Monday, December 14, 2009

"Raise a glass to mend....

My room is a mess and must be cleaned and I have an exam on Friday that I need to do some hard core studying for, since I know next to nothing about the material. Sooo.... naturally, I'm here, honing my procrastination skillz.

It has been many a day since last I wrote. And I call myself a writer...

Right well, I never did a review of the Gaga concert. But really, what could I say that you couldn't infer from my open invitation for her to marry me? I dunno....

It was like being at a play, I suppose. A play with an ambiguous story line and a near lethal audience. I had to have CONSTANT VIGILANCE (Mad-Eye would be proud) to ensure no one accidentally crushed my 11 year old brother.

She had multiple costume changes with each get-up more ridiculous than the last. I'd say my personal favourite was either the black spiderweb type body suit she had going on or the space-age Bowie-infused glittery light-up extravaganza she wore for the first few songs. Or maybe the Cleopatra-style golden bondage suit. There really were too many to choose from.

How 'bout this one with the built in external rib-cage?

(If you click to embiggen, the pictures will only get blurrier. I wouldn't recommend it)

But more than the madness of her clothing (if you can call it clothes.... not sure it quite falls under that category. Maybe underwear. Or art) it is her voice that sets this woman apart from many disappointing pop tarts/stars of today. She can actually sing. She has inflection in her song, emotion in her voice... she sounds legit. And if I'm gonna pay for a concert, I better damn well get to hear the artist's voice, real time, coming from their actual mouth.

The show began with a projection of a free-floating Lady Gaga on a screen that made up the 4th wall of the stage, with a count-down in the corner to when she would appear. [Note to anyone planning any type of show: count-downs make EVERYTHING way cooler (I mean think about it, what usually follows a countdown? Something crazy... a spaceship launch, a bomb, New Year's.... the anticipation drives people into a frenzy, I'll tell you that)]. When she finally became visible in her light up costume beyond the screen she sang "Dance in the Dark," off her new quasi album.

Madness ensued in the form of a stellar set. High-lights included: her questioning of the audience asking "DO YOU THINK I'M SEXY? DO YOU WANT TO FUCK ME?!?" (My brother was minorly horrified.), her intimate rendering of "Speechless" with just her and the piano (which the whole crowd seemed to know despite the fact that it had only come out around five days prior to the concert), a dentist chair on which everyone seemed to die at one point (even the Lady herself), and the time one of her backup dancers lit her a cigarette and I thought 'man, someone should give her a bylaw ticket, how funny would that be...' [Ottawa has a no smoking in public establishments bylaw].

She finished up with an encore of "Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)" and "Bad Romance" which she sang from the centre of a giant metal Bohr-Rutherford diagram minus the electrons.

When I showed a picture of that to my mom she said it must mean Lady Gaga thinks she's the centre of the universe.

"No mum," I replied. "Then she would have to believe in a geocentric model of the universe, and I'm sure she's smarter than that. Surely she only thinks she's the centre of the solar system."

I'm so cheeky.

But in a very scientific, I-can't-help-it-I-have-only-two-social-skills way.

The only quibble I saw was when she seemed a bit iffy on when to come in for "Beautiful and Dirty Rich." I could have sworn I saw her motion to a dancer in a questioning fashion, but then, who the fuck knows what I saw, the crowd was so thick and tall it was a work out to see anything at all.

Speaking of shortness, my poor bro. He's about up to my chin. Many people took pity on him and pushed us ahead of themselves.

That went on for a bit until we hit this wall of bitch. It was several girls who were just nasty about making fucking sure that this little 11 year old kid didn't get any further. I completely understand people not wanting to let us past them, we never pushed to get past people, and I'm surprised we got as far as we did. But these girls were quite wicked. They were calling my brother names to each other just loud enough for him to hear and using their asses to push anyone behind them backwards. For some reason they felt entitled to more room than everyone else on the floor. I wanted so badly to break them. Instead I spent a good deal of time devising ways to get away from them before I flew off the handle. My brother took to calling their ring leader "the whore."

Other people on the other hand, amazed me with their kindness. Some people took it upon themselves to ask others if we could move in front of them. But one girl - and whoever you are, I wish you would read this - saw my bro and put him on her back for a bunch of songs. So thank you soooooo much to the girl with brown curly hair and a purple and black scarf for being an amazing human being and restoring my love for humanity just when I thought it was gone due to "the whore" and her posse.

Putting him on my back wasn't nearly as effective as putting him on the tall girl with the purple scarf, but that's what I did, after the she left. Dear lord he's heavy. It didn't help that I tried to dance with him up there.

So there you have it.

O and Kid Cudi, the other opening act after Semi Precious Weapons, was a'ight. Not quite my cup of tea, but I enjoyed it and his rappiness. Brother dear, though, actually fell asleep standing up during his act. I just looked down in the middle of "Pursuit of Happiness" to find he had his eyes closed, oblivious to the roaring crowd. It was ok though, since he had no way to fall down, as we were packed in too tight.




.... all the broken hearts of all my fucked up friends"

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Hola El NiƱo

It's December 2nd, and it's a positively tropical 7 degrees Celsius outside.

Huh.

Monday, November 30, 2009

I CAN'T PAY MY RENT BUT I'M FUCKING GORGEOUS

WELL. AT THIS POINT YOU MAY BE THINKING I PRESSED CAPS LOCK TOO HARD AND IT STUCK THAT WAY. BUT NO. I AM ACTUALLY SHOUTING!

(and also pressing caps lock would be the smart thing to have done. I just held the shift button down the whole time. I got halfway through and thought 'GEE I SHOULD REALLY JUST PRESS CAPS LOCK. O WELL FUCK IT, I'M ALREADY HALFWAY THROUGH')

Anyways. On to business. I went to LADY GAGA yesterday with my lil' brotha. And I shall speak more about that later, but right now I have an English assignment that is overdue, so I'll make this brief. Suffice it to say, I may have shouted "MARRY ME GAGA - IT'S LEGAL HERE!" several times. I'm assuming she'll get back to me on that one.

After touring, obvi.

Right, but what couldn't wait til post-English essay was the opening band: Semi Precious Weapons. They were.... wilde. Like, take-your-clothes-of-on-stage wilde (PS, don't click the link if you have a problem with seeing a man's bum. I didn't record that, but someone a few rows ahead of me did. Lucky tall bastard) (PPS, I don't give a fuck, click the link anyways, it's EPICNESS INCARNATE).

And ya... I was quite taken by them. They rocked my fucking socks. Seriously, not sure if my socks will ever recover. But that's ok, I'm willing to sacrifice socks for music. Any day.

Semi Precious Weapons even went and hung out in the lobby after the show and did autographs and pictures. That was thrilling. And they were lovely people. Cole the bassist signed my sailor hat (which I insisted my bro wear to the concert. I also made him wear my red skinny jeans and a silver belt. He was soo on board.) And Justin the lead singer had the cutest yellow plaid tights on. Jealous. I'm also slightly envious that he is a six foot tall man and can walk/dance manically around in six inch heels, while I am a 5 foot short girl who can't deal with heels period. Really, at my prom even, I wore my heels for all of 77 seconds before I ditched them under the table and danced around barefoot. o wellzz.

And that is why, when I get around to changing it, Song of The ____ goes to Semi Precious Weapons. I am a fan. In body and soul. And Facebook. HA.

Magnetic Baby - Semi Precious Weapons
Semi Precious Weapons - Semi Precious Weapons
Her Hair is On Fire - Semi Precious Weapons

There is always an over-abundance of scantily clad women in the vids.

ps. I bought a SPW T-shirt with the title of this poste on it. My mother was not impressed.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

hmmm

On Friday mornings, the weekend always feels like it has so much potential. More often than not, by this time Sunday, all that potential has been wasted, and I spend the rest of the evening kicking myself/frantically doing assignments.

A+ for another well wasted weekend. Fuck.

On a happier note, I'm going to Parliament on Tuesday to watch 45 minutes of mud slinging and name calling called Question Period, when the elected members of the federal government gather to ask each other questions. It's just a whole lot of showboating and ridiculous antics. The opposition asks questions of the party in power, and everyone gets indignant. Michael Ignatieff's eyebrows become scarier, Jack Layton's mustache takes on a persona of it's own, and Stephen Harper has a constant look of smug constipation (I didn't know it was possible to be both at the same time, but honestly that's all I see when I look at him).

And then I'm going to be like a real journalist and participate in a scrum, which seems scary and useless at the same time.

Last time I was in a scrum, I was playing rugby. I wonder if they bite in this one?

..... I know I will.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

I like the word "fervor"

Hello people of the world (HA)!

I did not combust, implode, explode, evaporate, or shrivel into a hollow, inhuman husk of a body from doing my project. I did, however, discover the wonders and slightly freaky effects of energy drinks. Maybe it is because I avoid them with impressive fervor, or maybe it's because of the three coffees I had prior to downing most of the energy drink, but for a good half an hour, I looked like I'd just done a line of cocaine.

The bottle says it is to "help temporarily restore wakefulness when experiencing fatigue or drowsiness" but this bottle of toxicity went way beyond being useful and put me into a state of 'wakefulness' that rendered me too fidgety, hyper, giggly, ridiculous and restless to actually get any work done. My orange-haired friend thankfully cut me off from my supply and drank the rest herself. And in the meantime, I went and ran up and down two flights of library steps in an attempt to calm myself down.

After that, I eventually went back to being a normal person, able to speak without bursting into fits of uncontrollable laughter. That was around 10:46 pm. An hour later, I took the bus home (a sketchy thing at the best of times, but midnight on a bus is a rather alarming experience. Yet I find myself there all the time) and at 4:30 am, I fell asleep with my paper not done, my computer precariously on my lap. At 5:11, I jolted awake in shear terror that it was time to leave for school, realized I had an hour and a half to finish the thing, and finished it. Success!

It's probably crap, but no matter, at least it's done. Now I can start crying on the inside about other imminent deadlines.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Goodness Gracious. Great balls of....

FIRE.

I anticipate spontaneously combusting sometime around the hour of 4 o'clock Friday morning, right around the time that I realize I will never be able to finish this blasted journalism assignment.

Just giving you a heads up in case I never post again.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

We are not all polite.

Exchange between myself and Mr. Stickuphisass from across the street whilst canvasing the neighbourhood for the Arthritis Society:

Me: [ring doorbell. waiting.....waiting. nearly give up. turn to leave.]

[door opens]

Me: "O hello. How are you today?"

Mr. Stickuphisass: [stares blankly] "What are you selling?"

Me: [stricken dumb for a beat] Ah. [nervous chortle] Not selling anything today sir. [force a natural looking smile] I'm just canvassing for the Arthritis Society -

Mr. S: Not interested. [closes door before I can say 'bye' or any such parting words]


I shouldn't have bothered going to his door. I'm pretty sure that last year the same thing happened. I probably even muttered the same profanities as I walked away from his house.

On the bright side, everyone else was really nice. Even the ones who didn't give me money. And I raised $100. BooYah.



Ps. I can't believe I wrote a post on November 5th and forgot to mention Guy Fawkes Day. It's like my favourite foreign holiday. So...."Remember, remember the fifth of November, the gun-powder treason and plot. I know of no reason the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot." And yet it took me three days to realize that I forgot it.
I also love the movie "V for Vendetta."