"It doesn't matter if I care, karma cares!"

Ok, so I'm feeling better now.
I think karma is caring...it seemed to care this weekend, in mysterious ways.
...
Spent last friday night at Mississippi Nights.

My second time in 4 days - wasn't as good as Monday's, I didn't feel like I was on drugs. STill, how much of a band girl am I? I guess I always have been, especially in middle school when I had nothing better to do. You know how Matilda moved things with her eyes? I was like, trying to get really good CDs. This hobby, much like matilda's, faded a little after I was challenged more academically, but I still hang onto it anyway. In retrospect, I sortof wish I'd channeled that energy into concert piano, or even marathon running, perhaps even ballet, but for some reason that didn't happen (doesn't mean it won't, i'm only 23 and no longer academically challenged).

I wanted to take my 12 year old 2nd cousin, but I think she had what's known as a 7th grade mood swing brought on by too much homework, not enough sleep, and crazy cracked-out hormones. I wanted to take her away from herself for a night for some great rock music, but I think she just wanted to sleep...its sortof the same difference, though - and we have a raincheck, which I solidified with a CD of songs in french, including the entire french dubbing of The Little Mermaid. I have a feeling that her dad, my cousin, will want to get his hands on that, as he's taking french, too. Maybe I should tell him they should learn kiss the girl (embrasse-la) or Under the Sea (Sous l'ocean) and perform it for me...father-daughter bonding (always hard in middle school and on) and entertainment for me. Maybe I'll just make Dr. Scott perform Part of your world (partir la-bas) so me and Emily, his daughter, my 2nd cousin, can laugh it up.
Anyway, I ended up going to the concert not alone, which was pretty awesome, and then ended up with 3 friends and a friend's girlfriend (who's like a friend, b/c girlfriends must be included, its only right - and I've totally had some laughs with her)! Like whoa, I was expecting a solitary night of me and the music, which actually is pretty awesome, to tell the truth.
Anyway, we'll return to that later.
Ok GO was as amazing as I remember, though much more fashionable.

They once rapped to me in the street.
I do not lie.
They actually rapped to me and janna b/c we were fly ladies who were hanging out after the phantom planet concert that OK Go opened for. This concert was when phantom planet was still more popular than Maroon 5...like, throwback, y'all. Like, at the meet and greet I asked how they were doing, adn one guy said he'd give Jesse Carmicheal a hug for me...I was like, hm, not so great then. But look at'em now! I hope jesse gets some stardust, there's more to maroon 5 than Adam Levine, though he is a whole lotta delish. Anyway, OK go were tshirt and jeans kind-of-guys then. Now they like, sortof dress like Charles Dickens (which is suprisingly fetching...who am I kidding, its the opposite of suprising - I love ties, and I own a million, just about, and I would wear them like, everyday, but I feel weird dressing - every day - how I would want my boyfriend to dress - plus, I'm not K.d lang).

Their rap - which I do believe you can download off of something on the darker side of the internet - went a little like this:

Captain Kirk and Dr. Spock! WHat a lovely combination!
Boys and girls, what a lovely combination!
Diamonds and pearls, what a lovely combination!

and so on.

Janna and I swooned to their sweet sweet rhymes, and wondered, as so many girls often do - if the lead singer was gay. I think I have a bajilion things signed by them, now that I think of it, b/c it was just like, me, janna, Ok GO, and 20 14 year olds on the street that october night - the 17th, I believe...possibly the 11th...no it was Sept 10th! I remember b/c on the subway back some people were all freaking out b.c it was the anniversary of 9-11, and we were like, good concerts and life goes on.

Plus, I'd gotten to meet Max from Rushmore.

Anyway, at the post-Tale of Two Cities makeover show of OK Go, I think I literally bounced up and down for 3 hours straight.
Bitches be sore, y'all!

How can people not dance at concerts? What do they do instead?

I had a weekend of random conversation snippets with random people and it was qutie George Bailey-esque for me. One of these convos included me lamenting the lack of dancing...and I was saying that I could understand standing still with your arms crossed fpr hours in other situations, and that even I...but then i was like, hello! I never stand still with my arms crossed!
Like, I never do that. I'm too ebullient, I just am. My glee manifests itself in movement. WHy are people freaked out by that? I refuse to tone down my bubbliness -when I want to bubble, I bubble...b/c life's to serious as it is.
Back to begging the question, "why stand still at a concert?" - even at a party where I'm trying to act like I'm better than everyone else, I don't do it for longer than 3 minutes, which is under the length of even a song!
Not even at the airport....its the opposite of natural for me.
My friend agreed, and she's coming to mississippi nights with me over christmas break - I invited her mom, and I think she should come, too. Why should young people have all the fun, and get to do all the jumping?
I love that girl (her mom's cool, too), and she's so encouraging and hopeful for me, I hope I've done the same for her at some point in the 15+ years I've known her...its really only fair.
I was just thinking about how you have to be a sortof renegade if you want to be positive and do good in this world/my circle of friends/family/aquaintances, and this occured to me :
If I ever get another cat, I'm going to name it Renegade...or Captain Von Trapp. For some reason, Bubbles (my cat) just didn't seem to have the necessary countenatnce to be named Captain Von Trapp.

Anyway, found out this weekend that I turned a pal of mine onto Elvis Costello...same pal who told me a few weeks ago that I'd introduced him to Phantom Planet...may all just be a flash in the pan for that fella, but for me, i'm like, someone listened and liked it! Phantom planet, suuure, they're asy enough to love, but to continue to like elvis on a know-the-lyrics basis? I don't know, but the whole elvis thing -- a super heart-wrenching big deal. I just remember how grateful I was to have a little costello in my life - to know that I gave him to someone else, well its awesome, and I don't think what I'm saying ia a bit cheesy. I hope the albums found him at the perfect time, like they found me. It was like they were written for me the day before I listened to them, the tracks - especially from Costello's first 3 albums. I have one particularly charismatic high school teacher to thank for that.
Whatever, pat on the back for me for being awesome and not even knowing it.

I had weird dreams last night. I only remember 2/3.
Weirdest: I was like, supervising a sleepover of 9 year olds in the basement of the Kirkwood Crestwood youth theatre, and we were chatting it up about boys, make-up, etc...and there were all these guys (from my past, I think) showing up and like, oogling over my boobs, until finally one particularly rotten egg from the days of yore shows up. I end up really reading him the riot act, and then some, and he gets all mad and friend-breaks up with me b/c I was like, talking about how I liked him or something and how he was so annoying a million years ago and still is, etc... typical why are you a tool sort of girl v/s guy yelling. Anyway, I was all upset and this 9 year old made fun of me and I gave it right back to her. It was then that I realized I had no reason tobe upset, and that I'd lashed out against a 9 year old. Weird.
Weird-ish: I was at grad school at Columbia in NY, and I was trying to get to commencement. APparently, if you "turn left at the Indian" at any graduation ceremony ANYWHERE, you will get to commencement ceremonies and where you should sit. I ended up at an estrucian (an ancient people, much like mesopotamians) excavation site that used to be much more rustic (ti was in one of my other dreams, supposedly) but was now a museum of sorts. I remember remarking to I think my mom and dad, "my, how far the estrucian excavation site has come!" ANyway, it was next to this circus arena with a really pretty victorian theatre facade...i think in another dream I'd amost gotten in a fatal accident here with some circus equiptment. ANyway, it was much nicer now and there was a lot of hustle and bustle. Did I mention that Columbia univerisy was sortof located on the Greek Isles? Like, I think I saw some parthenon-esque structure on top of a hill, towards which I may've been trying to go. There were lots of roling green hills, cliffs and glistening blue seas - i know that much. I also know that I would not ask for directions, nor woud I call Liz, b/c I'd asked her for directions before and I was not about to ask again. I went to the indian a lot more times, and looking back, I think I turned right instead of left. I wasn't really worried though. And that was the end of that.

ANd I forgot the other one! But it was weird.
The break-up dream was super weird - the whole boob angle, not really getting that - but it was very emotionally weighty. Probably ties into my having been so boy-crazy this last couple of days.

I clearly need to just start exersizing again. I remember I used to be plagued by my own thoughts in New Hampshire, but then I started running 3miles every morning and it was like clarity had finally found me - all despite my wicked unrequited crush on a camp counselor with a heart of gold, I held out rather well! It felt very dramatic and romantic, trying to literally run from love that I knew wasn't chasing me.

Ok, I'm done turning phrases for the night - its been real!
~Lori

I hate weekends

You always say you're going to get something done during them, and that so seldom happens.
How did I seemingly get so much done in high school? Was it lists? Did I have a planner?
I think I need a day planner, that way, days will get planned!
Why do I worry so much about everything?

I'm beginning to hate this blog. This should explain why I'm seldom writing in it for those of you who happen to read it on the flip or the flop.

I'm sure it's only temporary - I'm pretty stressed out, as much as I don't like using that term. For not liking it, i sure use it a lot.
Anyway, a lot's been going on behind the curtains lately with job searching and overall life evaluating and other such things that we 20 something's seem to think we're entitled to do and lament over so often. I've also been really boy-crazy for the last 2 days, and I can think of one very probable reason why, but decorum prevents me from stating it here.

Hint: It starts with and H and rhymes sortof with Ramones, and I blame them for everything, and I think rightly so.

You know what? While I'm here I suppose I'll blog on about some things.
On second thought, I hate it when I think I can do that. I may as well go tell it to the hand.
Or my mom.
She always seems to agree with me, except when its about like, ok, well a lot of things.
Well, whatever. It'll all work out in the end.

My fingers hurt

I've been playing the guitar and piano a lot recently, and my fingers hurt. Perhaps its the pain that you're supposed to feel if you are a musician. I would be more inclined to think that the sort of pain musicians require is more along the lines of "oh my girl, she's gone" sort of pain, rather than, "ow, the tips of my fingers are frickin' bruised." I also had glass in my foot, and now it hurts! Damn! But none of this, of course, stopped me from going to see Marc Broussard. Might have to be equally as resolute to go see Ok Go, though I'm not as dedicated to the proposition that all their music will be life-altering as I was when it came down to a solo appearance for Marc.

Today I woke up late - too much chatting and looking at Google Earth with the buddies last night at chez Wamble. For some reason everyone was very self conscious that night- lots of "oh aren't we nerds to be discussing medival torture devices," etc... etc... this sortof sub-commentary really gets in the way of me learning that chastity belts had SPIKES on them! Ouch! Is that really necessary?
Seriously, is it? This is a terrifying side of human nature. Ugh, don't want to think about it.
Speaking of terrifying, I wore an Ann Taylor Loft outfit today, thinking I would be working there - but my shift got cut! It was rough.
I did look very professional for my internship, though. Not that it matters, as everyone seems to wear jeans. Oh you genre busting Generation Y and you're demands for flip flop appropriate dressing. Elegance is dying a slow and painful death, as my generation tightens its strangle-hold every day. Anyway, I do think I got to write 30 words about a Pink Floyd Tribute concert. Its a start. Even I'll admit that I don't have the practice to write features - yet. Though I wrote in like 3 languages everyday for 4 years, it doesn't really count for much other than being able to know your mind is well developed. And no, not over developed...those who'll tell others that their minds are overdeveloped by their snooty ivy league degrees (wharton doesn't count in this scenario, nor other business schools) are the sortof people who are making Stephen Colbert's job that much easier. I'm making unnecessarily complicated comparisons.
In light of attempting to move past 30 word nuggets of brilliance, i'm going to try to write more in this old not-a-journal piece of crap...no offence. I still can't stop hating blogs, though I just love reading my friends' and don't hate theirs at all.
Stranger things have happened.
After I came home from work my cousins and their kids came over.
Man, I just love that family.
I did my best to contribute to posterity by teaching my kindergarten cousin how to dance. He did a good job, even with the karate,break-dancing and gymnastics he would occasionally throw in. His eventual enthusiasm for dancing with me only served to reinforce my firm(er) belief that 6 year olds make the best boyfriends, like, EVER.
Anyway, it was joy, as we danced around my kitchen to, "Don't Change Horses."
Ok, I'm going to quit while I'm ahead here - my fingers hurt!

Marc Broussard - LEGIT

Hey y'all, its been a while!

I havn't been posting b/c my life got sortof mundane for a while there after I did NOT get to be the next kelly clarkson. Not yet at least. For now, its just strictly karaoke until I get (a LOT) better at guitar and piano - since none of my instrument-playing friends will ever let me sing for/with them, and for that I think, you know who you are, they are very lame - and then I'll blow some fish out of the water.

Until that day comes, I'll just go on singing Dear Diary, I'm not a Girl..., Tribute and other requests to my favorite non-instrumentalists.

Anyway, this is not what I want to talk about.

I went alone to a concert last night - something that I havn't really done since my swing dancing days (which aren't over, despite the whole foot-death thing - which is a whole 'nother story, as they say) and IT WAS AMAZING, and I don't think my life will ever be the same.

I got there late, b/c I had no money and was trying to find that AND someone to accompany me on my pilgrimage...luckily I found money, but I found no compatriots.
But no matter! I had on a really really cute outfit, the well wishes of my out of town homies, and had enough dough to park close so I wouldn't get attacked by creepy Mississippi River people.
And those who had a shot at greatness are sorry they missed out on 2 hours of joy...as well as for losing mega points with me.
Never turn down Mississippi Nights, hello!!!? Its always guaranteed to be ridiculously obscuretastic...and on a weeknight? Even better!

(I'm writing this at work, so if it sounds choppy, its b/c i have to keep on switching to Outlook so as not to blow my cover...but I'm not getting paid, so its a fine line between me not caring and not caring at all - still, its good to keep appearances)

Anyway, kids.
The opening band to the opening band i missed. I caught some poseur connecticutians, The Alternative Route, trying to be a nashville band - their slow songs were deliciously bluesy and verging on soulful, but something (i think it was the bass) was just missing. The drummer was also really stuck on using only one rhythm - so much you noticed, "hey, he's only using one rhythm." This is not good. The rest of the songs were like, blah blah, interesteing line, blah - even though the lead singer did have quite the voice and a pretty connecticut preppy face. I was like, hello, when can I dance to some sweet bayou music.
(FYI: To get to my dad's/my family's farm, you have to cross The Bayou, where there are totally trees swinging in the breeze and logs adrift, just like you'd imagine. Across from the Bayou is the Bennett's General store - only building for miles, where my dad's vagabond-with-a-heart-of-gold friend lives with his dad, whom everyone calls, "Brother." I might be mixing up some of this, but I want to paint a picture here of the small part of me that is really feelin' the bayou vibes.)
I danced with some old ladies on the last song of the Alternative Route, and it was joyful enough.

Then we're waiting for marc. He comes on and looks like my cousin trevor with sortof a jack black lookin' face. Interesting combo - duly noted.
Anyway, he starts playing and like, doesn't stop for 2 hours! Each song goes into the next, and he does these cool little seawalk-esque dances that I can just see him doing with his little buddies on the streets of Louisiana when he was 5.
Why did me and my friends play "mother may I" and wiffleball when we were 5??? WHYYYY!? We could've been studying blues guitar and doing some funky dancing on the streets together, yar!
Marc Broussard, for those of you that aren't as in the know as I, had a random free download on itunes, and yes, I downloaded it and loved it, but didn't bother to buy the cd, though the song kept on being so appropriate to all my playlists. My sister says it is a good song for walking down the street, & feelin' good.

About a school year later I saw this video on VH1 (I know, it was late at night - like really late) and i was like, oh man, that is so good, those people partying on the bayou -- and it was none other than marc broussard! So then I saw he was at mississippi nights and I had not moved to new york and it was fate. We were destined to meet on the Mississippi, as only two mississippi people can! Through some sweet soul music!

!

Did I mention that he wears hats?



Anyway, the music has all these cool breaks that are so well timed that you can't breathe during them and the basist and lead guitarist were blowing my mind. And no, I was not distracted by the drummer doing the same rhythm over and over again. The music and marc himself were like, al green meets maroon 5 meets gavin degraw meets james brown meets stevie wonder meets CCR meets the band that plays the theme song from the 80's tv show, Night Court.
Only like, a million times better.
I found myself in outbursts of screaming and stuff. It was wonderful!

Though my love for marc will not soon end, I'm going to finish this up in the interest of making something up for myself to do at my internship.

My reccomendation for you is to go pay your $17 and get Marc Broussard's album, Carenco (something along those lines) and get in touch with your inner bayou, b/c bayous will never not be cool.