08.17.04 + 10:55 pm

OURS!!! [Still.]

This weekend was utterly fantastic.

Ours absolutely--to steal a phrase from my little sister--rocked my socks off! That was seriously one of the best live shows I've ever been to. The venue was small and personal, and Jimmy Gnecco [the lead singer] has one of the most gorgeous voices I've ever had the pleasure of encountering; their studio albums don't do him justice. [He sounds like some ridiculously wonderful combination of Jeff Buckley and Thom Yorke.] But, I must cut off my gushing to tell you a little story...

So, I'm only 19--not a legal drinking age anywhere in these lovely United States of America. And, this presented a minor problem for me Saturday night. Dinner was fine; I had a few beers--no questions asked, no sideways glances. However, once we arrived at the actual show, things changed somewhat.

Eli went to the bar and brought back several beers, and I didn't give a second thought to taking one from him. I thanked him and took a few swigs--no big deal.

The evening was rising to a deliciously punctuated climax as Ours struck the first chords of my very favorite song ["Broken"], and that's when the trouble began. [The timing was perfectly awful.] Right then, the bouncer sauntered up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around laughing, thinking it was one of the guys poking me, and that's when I saw the stocky guy in the orange shirt staring me down. With what seemed like great sadistic pleasure, he escorted me out of the club; as soon as we hit the pavement, he took my beer from me and told me I couldn't come back into the venue for the rest of the night. I felt like crying.

[Yes, I was crushed.]

Slightly inebriated, I uttered a slew of obscenities and lit a cigarette. The man at the front door must have thought the petite, pissed-off, smoking chick was humorous for some reason because he approached me with a big, goofy grin.

Large Man: So, we got us another one, huh?

Lindsey: Excuse me? [rolls eyes, visibly irritated]

L.M.: I mean, you got kicked out for underage drinking, didn't you, sweetheart?

L: Yeah. I did. [lights another cigarette] You gonna rub it in my face or what?

L.M.: So did all these other folks. [gestures to a long line of pissed-off youths leaning against the side of the building]

L: Man, I can't believe he kicked me out right now. This is my favorite fucking song!

L.M.: Yeah, that's what they all said, too...

L: No, I'm serious. I live and breathe for this song. [staggers slightly]

L.M.: Oh yeah? Well, prove it, sweetie.

L: What do you mean?

L.M.: I mean, sing it for me. Where they are right now in the song--pick it up and sing it for me.

L: You got it, sir. [loudly, embarrasingly garbles off the lyrics to "Broken", not missing a single word. everyone stares, some giggle]

L.M.: Wow. I didn't think you'd actually do that. You're either drunk or really desperate... Tell you what... I'll let you in this side door, but you gotta stay away from the fucking bouncer. If he sees you, it's my ass and yours.

L: Are you kidding me?! Thanks a million, man! [gleefully embraces Large Man and then sneaks back into the club]

I pulled my hair into a bun and put my jacket on--total Pink Panther style [cue theme song]; I walked right past the bouncer and surprised all the guys with my return. The rest of the show was phenomenal, and we had a great time.

.

.

.

Tangent Time.

I think I'm falling for the Arch Nemesis again. This summer, out-of-sight-out-of-mind was working for me just fine, but spending the past weekend with him touched my pining reflex. I can't stop thinking about him, and it's driving me absolutely insane. I haven't been this messed up over a man since the Ex [a.k.a.: He Who Shall Not Be Named].

I just don't understand the way my mind works: I have absolutely no problem dating, going out and having a good time with guys... But, the minute something looks sustaining, I freeze up and shut myself off.

And, I have figured out the one thing about Eli that bothers me the most... In my entire life, I have never encountered anyone--male, female, or otherwise [heh]--that has made me the slightest bit nervous; I'm confident and assertive, to a fault really. But, this behavior flies from me when I encounter my Arch Nemesis: I completely, moronically lose my composure around this man. And, I have no idea what to do with myself when I put on the Hopelessly-Neurotic-Suit. [Let me assure you: it doesn't fit well, and the color's repulsive.]

*sigh* I just wish he were stupid and ugly...

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So much more happened this past weekend, but I don't feel like writing a novella...

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[song] "Let Me Kiss You" by Morrissey