"This is a very specific kind of bullshit."

Last week was my first week at a new job which came to me suddenly and thus took on a dreamlike quality. Not dreamlike in that it was beautiful and ethereal, but rather dreamlike in the sense that it never felt like I was fully awake or fully there. My sleep habits are ridiculous, and my eyeballs are delicate. It seems.

So, it was not entirely unforgivable that I plain forgot that I had tickets to see the Kids in the Hall at the end of the week. My calendar and a conversation with a friend reminded me, and all of a sudden I had to scramble to find mates to go with me, because I had bought two tickets for Friday and FOUR ticket for Saturday, assuming I would have lots of buddies who missed out on the sale. It wasn't difficult. Save for those who wouldn't be in town, no one DIDN'T want to go. In the end, I took Martín on Friday and then Dustin, Boris, and Martín (again) on Saturday, and both occasions were super. The theater was so crowded on Friday night that Martín and I had to stand in the back, but we were flanked by Vera and Blaine and a handful of other friends, so it was really nothing to complain about. But on Saturday, I made sure to get there good and early so that we could sit up close and not have to wonder about what unplanned offstage banter was happening out of earshot.

The Kids performed all new material they had just written this week, which was a thrill and a treat and a dose of inspiration. And an equally potent dose of indictment.

After last night's show, Boris and Dustin and I skipped out on the after party for the show and went instead to the House of Pies and then to the liquor store and then back to the Steve Allen to watch the Tomorrow Show, after which I still had a great deal of whiskey in my handbag and really should have created a scenario that would have led to my drinking more of it, but instead I hurried home to my dog and my Guitar Hero, which just might be as good as it gets.

My friend Simon and I had an IM chat later that night during which I confessed that I had felt pretty, as a means of balancing out the usually self-critical responses I make to any of his kind compliments, and also because -- amazingly and for once -- it was true.

Labels: Guitar Hero, Kids in the Hall, Tomorrow Show

posted by Mary Forrest at 2:39 PM | Back to Monoblog

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