care how much the bag was.  Maq and I hung out in the store as long as possible but that woman would not put the bag down and she did not get in the line either.  I finally settled on a blue bag.  Seriously, I might consider taking it back because I really do not need another fucking bag. I  also think I just bought a bag because Maq bought one.  Then I think I liked it because I had blue hair and the bag was blue.  If I feel the urge to carry it I’ll keep it but so far it’s just sitting on the floor.

After the Coach store feeding frenzy we left.  I was tired after all that.  I went home and got some Chinese food.  I emailed Debonair for the rest of the afternoon while watching Twilight for the first time.  Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy because I never saw the movie and so I just decided to see what the hype is about.  I feel dumber for having wasted two hours and five minutes on this drivel.  It was so poorly acted.  Kristen Stewart was great in Panic Room and other films but Twilight it’s like who wrote this crap.

Why does Robert Pattinson look ill?  Why does the other vampire Cullen look like a deer in the headlights.  Why is Kristen Stewart’s mouth open through the whole movie?  Why was the Spanish girl trying to go out with the Asian guy who was obviously gay?  Was I this angsty as a teenager?  Why did she get so obsessed within five minutes of meeting him?  Why is this movie so bad but yet so many people love it?

I can’t answer these questions.

I stayed up kinda late talking to Debonair, and now I’m suffering for it. I ended up having weird dreams about vampires.  I don’t know what that means.

Misadventures of the Village Idiot #42

It has been a very random past couple of weeks.  I cannot believe that March has already come and gone.  Why does it seem like the beginning of the year goes by so quickly?  The first four or five months will whizz by, but the latter part of the year seems to stagnate.  I guess it has to do with the perception of time.

March has been a very interesting month.  I was just getting my mind wrapped around the fact that I would be sent on an exotic mission to Omicron Persei 8 when I received an email from Starfleet Command rescinding our orders.  I had mixed feelings about the whole thing in the first place.  On one hand, I am really not interested in fighting somebody else’s war.  I know what raising my right hand to the military means, and I will do my duty to the fullest, but I had ulterior motives that didn’t involve being exiled to locations unknown.  I also did not want to leave behind family and friends, to be stuck on foreign soil where I can’t even get egg foo young.  But then, I was eager to go because of the experience I would be afforded.  I would be in a foreign land, the birthplace of civilisation.  I would also be fulfilling family honour and tradition.  Believe it or not, that sort of thing is important to me.  I guess that’s the Klingon side of me that recognises such lofty feelings as loyalty and courage, everything the Army espouses.  I think I would feel greatly ashamed if I manage to make it through my entire Army commitment without being deployed once while other people have gone two and three times.

When they told us we weren’t going, it seemed a little bit anti-climactic.  It’s like, “Okay, now what?”  And nobody really seems to have a clue.  Most of our training was cancelled, but I was still forced to attend one class.  I was off my regular job so I could stand around in the hot glaring sun for a week with my least favourite person in the entire universe.  I do realise that 65 degrees is not all that hot, but when there is no shade, no wind and you’re just standing there, you might as well be on the surface of the sun.  The only good thing that came out of the entire fiasco was that I lost a pound and a half.  I also got a chance to help out a friend who really needed somebody to be his friend in a world where it seemed like everyone else was screwing him over.

That is what prompted the random barbecues, the staying out till all hours in the middle of the work week and even going down to the Baltimore Harbour just for a few laughs.  Sometimes you have to do things for people because they really need it.  For a few days, I did not mind having my private sanctuary invaded by the masses.  Although I did do a deep spring cleaning the week after.

Now it’s warm again, I have been partying a lot, but I’ve noticed that my favourite hangout spot has changed dramatically.  I think it’s time for me to find a new haunting ground.  I’ve gone out to Midnight three times this month and all three times, I just didn’t have a good time.  One time I did because I brought my friends with me and they made up for the lack of entertainment in the club, but the other two times… I have no idea what is going on.

Because Midnight allows 18 and up, it is quickly becoming a teen hang out.  I noticed that most of the patrons were under 21.  You can tell because the big black X is so prominent on the backs of their hands.  Normally, I wouldn’t be bothered by this, but there are so many of them and they don’t dance, or do anything of use, but slink around in the corner sucking each other’s faces and clog up the back hallway.  Occasionally, they pop out onto the dance floor, so they can rave dance in a circle, and it’s all incredibly annoying.  I think I’m just getting old.  Hahah. I still like to party but the way in which I like to party is changing.

The demographics have also changed.  The club has become black gay night.  This is not a gay-bash, so let’s not even go that route, but most of the new faces are young black lesbians.  They come in groups with bad hair and worse clothing.  Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you have to look like that.  Please take a shower and do something about that head.  It’s like the furries disappeared and Aqua Teen Hunger Force took over.  I think I might start going down to Spellbound at Recessions instead, where only 21+ is allowed.  That doesn’t guarantee the crowd will be more mature, but it’s a start.

And then I met this random guy who offered to buy me a drink.  Naturally, I refused because I don’t really drink alcohol and then he offered to buy me something non-alcoholic.  I actually did not want anything and he said, “It’s no strings attached.  You don’t even have to talk to me.”  That was kind of sad.  Gone are the days when a girl could accept a drink from a guy and have a nice chat.  I feel sorry for people everywhere.  This world has become so criminally insane that normal people cannot trust other normal people because we can’t make a determination if they’re normal or not.

He was just some guy, sitting in a club, looking a little lonely.  Had this been the 1950s or something, I would have easily accepted a non-alcoholic beverage, chatted the guy up for a minute or two and then went on my merry way.  Nowadays, a person has to consider all sorts of things.  “Who is this guy and why does he want to buy me a drink?”  “Is he a lunatic?  Is he trying to slip me the date rape drug?”  “Why is he sitting there by himself like that, he’s probably a serial killer.”   And really he is just some guy who wants to buy a nice girl a drink and that’s it.  Unfortunately, as a single girl in the world, I just can’t take that chance.  Hell, not even being a single girl, just being a person because there are so many lunatics and weirdos out there, it takes too long to separate them from the good ones.  Most of us don’t even waste our time anymore, so we chalk everybody up to being a psycho.

If I had been thinking properly, I should have Maced him in the face just for even asking.  “Don’t you know it’s a war out there?  Trust no one!”  But I remember that I am out of Mace because I used it on a guy at the ATM one night, a guy who just wanted to holla at me.  Or so he said.  He was probably the Beltway Sniper’s second cousin or something.

That’s just sad.

So, anyway, last night, the last night in March, I had trouble sleeping.  I ran almost six miles earlier in the day and my body was physically exhausted.  I poked around on the internet for a little while, then watched this movie Across the Universe, which is now in my top ten list of favourite movies, and I felt for sure that I was sleepy enough to get in bed.  Instead, I tossed and turn the entire night, thinking about something that isn’t really all that important.  It’s funny how little things get to you.  I realise that I am still letting certain situations control me.  No matter how far we come in life, there’s always something there to remind you.

It really is time to close the book on certain things.

Misadventures of the Village Idiot #39

This was a pretty good weekend.  I actually got out and did some things.  It’s so nice to do that and not be stuck in the house bored senseless all the time.

Friday
When I came from work Friday evening, I did my shopping at the Amish market like usual, then I came home to veg on the couch.  I didn’t go to the Chinese buffet like I normally do, mostly because the kid is in trouble with me and I don’t think I should take him out to dinner while he’s being an asshole.  He was completely shocked though.  He thought I was playing with him.  He was like, “Whatever, we always go to the buffet.”  Yeah, imagine his surprise when I warmed up a plate of hearty leftovers for him, then I went out and brought back some sushi for myself.  Try me and see.

After making him clean his room 12 times in a row, I relented and allowed him to watch a movie with me.  It was too cold Friday night to be bothered about going out.  I keep  meaning to check out Eclipse in Baltimore, but something just tells me I’m finished with the whole Baltimore situation.  I would rather lay on the couch and watch U-571 like that’s a film that needs to be repeated.  It’s horrible, I know, but I just like things where you blow up stuff.

Saturday
I left the kid in the firm clutches of Playstation and I took myself off to the mall to shop my life away.  Actually, I was quite well-behaved.  I only bought an eyeshadow and a pair of shoes.  SF went with me.  I’m now hired on as her personal stylist, and I’m very glad to help because the poor thing is just… le sigh… how can words even describe?  If I had her figure, oh man, I told her I would be such a slore.  That’s probably why God made me dumpy-waisted, because he knows I would act a fool if I had a body like that.  I wouldn’t want be a midgetina like she is, but I can go for a teeny ass waist.

We did Columbia, but sometimes you really need those ghetto-fabulous stores for just the right touch.  We wound up going up to the Toilet–I mean, Baltimore.  Security, no less.  Excuse me Se-CURR-ity.  I have to pronounce it the Baltimore way.  SF took me into some store called Last Stop and that was an amusement in and of itself.  I was in moderate goth and of course, SF is completely normal.  The urban guys were amused by us, probably because when we first came into the store they were playing, “Bitch, Look At My Wrist,” I swear to God that’s the title of the song.  Oh wait, no, I’m wrong.  The song is called, “Bitch, I’m the Shit.”

*sighs*  This is why I have a complex.

At any rate, when we came into the store, I was like… oh my God.  They let you play something like that in the store?  Then the guy wanted SF to try on clothes just so he could look at her body.  He picked out this hideous red dress.  “Yeah, you should try that on,” he says leeringly.  The dress was truly hideous.

And I’m sensing a horrific fashion trend.  So I see that the military look is coming into fashion, and that’s all right with me because I like that militant look, but naval fashions?  Yeah… I don’t think so.  The guy in the store wanted me to try on this weird ass sailor suit thing that made me think of something a trophy wife would wear whilst sailing with her aging husband in the Martha’s Vineyard regatta.  I was like, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

After the mall, we hit up Barefoot Shoes and then headed home where I know the kid was starving.  I thought he would be, but apparently he was so wrapped up in Playstation he didn’t even realise that I had left in the first place.  Sike.  He was appeased, however, by the appearance of McDonald’s.  I almost never allow him to eat such things so he was too busy shoving French fries down his throat to be annoyed with me.

I took SF to Midnight with me.  I think she had a good time. She says she wants to come back with me.  I may turn her over to the dark side yet!  Because of her, more people talked to me that night than anybody ever has the entire seven years I’ve been going there.  I was amazed, and I knew it had to do with her presence more so than mine.  I’m anti-social and purposely put people off from even speaking to me. 

The reason I made her go with me was because the bellydancer was there, Asala.  She was quite talented and now I want to take belly dancing classes so I can look cool with a sword on my head too.  There was this guy there, he was such an asshole.  He wasn’t even a professional photographer.  He had a blackberry camera and he was all up in her face taking pictures.  Lots of people were taking pictures, but they weren’t jumping on stage with her.  It was like he was the paparazzi, but the thing was, he wasn’t the photographer.  It was just annoying.  There always has to be one.

Sunday
I was assed out tired from Saturday night.  I stayed out much later than I normally do.  But me, SF and Waders were supposed to go into Baltimore to have a free dinner at the expense of McCormick and Schmick’s.  It was because of the Veteran’s Day thing.  Every year a few restaurants will give us a free meal, and that’s always nice.  Usually it’s at Golden Corral but even free, Golden Corral doesn’t really do it for me. 

We had a nice time, enjoyed an expensive dinner.  Even though the main course was free, we still ordered drinks and desserts and appetisers.  Plus, I had the kid with me so my bill was like $50.  A mess.

And SF, I need you to be on time.  I sent out 200 emails saying that you need your military ID, yet you forgot your military ID.  What is going on here?  I like giving people a hard time, so Waders, next time we plan something, you’re butt better be there!!!

 

How Do They Goth in Chicago Illinois?

As I have mentioned on numerous occasions I try very hard to hit up freak clubs when I go out of town.  Chicago boasted several clubs but after a perusal of the websites I decided on Bedlam Saturdays.  Ceciley, a normal person, has never been to a goth club before and I didn’t want to bring her to one that would be over the top.  One club page I went to looked like it catered to the more neo Nazi crowd so I decided to skip that one.

The Night:
Bedlam Saturdays at Club Neo.
Saturdays 1000-400am
I can’t remember if it was 18+ or 21+, but they are very strict about ID.  Some old ass woman apparently lost her ID at another bar but  they wouldn’t let her in even though she clearly looked 40.
$5 cover
The bar takes CASH ONLY.

The Location:
2350 N. Clark Street

Parking:
I took a cab but I did notice plenty of street parking.

The Ambience:
Not really much to say on this category.  The door check is outside, in an alley type location.  When you come in, it looks like an extra large bar.  There were plenty of places to sit.  We arrived early and it wasn’t particularly crowded but it started to get heavy around midnight.  Chicago clubs are generally open until at least 5am, but we didn’t stay that late.  I don’t know how long the crowd stays heavy like that.

It was sufficiently dark within the club.  There were some neon lights and an annoying smoke machine.  I believe that smoking is not allowed in Chicago bars, clubs and restaurants.  I don’t even recall seeing that many people in the city smoke at all, except for the tourists.

The bathroom looked like a back alley where prostitutes are murdered.  At first I was scared to go in.  There were these dark stairs and the men’s bathroom door was open and I peeked inside only to be reviled by a horrid smell that made me think of embalming fluid and corpses.

Drinks, Special Events and Vendors:
We didn’t drink so I’m not sure, and I didn’t see any place where a vendor would even be able to set up.  Not sure about special events.  When I was reading their website, I didn’t get the impression they featured bands or anything of that nature.

The Dancefloor:
Terrible.  It was like some kind of boards nailed into the ground unevenly.  Some of the boards were bubbled so when you stepped on them they popped.  The corners of the boards were sticking up and some were unevenly laid, leaving plenty of room for someone to trip.  The floor was spacious enough for a good sized crowd to dance on, but it was hard to dance because you couldn’t slide without fear of catching your foot.

The Crowd:
I don’t even know where to begin with this.  The crowd was very mixed.  It didn’t seem sufficiently goth or freakish to me.  There seemed to be a lot of normal people, even a few yuppies.  The gay quotient was high, the openly gay quotient was very high.  I don’t have a problem with gay people, but I have a problem public displays of affection… all public displays of affection, gay or straight.  People fondling one another in plain view is disturbing to me.  There was like a drunken bi-gay orgy going on behind us that was getting out of control.  Both Ceciley and I were uncomfortable with their shenanigans.

I had a polite conversation with a lady named Deborah in the bathroom/crime scene.  She struck me as very “normal” like she was an accountant or a paralegal or something.  And no, not just a random woman wearing black, but like a regular everyday non-freak person.  I commented to Ceciley that some of the people in the club made me think of people who were freaks as a teenager or young adult but had to go normal for work or whatever.  They missed the music so they put on whatever dark clothes they could find and came to the club.

After viewing this, some comments I read on another freak website started making sense to me.  There is a club called Exit and it described itself as a club for real freaks, not just a freak night at a regular club.  The words seemed kind of loaded and I wondered if that comment was directed at Neo which appears to be a freak night at a regular club where normal people would feel comfortable.  Neo advertised itself as a place that normal people could hang out while Exit described itself as a place for freaks and freaks alone.  They both have freak nights on Saturdays, but I don’t know how far in location these clubs are from each other, and if they are in real direct competition.

What was particularly annoying to me was they way they dance.  Not all aware of other people and their space.  So apparently Michael Flatley brought his girlfriend Colleen O’Shaughnessy to the club and they were doing the gothic river dance with each other but they were so rude about it because they were taking up half the dance floor.  If they were actually good, then it would have been no problem.  I could have sat and watched, but they were terrible.  No rhythmn.  A lot of extravagant nonsensical kicking all over the place.  Just a hot mess.  Then there was Woman in a Red Dress Stuck in a Time-Space Continuum Loop.  Ceciley pointed out to me that she was doing the exact same dance over and over again.  When I started watching, she really was.  She had 5 or 6 moves that she repeated in the same sequence over and over and over and over.  If I didn’t know any better I would have thought I was watching some continuous loop of a dancing doll or something.

Germane to most goth clubs there were slutty girls trying to dance sexy to hard core music, covens of lesbian co-eds dancing idiotically with each other, the usual thrashers and romantically gay (and I don’t mean sexual orientation gay) couples smoozing each other to Ministry.  That’s another thing, there seemed to be an awful lot of couples dancing in this club.  I guess Dulce Liquido doesn’t make me want to snuggle up with my boo on the dance floor, call me crazy, but there was a lot of that and they seemed to be fixated only on themselves and running into other people.  It was extremely annoying.

How Do They Dress:
This is not a glam spot.  I wanted to take Ceciley to a place where she could see goth glam and how some freaks really dress up in all their dark finest when they come out.  I was trying to explain to her about Transmuter boots and pony falls with wiring and kanekelon fibres.  I wanted to show her expensive corsets and dominatrix divas in super high platform heels.  She doesn’t know about the breakdown of the freak crowd, you know, cyber Goths, rivetheads, punks, emo, etc, and I just really wanted to give her a taste of the alternative freak life.

Neo was not such a place.  In fact, I would have to say this is one of the worst dressed group of people  I have ever come across.  I saw sports jerseys, sports jackets, yuppie attire, white button downs and slacks.  The bi-gay orgy group behind us looked like they just stepped out of an Ambercrombie and Fitch advert.  They wore polo shirts and pressed jeans and gleaming white sneakers.  The coven of lesbians were in jeans and tanks.  There was a table of what could only be described as podiatrists having a drink at happy hour after work.

As for all the freaks, they were just regular, dark clothes, a few chain belts, some freaky hair cuts, that’s pretty much it.  Usually, you can point out the diva of every scene.  It’s painfully aware that this particular night did not have a diva, or at least one that could dress anyway.

The Music:
The music was the only saving grace.  Power noise, electro, EBM and hard industrial.  Every now and again a random favourite from back in the day.  I thoroughly enjoyed the music and danced most of the time I was there.

I’m not sure if the DJ was request friendly because I didn’t request and the DJ booth was way up high.  You had to stand on top of a table to talk to him.  I observed this when one girl got off the dance floor and jumped up onto a table to lean over the DJ booth.

Interesting Tidbits:
I found nothing that was terribly out of the ordinary.

The Best:
The music:

The Worst:
Shitty dance floor and the crowd.

On a scale of 1 to 10:
5.7 and that’s because the music gave it a strong boost.  They also got more weight because I could only stay for about an hour and a half.  Perhaps the crowd improved as the night goes on.  Perhaps it got worse.  Who knows?

Would I road trip for it:
If I went to Chicago again, I’d probably go again.  If I were a local, I’d go every now and again, but that would only be after I checked out the other club in Chicago.  There were also several clubs in Chicago suburbs that seemed worth looking into it.  Also, Chicago boasts a monthly night called Nocturna.  Apparently the DJ comes from Europe every month to spin and I heard on several forums that it’s worth the wait.  Since Chicago provides a choice, Neo would probably be last on my list.

Club vs. Club

Let’s face it: I am a party girl. Granted, I don’t party nowhere near as much as I did in my heyday, but I show no sign of giving up my nightlife anytime soon. Being a lover of all music, I can get down just about anywhere. I can have a good time because I know how to have a good time, but sometimes there’s just nothing for it.

My friends and co-workers don’t understand my affinity for goth clubs and the music. Whenever I mention something about going out for a night on the dark side, my friend Ayanna immediately puts on her best Norwegian death metal voice and starts screaming, “Satan! Satan! Satan!” Of course, I have to go through all this melodrama to dispell any weird theories about blood-fests and people worshipping the Dark Lord in creepy corners. I have dragged Ty out to several spots with me just so he can understand that it’s just like any other place except everyone is wearing black. For fun, I plan on taking Lanae and anyone else who wants to go out with me one night to either Midnight or Orpheus. I think Midnight because they will be more entertained. I told them drinks are usually cheaper in goth clubs than in hip hop clubs, and so once I said that they were all aboard.

Anyway, my reason for writing this is because I just have a bone to pick. I told my friends that I like goth clubs better than hip hop clubs. Not just because of the music, because I can only listen to hip hop for so long before I start developing tumours in my frontal lobes, but because I always wind up having a better time in goth clubs. Why is this? Every time I go to a hip hop club I have to fight men off from grabbing on my ass, trying to dance with me when I don’t want to. There’s never any place to put your coat if you bring one, so you have to check it and then stand in some long ass line at the end of the night to get the coat that you paid $5 for them to hold. There’s never anywhere to sit in a hip hop club if you get tired of dancing. It’s always crowded and never any room to dance anyway, so usually you just stand around and look at each other. You always have to go in a big group in order to have fun because hip hop clubs are usually cliquish and if you don’t know each other, no one will stop and talk to one another unless it’s some guy trying to hit on a girl or vice versa. Girls in hip hop clubs hate on each other, always sizing each other up, trying to figure out who looks better and why is she looking at my man? Guys tend to fight more in hip hop clubs. It’s always something, either in the club or in the parking lot after the club. If the club is a big club, it’s always a nightmare to find parking and then to get away from the place at the end of the night. Drinks are far more expensive in hip hop spots than in goth spots. I can just go on and on about the demerits of the hip hop club.

On the other hand, when I go to goth clubs, I am able to do the one thing I love, and that is dance. Most of the time I don’t go to mingle. I am anti-social and have no real desire to become chatty with anyone in a club. I hate trying to have conversations in clubs anyway because you have to shout, or the person is trying to talk to you and his breath stinks or whatever the case may be. But when I go to a goth club, I always have a good time. When I get tired, I can always find a seat. I can stash my coat in the corner without worrying someone is going to steal the damn thing. I can find the DJ to actually request something (somethign that’s impossible in a hip hop club, unless you know the DJ). There are no rude ass bouncers at goth clubs! I usually don’t have any problem getting in, no standing in long ridiculous lines in the freezing cold. No mad crush to get away from the spot when it’s over.

Of course, I’m complaining about the hip hop club because I had a terrible experience last night (a later post). It won’t make me stop going to one when we have this work-related gatherings, but I can still bitch. Hip hop clubs are always expensive to get in to. I paid $10, and only because I had this flyer. If I hadn’t htat, I would have paid $20 and if I got there after midnight, they were charging $60 at the door. Sixty dollars? I’m upset that you even formed your lips to say something so ridiculous. I could have changed my stiletto pumps to boots and went down the street to Midnight and I had a great time while my friends were sitting in the corner complaining about that place.

Cafe Asia

I don’t do reviews of hip hop clubs I go to, because frankly, nobody gives a damn.  But last night my co-worker Jonathan had a birthday party at this club out in DC.  First of all, I hate clubbing in DC because it’s always a trial.  You can never just get up and go and have a good time.  You have to worry about the right outfit, the right shoes, because you know your ass is going to be standing.  Parking is always a nightmare because DC is always so ridiculous.

Anyway, a whole troupe of us went down and we had to stand outside to get into the place.  John gave us these flyers so it would be a specific price, but they weren’t, at first, going to allow us to use it, and I draw the line at paying $20 to get in.  Unless you are giving me breakfast and free drinks (even though I don’t drink) I’m not interested!  So we finally get in there.  The place is really a restaurant, and it’s sizeable but still, it’s a little too crowded for my preference.  The guy says he can get us into VIP which was nothing but some table in a dark corner far away from the dance floor.  We gave up the option and wound up posting up in the corner downstairs.  Everyone was nicely dressed and immediately I could tell it’s one of those places where you dress up in your Sunday best and stand around and look at everyone.

Why I hated the place:
There was no real dance floor.  They put up some stage with a drum on it and had these anorexic skinny girls modelling bathing suits.  Okay, it’s January and this is a club why is there a fashion show going on?  The music at first was terrible.  I know I’m getting up there in years, but I don’t want you to play the songs that were popular when I was conceived!  We were just sitting down staring at each other.  I was thinking how I could have been home laying in my bed, stuffing my face, and watching Harry Potter!  Finally, the music started to pick up, music from this decade at least.  But horror of horrors, they had a live drummer, drumming on top of the music that was already coming from the stereo system.  Why?  DC is big on the go-go music which sounds like pots and pans to me, and I was annoyed and then it was so loud I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts.  The worst was when the girl got up on stage and starting singing over top Beyonce’s newest song.  She was a terrible singer and I kept thinking, if I wanted a karaoke night I would have went down to some bar somewhere.  She sang to every song that had a female singer and it was just too much for me.  Every one who tried to get a drink told me that the drinks were expensive for no reason, hardly any liquour in them and I felt bad because I know people like to drink when they club and it wasn’t worth it.  When John finally shows up, way after us, we told him how mad we were.  Turns out, he doesn’t really have any sway there, he’s just having his party there.  When I go to hip hop clubs, I like to look at men (meat, as Shandra calls them) but there were none to be had.  It was a bitch-fest!  Mad girls everywhere.  When I’m in a place like that I just sit my ass down somewhere and check out fashion tips.  I was trying to figure out how to wear this cute dress I had and now I know because all I did was watch fashion the whole night.  I danced maybe two songs, but it wasn’t worth it because I had on 4 inch heels and my feet were hurting.  Usually, I don’t mind because I’m having a good time, but pain for nothing?  Not worth it.

This is the last time.

People in our crew started drifting away at like 1.  Unheard of!  I never leave the club that early, but it was nothing for it.  We wound up going to Denny’s, having a way better time sitting in a booth than we were out there.

I think the general consensus is that next time we are sticking to the big clubs like Love or H20, or we are staying in Baltimore where they know how to party.

How Do They Goth in Tucson, Arizona?

Since I’m out here in Arizona, I thought I’d wander up to Tucson to see how my old college town fares.

The Night:
Club Asylum
Congress St
Saturdays, 1000-200am
18 to party, 21 to drink
$5 for 21+, free for military

The Location:
The club is on Congress St, a great location because it is mixed up with other clubs. It gives the feel that goth nights can be mainstream too and not something you find it back alleys somewhere.

Parking:
Parking is interesting because it is in a busy entertainment area. Street parking up and down the area. You may have to park further down or on a side street, but you won’t ever not find any parking. And you don’t have to pay for it either.

The Ambience:
The club is more bar than anything else. I do like the bar area, although I’m not a drinker. The sign that has the club name on the inside is interesting and provides an interesting backdrop. It’s a cozy, quaint little spot, but more suited to a lounge or a bar, and not the club. Arizona weather is usually fair, and the club has a little patio area. You can hear the music, get some fresh air, smoke a cigarette and chat it up.

There is only one bathroom per person, and sometimes you have to wait. That’s annoying.

Drinks and Vendors:
I don’t drink, so I don’t know. There is usually a vendor in the back that sells CDs, paraphernalia, t-shirts, and the like.

The Dancefloor:
The dance floor is small and in an inconvenient location. Once the place gets crowded, it becomes a high traffick area for people getting to the bar or the patio. Sometimes people stop and stand to talk and there’s not much room to dance.

The Crowd:
Sometimes there is a vague reflection of that old Fineline crowd, but young kids have taken over with a splash of curious college kids from the University that’s not too far away. I think if you are too goth you might feel out of place, so you might want to tone it down a little.

How Do They Dress?:
There’s no dress code and it shows. Sometimes it looks like people who were just wandering down teh street just happened to stop by and say hi. The crowd tended towards the black t-shirt and pants set rather then ‘gothing’ it up. AZ has always been laid back in that sense, and it’s reflected here.

The Music:
I do like the music, although it there is a liberal amount of techno-sounding rave mixed in with synthpop. I think it’s to cater to the half mainstream that wanders in sometimes. I get the sense that they don’t want to be too freekish. They don’t want to scare people who are waltzing the streets looking for something to do. Maybe that is the drawback in being in a popular location for other clubs.

Interesting Tidbits:
The front patio for fresh air.

The Best:
The patio.

The Worse:
Tendency to pull away from the dark side to accomodate ‘normal’ people

On a scale of 1 to 10:
6.1

Would I road trip for it:
Not a chance.

How Do They Goth in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania?

On a random lark, I drove down to Philadelphia to visit Nocturne at Shampoo. I had never been there before although I’ve been living up here for 4 years now. I was bored, and saw they had a night on Wednesdays, so I thought what the hell.

The Night:
Nocturne at Club Shampoo
Wednesdays, 930-200am
18 party, 21 to drink

The Location:
The club is located on Willow Street between 7th and 8th Avenues in sorta-kinda downtown Philadelphia. The website gave the worst directions ever, and I wasted an hour lost, first in Trenton, NJ, and then downtown Philadelphia. Right when I was ready to give up this futile search, I just happened to find the place.

Parking:
There was ample parking. The club is an office during the day. (Who knows?) So there is a parking lot available for the patrons and plenty of street parking. The area is well-lit so I guess you don’t have to worry about getting mugged on the way to the front door. There’s good security, too.

The Ambience:
I liked the way the club looked on the inside. It is a little confusing because they have it seperated for 18-20 and 21+ groups. If you are 21+ you go on one side and get your wrist bracelet and then go up the stairs to the dancefloor. There’s plenty of chairs to sit if you get tired and the dance floor is pretty large so you don’t have to run in to someone. They even have little stages that you can stand on and dance. The lighting was gloomy, with touches of red and neon every now and again.

Drinks and Vendors:
I don’t drink, so I don’t know. And there were no vendors.

The Dancefloor:
The dancefloor was a wooden thing, rather large. Enough room for a good-sized crowd. Only thing I didn’t like about the dance floor is that it had cracks in it where my foot kept getting caught. The floor was also filthy, but that is to be expected in a club. People tossing their beers and ciggarettes on the floor after awhile, it’s going to get nasty.

There are also different rooms. The 21+ lounge has different music going on, and there’s another area that has different music then the main dance floor. I did not get a chance to explore all of this, because I was only in the club a short amount of time, thanks to their convoluted directions.

The Crowd:
Oh, what can I say about this crowd? Well, I’ll first start out by saying it is a young crowd. Because they let 18 and up in, there’s always the risk that someone younger is going to get in. By the looks of it, I can tell they rule the majority. Everyone looked very young and you can tell it by the way they dressed. There were these three teenage looking girls sitting out front when I came up, and they were embroiled in some high school melodrama that turned me off before I could even set foot in the door. My assessment is that the clubs swings towards the young, high school gay crowd. I’m told that the club also has a gay night that is the largest in Philadelphia, so there is some spillover. When several gay bois starting clapping in time to Suicide Commando’s Hellraiser, I was convinced. Not a song I would clap to. Kill someone, yes. Clap, no. I thought maybe they were hearing “It’s Raining Men.”

I saw a smattering of glow sticks, enough to annoy me. A few young girls trying desperately to be sexy, scantily clad, gyrating on top of the boxes they have on the dance floor. It’s hard to look sexy while dancing out of tune to Soilbleed.

How Do They Dress?:
Dress. How do they dress? How do I begin to describe? Candy kids, mostly. Gay bois in candy necklaces, rave pants, pink, and fluffy stuffed animal backpacks. Girls in legwarmers, Hot Topic slippers, and plastic skirts. The crowd was mostly candy, anime cosplay, punk, and the odd white frat boy. There were not that many in true dark attire.

The Music:
Oddly enough, I liked the music. I came at the end of the evening when there was a lot of heavy industrial, EBM, and power noise. That’s what I like the most so I was in heaven.

Interesting Tidbits:
The DJ booth has a LED screen that shows what song is playing. I’ve always wanted to see this, so if you hear a song you like that you don’t know, well, now you know!

The Best:
The decor and ambience.

The Worse:
The crowd. Too young.

On a scale of 1 to 10:
5.9

Would I road trip for it:
Hell no. I don’t think I’ll even drive from Baltimore to Philadelphia for that mess. Nice try.