Happy September, everyone!
Post-Labour Day, there always seems to be something qualitatively different in the air. Paired with the first leaves tumbling to the ground, I am afraid that autumn may indeed be creeping up on us.
But I digress... because I'm sure you are all biting your nails with anticipation of my long weekend antics!
(humour me, okay?)
My weekend kicked off with a proverbial bang, for certain...
A friend from a previous city of residence recently moved my way. On Friday, he invited me to meet him at an infamous clothing optional beach. I highlight the optional, as while I don't have a problem with nudity, I'm also a little hesitant to disrobe in front of just anyone, especially in the days of cell phone cameras and voyeuristic websites. While negotiating the plans, he asserted that he, too, would remain clothed. However, on the actual day of, as I was on my way to meet him, we exchanged a series of text messages, starting with him saying "I have to warn you, there are naked people here", to "Actually, I decided to go naked, as it felt too awkward to be clothed", to "Do you mind if I am naked when we meet?"
I told him that, if he was comfortable with it, I could handle that.
All the same, it is definitely one of the odder experiences in life to witness a completely platonic friend of several years (who, I may add, I have never been attracted to-- and is also married and a completely unskeezy guy) striding towards you, completely nude. Especially one who always fell more into the bounds of conventionality than myself. And although the awkwardness dissipated rather quickly (the fact that he was so nonchalant helped), I still kept on having "Oh my God, I've seen S's penis!" run through my mind for the rest of the day.
After dinner with my now non-nude friend, I met up with some girl friends, who escorted me to a friend's house for some drinks before we made our way out. Which was all fine and dandy... except for the fact that it was the DIRTIEST. HOUSE. EVER.
Our city is unfortunately on Day 47 of a garbage worker strike, which means that, along with being randomly blasted with rank odors as you are walking down the street, most houses are experiencing greater than normal fruit fly populations. I have about five buzzing around my kitchen that seemingly don't seem to care whether my dishes are clean or not, as do most people I know who live in this city. However, that is no excuse for over 50 fruit flies in the bathroom alone!
I seriously cannot imagine why people can not only live in such squalor, but not even be embarassed of it! Laundry all over the living room, hundreds of wine bottles in the kitchen, odd wet looking stains on the rug, mold in the bathtub... and you invite people over? I was creeped out by the fact that I hadn't worn socks and had to place my bare feet on their possibly contaminated floor that had never seen the gentle touch of a mop.
However, lest you get the impression that my long weekend was all about a general sense of discomfort...
Whilst flipping through the channels on Sunday afternoon, I came across not just one, but TWO Freddie Prinze Jr. movies on at the very same time! Ah, Freddie, your puppy dog eyes and ability to play a teenager despite being around thirty years old make me yearn for the days of yore. Your films also make me wonder why my prom didn't have spontaneous choreographed dance routines. Or even an epic battle for prom queen, and, of course, your heart.
The main theme of the weekend, however, was not heartthrobs, but rather rock concerts!
Saturday night, the Duke, his roomie and I went to see Queens of the Stone Age. We were a little apprehensive-- not at QOTSA's ability to rock, but rather about the venue, which at the last minute had been relegated to a suburban arena typically used for Triple A hockey due to the very same strike that has also resulted in garbage pile-ups also resulting in the closing of the concert venue. However, the show did not disappoint-- the band rocked out for a solid two hours, and I danced my ass off.
One of the most entrancing things ever must be watching a mosh pit in flickering lights-- it looks as though it is entirely its own entity.
A non-highlight? Drunks teenagers trying to mosh while in hockey arena stands-- in between doing the spin your partner, do-si-do square dance move.
We also went to see Tokyo Police Club on Sunday night. Fitting with one of the weekend's subthemes-- that being lack of cleanliness- -the floor was so sticky it pulled my slip-on shoes off. Although they probably suffered in contrast to the night previous' performance, the band still put on a solid show, if a little short.
I'm actually in the midst of a rather lovely concert bonanza, with another four shows this month alone.
But now, alas, with the return of fall comes the return to school. My eighth year, to be exact, which is a little intimidating to realize. Kicking off with a 6:30 rise tomorrow and a return home some 13 or so hours later.
Freddie.... come rescue me!
Monday, September 3, 2007
Happy September, everyone!