eustilly's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now THIS is my kind of entry. It is the opinion of this "girl of good taste" that Birmingham, as a whole, has horrible taste in music. The reigning rock station in town is doing a Pay for Play Thursday to benefit the Jerry�s Kids. It's a super idea, but giving the people complete power frightens me more than you know. In all honesty, the song choices are not too unbearable, but when you consider that people are paying good money to hear these songs, it takes things to a whole new level of "WTF?!?" I am all about paying money to hear the forgotten greats of yesterday, such as Nirvana's "Molly's Lips" or "Sliver" (or anything from Incesticide for that matter). Or how about splurging on some They Might Be Giants? For example, the song on now is an excellent choice. Why? Because I have no idea what it is. Caller Josh his power for the good of the people, exposing us to Cypress Hill-esque music that we normally do not get to hear between the Jet and Hoobastank repeats. I am thoroughly digging this, but can you guess what someone paid to hear before this song? "Love Shack." Sure, it's funky and appropriate for certain themed parties, but to pay $20-50 for it? No! You can hear it twice a day for free on the 80's station! Oh good, someone just paid $50 to hear Marilyn Manson's "Beautiful People." I could easily take a shot at this one, but I happen to like that song, so yay! I'm not a big R&B fan, but I keep thinking about Beyonce's performance at the Grammy's. I don't mean the Prince thing, thought that was very cool in its own right. I'm talking about her stunning performance of "Dangerously in Love." Not only was her dress and the set absolutely beautiful, but that was the first time I had heard that song and I was moved to tears. I might have to get her album. This week has been the week of "hey, staying out drinking till midnight each night is a good idea." (I had two quasi-dates this week, and it was like the difference between night and day. The first was with this guy named Chris whom I first met in the Montgomery bar scene. We both moved up here at about the same time and found each other again. How funny. Kismet? Maybe, but probably not. I don't get that excited thinking of him. We kept it very casual in terms of whether we went out as friends or more, but the activities were anything but casual. We were dressed to the nines and had dinner at Surin, then walked over to the Highlands for some upper-crust hobnobbing. We met a friend of his there who actually had saved us two bar stools (truly an Olympic feat in such a crowded place). Afterwards, we had another round at Dave's. They refused to let me pay for anything, and that was nice of them. Still, I found it sickening that they actually seemed offended when I offered to get the next round. Thanks for the chivalry fellas, but it wasn't a real date...or was it? No, especially when you consider the goodbye was very formal and he went to another bar after I pulled away. (Oh yeah, I saw you, buddy!) Quasi-date #2 was laundry and drinks next door at Rojo. He was extremely late in meeting me and when he did show up, I said, "Why did you even bother coming now?" See, this guy is Italian and very dry-witted. So dry that in order to play his reindeer games, I have to keep the malice in order to keep up. When he explained why he was late, I didn't hear him over the tumble drying. When I asked him to repeat himself, he said, "Gee, am I speaking Chinese or something? You didn't hear me?" To beat him, I had to muster up some serious spunk-- "No, I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you over the rage boiling in my head. You're an hour late." He thought I was really mad and apologized again. I was mad, but that boiling rage thing was a joke, dude. Anywho. The night got questionably better. We volleyed between seriously connecting and backtracking over heinously evil remarks. I told him that I am not capable of keeping that up for very long. To me, that falls in the category of game playing. After all, a defense like that is usually just an elaborate facade, essentially a mind game. He explained that since his early days of punk rock, the violence was there, but without the malice. All in good fun, I suppose is what he meant. He intelligently noted that in truth, some level of violence walks a fine line with lovemaking. Bad violence, good violence. I agree to some extent, but verbally, he was almost mean, definitely rude. I am not a mean person, nor do I wish to become one in the name of verbal foreplay. And he won't give me his phone number. I have to wait for him to call me. I think it might be a power thing; he said it takes awhile for him to warm up to a girl and deem her worthy of having access to him. He'd warm up to me a lot quicker if we saw each more than once every two weeks. And if he'd call me at least the day before meeting, and not an hour before, he would have a little room to complain about how long it takes to get together. Boys. Whoa, someone paid for classic rock. Ballsy! And now reggae. Hmm. I made friends at the Laundromat last night. It was a young couple and a guy friend of theirs (possibly gay) and we were being extremely witty with our conversation. Boy: "I wish our washer wasn't broken. Lugging around all these clothes is shitty." The boyfriend asked me to come over and drink beer with them sometime. I think the girl was a bit taken aback by this, but not in a jealous way. (More in a, "you didn't run this by me first" kind of way.) But anywho, she got my number, and I really do hope they call because we all really clicked. And it's so hard to make friends off the cuff like that. Especially girls. In a way, meeting friends is almost like dating but without the sex. I remember a really cool waitress I had once. I knew we could be good friends if we had more interaction, but how do you ask for a girl's number without sounding like a big lesbian or weirdo? It's just not "normal." But oh, how excited I was that they were both nice and funny and right up my alley. I think I like hanging with couples better than single people. There is no pressure whatsoever. The dude is off-limits, and I like being reassuring to the girlfriend that I am a female that she can safely allow into their lives. Totally threat and competition free-- breathe easy, girl. True, I get along better with guys, but I think most people are like that. We are built to automatically home in the opposite gender. In high school, I had girl friends, but I never had one solid gal pal. (Exception being Joni, but she went to a different school and I hardly ever saw her.) I did the sorority thing in college as a chance to improve my feminine connections, and it worked beautifully. Since then, I guess you can say I am a big promoter of female relationships. Since graduation, though, I am running low on girl friends and am resorting back the days of guys. I need to revive some ghosts of girl friends past. Whoa, "Whisky River"? Hot damn! 12:03 pm - 08.26.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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