I forgot how dopey worknight concerts make me. When I got up in the morning I was awake and clear headed enough to get to work but not particularly coordinated. I got off the train at Waterfront and walked to the top of the stairs where a penny was waiting on the ground for me.
I bent over to pick it up and lost my balance somehow, and from there I crumpled very ungracefully to my knees. I began to laugh, which is probably why no one bothered to help me. I now have two bruised knees and the toe of my right shoe was badly scuffed, but otherwise I'm alright.
No, I was not at the sopping wet Radiohead concert that everyone's been talking about. My relationship to Radiohead consists of mild appreciation. I think they've made some decent music but I don't love them enough to shell out the cash to see them.
But will I go see concerts that people have bought me tickets for? Hell yes. That would be the main reason why I saw Jack Johnson last night at Thunderbird Stadium. It was a pretty enjoyable concert all around. Unlike Radiohead, the weather cooperated with us, though a lot of the grass was still pretty trashed from a couple days ago.
The only thing I really don't like about Thunderbird Stadium is the lack of incline on the field, because it makes it even harder than normal for us short kids to see anything. Luckily there are some considerate tall people out there. One girl kept making her boyfriend move out of our way every time he stepped in front of us. He'd then turn and make really melodramatic apologies. Eventually they decided to stand behind us.
Being at a concert full of stoned people makes me really aware of the fact that I'm turning into my mother, but also happy for the fact that my sister's got the bug worse. At one point in time there was a young couple in their teens near us doing dumb lovey dovey stuff. She was really intoxicated and clingy and he looked really happy to have the chance to grope her awkwardly, which had Abby's knickers in a knot.
Then at one point in time her skirt started falling down so that you could see her underwear. Abby got really pissed off about it and I laughed at her because she sounded exactly like mom. Though after they were gone I agreed that if he was really a good boyfriend he would have pulled her skirt up.
I count on my friends to tidy me up when I start looking like a disheveled whore because that's what good friends do. Yes, that is my mother talking through my mouth.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Posted by erin at 11:22 PM