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I'm on a high, on a high...

Thank you Duncan Sheik. Can NOT stop singing that song.

Okay. So our life has gotten exponentially more interesting within the last 5 days or so... and, please, brace yourself. this is LONG.

First, we re-discovered Alex Tween. Former pianist for EYC, current front man & all around rockstar for The Forms. An unbelievable feat, considering that we haven't seen Alex in nearly 10 years… but brought to you (with surprising simplicity) by the folks at Google . Yes, Google. We catch Alex performing at Northsix & can hardly contain our giggling. It is absolutely absurd that shy little Alex Tween is the bundle of energy I see before me, screaming & cooing his way through the set. Afterwards, I wait through his chats with friends & fans & the like just for a few moments with him. It takes a few squints & a nice hint ("think EYC"), but he actually remembers me & we share a nice, sweaty hug & some mutual disbelief at this odd reunion. We chat only a tiny bit before the next band, and then I lose him to various other congratulators & by the time I return from soothing my nicfit, he's hopelessly entwined in the crowd & I depart Brooklyn.

Then came Thursday, and it's truly bizarre combination of events. Now, 7/17 at the Mercury Lounge was a line up I've been waiting for, well, for quite sometime. Certainly for seeing Whirlwind Heat & The Fever – whom I hadn't caught complete sets of yet, but also for seeing Robbers On High Street , and especially my first solely-through- friendster friend, Tomer. Now Tomer & I had been chatting for a while on the friendster & I was calling him my "rockstar non-boyfriend" as he had posted his status on the site as "in a relationship". However, there had been no mention of mystery gf in any of our correspondence, so the original plan was to scout for her at their show & pump any well-meaning friends for information. WELL, before I even set foot in the Mercury Lounge, my own personal Nancy Drew discovered that indeed, the boy had a girl stashed away in England! "Ah well", I thought to myself, "those are the breaks". Besides… do I *really* need another drummer in my life? Haven't I suffered enough on account of mostly well-intentioned, often shy boys hiding behind their kits on stage? As I pondered this, I made my way BACK over to friendster to check out his profile again. Well now. Would you look at that?! His status has magically changed to "single". Hmmn… So there will still be covert investigations to be had after all!

So then, I arrive in my not-quite-a-hipster-but-hip-and-comfy-enough-to-enjoy-a-summer-show best & the hunt for my rockstar non-boyfriend begins. Who has seen him, who knows he's there, who isn't sure which one he is…. it's all so very cloak & dagger. Okay. Not really. It's all so VERY junior high. But it's fun. Basically, I don't figure out who he is until after the first band (Luke Temple) was through. So there was minimal conversation before he had to go & locate his band for their set. Now certain parties have informed us that he is still "taken" by said English chippie, and this raises our eyebrow. Seems a little sketchy. Besides, people are telling us we can do better & we maybe think they're right. ROHS take the stage. Okay then. Boy can really wail on his snazzy little white pearl Ludwig. I pay WAY to much attention to his hands & his kit. Definitely has potential. What kind of potential, I'm not exactly sure, but potential nonetheless.

Okay post ROHS set, I step outside to sate my craving for nicotine in this brutal Bloomberg-can-kiss-my-ass smoking ban. As chance would have it, I start chatting with a woman smoking a clove who also happens to be from Westchester. She's from Hastings, I'm from Eastchester, blah, blah, blah cakes. Our conversation grows to include the man she's there with & another guy with anti-clove sentiments who's been swept our way by the bouncer. (Who by the way has a niece named Jocelyn & thinks it's a really beautiful name ;)) Eventually Hastings & co. moves along and it's just me & anti-clove boy. We keep up with the talking & eventually get to the introduction phase. His name is Mike. Mike is cute & also much taller than me. Kind of funny considering that Tomer is tiny. Not that I mind tiny (see: exhibits J & K). Anyhow, we wander back inside & worm our way through the single file line past the bar. Mike stops me & asks if I'd like a drink, or if maybe I'd rather not with the driving back to Westchester & all. I, of course, am happy to accept a beer and we resume our attempt to push through the crowd to the back room. Ah, er, there's Tomer. Now what? Bonus! Mike runs into a couple from England that he had just gotten blotto with the night before in Bklyn. They chat. Tomer & I chat. Whirlwind Heat starts up & commands every one's attention. Life is good. I enjoy WWH, really I do. But I don't LOVE them. Kinda how I don't LOVE the White Stripes. There is an element of their music that is just a little too raw for me. And then there's the stage antics, which prompt only a "get back to the music already" response from me. I'm thinking I'll like them better an album or so from now. They'll be a little more polished, the set will be tighter, they'll hopefully have outgrown a little of their ADD.

Post set, Tomer has disappeared & I agree to meet Mike back outside for another ciggie. I find the girls to giggle-over about meeting another boy. They're still in a daze over WWH. I have to laugh. This difference is what relegates me to an entirely different level of "hip". If I were edgier, I'd love WWH, end of story. Moving on… I find Mike outside & we chat some more. He's originally from Virginia & now lives in Brooklyn. He works for some law firm downtown. He likes a lot of the same music as me J It's approaching Midnight & I'm parked on the wrong side of the street. The new smoking ban has the following plus – I can leave the Merc & move my car. Yay. I tell Mike I'll meet him back inside & am on my way.

[sidebar: I run into Daniel Kruglikov who utterly shocks me by remembering my name. Within moments of our collision, out of nowhere, Josh appears. This is getting ridiculous. He has invaded the periphery of my social life. It's a VERY weird thing.]

Back from moving my car to a sweet spot directly across the street from where I'd been, I slip inside & find Mike fairly easily (the tall thing is really helpful with my search). He smiles, AND then (how llyod dobbler is this) he hands me a bottle of water – b/c he knew I had to drive back 2 Westchester & wanted me to be safe / not get a dui. How cute!!
The Fever starts up & I'm just ecstatic. It's hard not to be with their punchy-punky-catchy songs blaring at you. Mike kept putting his arm around me & commenting about the band. Then The Fever broke into what I consider their "piece de resistance", a cover of Sheila E's Glamorous Life Well now, I couldn't have been more of a little jumping bean. Wow. Love them. Wow.

Set over, lights up, Mike offers to walk me to my car - in case I don't feel safe. Awww. I find the girls to say goodnight & update them on the cuteness that is Mike. There are smiles ad thumbs-up all around. Tomer is nowhere to be seen & Steve has also mysteriously vanished. (Mental note: email steve) Okay, so Mike walks me out to my car & then asks if it's too forward of him to ask for my number!! I almost died right there on the street. It's got to be the VA in the boy, too, too adorable. I of course gave it to him, and then there I was… having total romantic kissage on a side street in NYC. I felt like a Ryan Adams song. lol. What a night!!

Friday was a rest-up night, and then Saturday was the Main Event: Sirenfest at Coney Island. First, let me give up mini rants about the following two subjects:

1. The Traffic – getting to Coney was like trying to get to Jones Fucking Beach. Rigoddamndiculous. It took me nearly two hours to get there & I'm not EVEN going to discuss the parking goings-on.

2. Blinding myself with a burning ember – if you've never done this. Well, it sucks. Especially while driving, in very bright sun. Trying to drive while holding one eye under your sunglasses is not easy. Also, the eye took about a half hour to stop tearing & was incredibly sensitive to wind, smoke & sun for the remained of the day. Not to mention my "I've done permanent damage" scare on the way home! Every illuminated object had a small circle around it when I looked with my right (read: burnt) eye, or even when looking with both eyes.

Okay. On to the Sirenfest. I get there in time to enjoy good chunk of Sahara Hotnights at the Main Stage, but in minutes am actually dripping wet. It is disgustingly hot out here in the sun. Also, I'm on a mission to find anybody I know. I can't get anywhere near the front of the stage, even after SHN are over, so I decide to forgo Hot Hot Heat & make my way down the boardwalk to The Stillwell Stage where Northern State are wrapping up. I discover a small area between two sets of barricades on stage left where I can hang out in almost shade with a nearly front row view. This also happens to be the side that they let the VIPs & the Press into the Pit during each set. I figure from here, I will spot anyone I'm likely to know, as they're always up front or down with the special passes & the like. I hang out and really enjoy Ted Leo & The Pharmacists . (Props to Audrey for giving me a heads up on them)

Ted & co leave and the crowd shifts, giving me full access to the front barrier. This wacked out girl starts chatting with me/ hugging me / accusing me of spilling her vodka / chatting with the security guards. Apparently her name is Sarah (per the CSS guard) & I can understand nary a drunken word she's saying. As Radio 4's set grows nearer, I suddenly recognize Audrey in the pen of VIP's to my right. I call out & wave & she shrieks in that adorably French way, motioning that she'll come over when they let them through. Which she does J Radio 4 rocks out. I take a bunch of pictures & kill the battery on my camera. Carlos Interpol is dancing in the Pit. I have to laugh. I get that the band has their all-black "uniform" on stage, but it was a million degrees outside & here he is black pants, black long-sleeve button down buttoned all the way up at the top… c'mon man, isn't that taking your "personal style" a bit too far!?? Psycho girl returns from wherever it is she went with a fresh supply of vodka, and a hot pink water gun. lol. I can't help it. Insane as she is, she's funny. She keeps surreptitiously shooting people & then implicating me… No one seems to mind though & it's hot enough still that most people get a chuckle out of it. When it's over I find Audrey & Erica & chat a little before wandering off in search of some food to quiet my tummy rumbles.

Ah, the joys of boardwalk food. About a gazillion calories later, I return to my spot at the barriers & start chatting up the Security guards about the whereabouts of our wacky fan (she kept asking which band members I'd slept with…) who has once again, disappeared. They give me cotton candy (the blue kind, yay!) and offer up ponderances on whether she's actually a nut job or just blotto. I see the gals pour back into the pit from their holding pen & Idlewild starts up. I'm dancing my little butt off. J The sun has gone down (ish) and the air is WAY more comfy. About 3 songs into the set, the security guards are slipping something to each other that I barely notice until one of them palms it to me. I look & realize they've slipped me a VIP bracelet & are motioning me to go around the fence to the VIP gate. I scramble out of the crowd, tape on the bracelet & waltz right into the pit. Audrey sees me & here eyes light up. She mouths "how"? And I flash the bracelet. I eventually scoot closer to her & the rest of her crew (dead center, front of the pit – where else?) and explain about the security guard. There is much picture taking by the blog crew: Jo, Giulia, Erica, Sarah, etc… And much dancing by me. Idlewild rocks. Sarah screams this often at them. They seem to appreciate it. The show ends, I say my goodbyes & make the loooong trek home with my defective eye. An answering machine with no messages greets me, but not hearing from Mike is not enough to kill the day for me. I pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Sunday. 3 pm. He CALLED. I have his digits now & we're wanting to get together sometime this week. Maybe on Thursday for the free Spoon show. I heart Spoon & I bet I'd heart them even more if Mike comes along ;)











Comments

( 2 spankings — spank your inner moppet )
krisdrum
Jul. 22nd, 2003 08:06 am (UTC)
Nice links! So... Mike...?
ophelia99
Jul. 23rd, 2003 08:55 pm (UTC)
don't you just *LOOOVE* tall boys??? *sigh*... sounds eggcellent! kissage the first night huh??? wooord. :) keep us updated.
( 2 spankings — spank your inner moppet )