ladies and gentlemen, john mayer

I realized something seeing him live. Whenever I've seen him perform on an awards show or some taped thing on the internet I've always been a little put off by his antics ~ he's a face-makin' spit-flayling bee-bopping machine, and it's always made me slightly uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how it was going to feel being 15 rows away from him. Let me tell you though the reason for all of that. It is pure musical sex. There is no other way to describe him live. And I don't mean sex, like ooh he made me so wet, I mean sex like pure fucking abandonment to the vibe, to the beat, to the pulse, to the melody, to the horns, to the pure force behind it all. It sounds so damn cheesy but it's true. That was probably one of the best shows I have ever seen. Every freaking note was like chocolate. It was so damn good. And he becomes the guitar, that's why he giddies around so much, his face and hips and feet all follow the melody. I can't seem to describe it without sounding like an idiot. IT WAS INCREDIBLE. The whole band was so fucking talented and the blues were so dirty and the drums, I just gotta talk for a second about the drums, I couldn't stop moving the whole time. I didn't care that I was there alone. I didn't care that people were staring at the girl at the end of the aisle dancing like a fool. The only reason it could have been better if someone was with me was to seriously validate that it was happening. It seems like a fucking dream. It was that good. And I don't even think it was one of his best nights, he seemed a little distant from the crowd, but what do you expect when you're used to playing for bigger audiences? It's funny when big acts come to Canada. Anyways anyways the bonus episode of the night was finding out 20 minutes before the show that Kathleen Edwards was opening. And, finding out 20 minutes into her set that it was none other than Jim Bryson playing guitar and keyboards with her. One of his songs on a jukebox saved me one broken down night in Canmore years ago. And lo and behold, there he was.

I was going to call this post "JFC it's JFM", which of course would stand for "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST IT'S JOHN FUCKING MAYER", which of course I kept muttering to myself while watching him play, but I decided to leave the lord out of it. At least for the part that gets picked up by the Sask Bloggers link. There be a lotta christians in that list, and I don't want to be known as the girl with the potty mouth, even if it is true.

The rest of the trip was awesome, and adult, and perfect too. I was in Edmonton for exactly 24 hours. Stayed with my pal Kara, and it's so funny and good to see that we're both no longer hippies since we haven't really seen each other in 5 years. I ate a falafel (a "big city" staple for me), walked down Whyte Ave, and was home by 12:30, had a couple of beer with her and her boyfriend and hit the (lovely) sack. Up at 9, coffee and croissants at the local Italian grocers where they had AN ENTIRE AISLE of olive oil and balsamic vinegar varieties, a quick trip to Ikea and I was on the road home. 1100km later I am happy as a peach. Hope ya'll had a good weekend too (and no, Jessica Simpson was nowhere to be seen. Stop asking for pictures already).

12 hours to go

Did I mention I'm going to John Mayer tonight? I might have forgot, so please think of me this evening in Edmonton, 15th row on the floor, rockin' out to one of the most talented freaking bands I know of. Have fun, take care, I'll see you on the flipside.

the good news is that my ball joints are fine

For the last week and a bit I've had a strange sickness ~ it started as an incredibly sore throat and then just went straight to mucus. There were a couple of days of waking up and blowing out chunks of boogers about 1/2 the size of my brain, and now the last couple of days have just been all about tasting the grossest sickness in my chest, and horking out whatever it is that hork comprises of. Glamourous, I know. G-L-A-M-O-U-R-O-U-S. It's a good thing Fergie ain't Canadian or else that song just wouldn't work.

T - 3 days

The icing on the cake is that cameras are allowed. God I need this.

the girl who jumps to conclusions

It's obvious really, why. I've had maps drawn for me for years.
They all end up with me, being the fault and the geiser
but I sure wish that I was wiser before.
If you learn that all good intentions are lies then
what the hell are you expected to believe when faced with them?
Distrust is something learned. I'm not proud.

It all ends up to being here, making small talk
sitting next to someone that rarely made you feel ok
but you're still supposed to wish them well,
compliment their nice hair and small ass. How about a big fuck you?
Fuck you for recognizing my fear, feel it mirroring in yourself
but still ganging up on me? Still playing power in numbers against it?
Seems like there is lots from that arrogant street that I need to forgive.
I tried to explain it to the girl from my long past tonight and she really
would have got it had we followed through.

Me though? I'm three pints drunk and heavy.
And I'm still laughing at this conversation..

"So do you ever come to Edmonton?"
"I'm coming this weekend, actually"
"Where are you staying?"
"I don't even know yet"
"Stay at my house! We have a guest room!"
"Do I need to bring a sleeping bag or something?"
"No"
"Yeah, we're adults now, hey?"

nothing says good times like a macarena party

A few things of note lately:

~ Hey brain - stop waking up 4 hours after you fall asleep every night. They're called weekends for a reason. You get to SLEEP IN. Once upon a time you had no problem with this. And now it's 8:30 every morning regardless of being up until 4am eating grilled cheese sandwiches.

~ People who lie suck. That's the honest truth.

~ I completely kicked some ass last night singing "Are you gonna be my girl" by Jett. I'd tried it before and it got the best of me, but last night I was just drunk and happy enough to let 'er rip and holler it the way it needs to be hollered. There are witnesses.

~ I am never allowed to cut bangs in my hair again. If anyone knows I'm going for a haircut, please remind me of this. I tried doing my hair last night and ended up with one half of my bangs in a ghastly 70's feather and the other side doing Cameron Diaz's sperm style. I'm so fucking sick of them falling in my eyes all the time.

~ The SSO book sale is on for the next week at the Confed Mall. I went on Saturday for a while and got 12 novels for $20. And I always judge a book by it's cover.

~ 18 drunk ladies in a karaoke lounge is entertaining for everyone.

don't call me shirley

I've somehow managed to avoid the new Blogger UNTIL TODAY. Everything I've seen about it worried me, the labels, the loss of old posts and comments, the uber-large font. And I slipped through the cracks for a couple of months there, but today it just wouldn't let me sign in without switching. Oh well. Embrace the change, I guess. And speaking of change, what a strange phenomenon it is to have someone want to call me. Who is super flattering and seemingly not full of crap. Of course judgement is still somewhat reserved but it's sure a nice change to be pursued. I'm not sure that I'm ready for it but it really is way too coincidental to ignore. So we'll see. And another thing? I don't understand why people don't steal mail. Random, I know, but I ordered a bunch of movies from cdplus.com when they had that sale and came home yesterday to an incredibly overflowing mailbox where they had been sitting for 9 hours. I really don't get why they weren't stolen. I'm not complaining, though. I'm really secretly proud.

a gay old time

Nice weekend, if you can call one day off a weekend. Skipped out of work early saturday to make food for Jenn's bday dinner. Found a new favourite recipe in the spinach, bosc pear and blue cheese salad with homemade raspberry vinaigrette. I will definitely be making that one again. And despite being covered in red wine from an overly happy to be home child (the stains came out, yay!) it was a great dinner with great girls and just what we all needed, methinks. Lots of silly pictures involving cheesecake, though, and I'll keep those to myself until the parties involved sign the waiver. And I'm going to John Mayer, thank you very much, 15th row on the floor, and yeah it's a long solo drive but it will be worth it, I'm banking on it. And I'll link to this because damnit, I'm really freaking beautiful in this picture.

mysterious bruises

Here's the thing ~ I'm still shaky. I still wake up in the middle of the night consumed by sheer fucking anger at how things turned out, at how I let myself get sucked in to the bullshit and the drama and the neuroses and the blame, oh the blame, how the blame, love the blame. I'm still very bitter, and very broken, and very burnt. I want nothing to do with the game of relationships. I need to figure out (and somehow just forgive) how "love" could be so cruel. But a very lovely stranger asked me out, and I can't help but wonder if it really is true that you meet important people in the strangest of places. We'll see, I guess. I'm going to force myself off of the couch to find out.

7 hours at Emerald Lake

10 hours in Moose Jaw

here we go again

Remember this? I'm still convinced that my life would have been different had I gone to that show. It really would have. But no, my date backed out and I decided that I couldn't afford it alone. Should've gone anyways, cuz I'm still kicking myself about it. So now John Mayer is playing Edmonton and Calgary at the end of April, and I love him, and he's on my list of concerts that I must attend before I die, and guess what? I got no one to go with. Ha ha. But there's single tickets available on the floor, and it's $65, and what the hell? Should I bite the bullet and just do it alone? I'm not afraid to go solo, it just sucks that it's the same situation all over again. And I swear, if I use the word suck or sucky or crappy one more time on here, I will slap myself. Don't worry, I'm getting sick of myself being miserable too.

just because

things are still pretty crap for me and this makes me laugh EVERY SINGLE TIME I see it. Maybe one day I will rent it and be disappointed! (Also? Something I just realized on an email I sent earlier to the corporate office in Calgary? It's really really really easy to misspell "assign" as "assing". Whoops.)

ye olde canadienne music

In honour of the Juno's last night (which was great, and packed, and oh-so-sweaty) I figured I'd put up some Canadian music that never did get any awards, or airtime, or shows, or mention. There is really so much more out there than Nickelback, Michael Buble, and Nelly Furtado. Don't get me wrong, she was actually quite funny and real last night, with some amusing video montages and some even more amusing outfits (blue satin dress, black tights, and gold shoes?????), but it never ceases to amaze me how commercial the whole thing is. So without any further ado:

Amy Millan
Jim Bryson
Stars

There's a ton more, but I'm out of both time and webspace right now.