The papery skin is falling off…

Close to 1am...

 Jan 22 (although technically its still Thursday night since I haven’t gone to bed yet…)

I literally just went running and screaming through the streets of DC. Pure abandon and bliss.

Tonight my friend Ben (by the way, most of the Bens I’ve know have been intensely into music) took me to a fantastic concert at this gritty little club called Black Cat.  It had all the character indicadive of a small club – funky wall paint colors, dark-ish lighting (oxymoron, but lets not go there), excellent people watching, strange smells, mass out of promo posters and a pool table. After all, every club/venue//cool kids place needs a pool table.


Come to think of it, the club came complete with a very intense ticket taker woman.  I decided she must have had a bad dinner or no dinner at all.  She got very concerned when we stepped to close to the entryway without showing her our tickets.  When we tried to talk to her, she told us she could talk to us once we stepped back away from the doors and on the otherside of the "ticket" counter.  She repeated this after we stepped back, but not close enough to the imaginary line she set forth as the proper distance of entry examination. 

But, the heart of the night!

How I LOVE music.  Tonight was great. Much to my delight the opening, opening band was a great sound.  Faces on Film.  Check them out.  His voice is beautiful – and has this strangely haunting feel.  Not too sure if that sound will be there in a studio recording, but take it from me, the lead singer is great live! The middle band was NOT worth blowing some ear drum power on.  Horrible sound, but very entertaining band members.  They danced and had some great had gesturing.  To quote my friend Ben as we talked to the band (Animal Tropical)  after the show “You were like nothing I have heard before.” Honestly. Absolutely honesy.  It was like beatnik poetry set to grunge/guitar slam/clashing chords sung with off key vocals.  Great guys though. And I must tip my hat to George, the base player.  He was the size of the base! Short, short guy -Ecuadorian? Very entertaining.

The concert ran until around 11:45.  And as we left – it was freezing and raining! Ben started to run and I started to run in the hopes of staying warm and getting to the car quickly. He laughed and yelled “I’m dusting you. You cant run because you’re in flats!” (reference to an earlier comment on why I couldnt walk fast. He thought I was in heels. I told him I was wearing flats. He was confused) We started goofing off and yelling back and forth as we ran through the wet streets of DC scaring the concert goers walking around us.  It would be much more entertaining to you if you had been the couple under the umbrella we zoomed past...

We also discussed the fact that I say (out loud) good morning to both the Washington and Lincoln Memorials as I pass them on my daily commute.  We discussed the need to be more personal and creative with the names for my monument call out! “George” (said in French accent) and Hammy or Ham bone will be the names I try out in the morning.

And Ben, if you're reading this, your personal musk and 90's hair are not to be taken seriously. *

* Explain? Bens hair is long. Well, longish since his hairdresser moved away and he doesnt want to spend $40 for a haircut at the mall.  Nevermind that I would do it for $35.  He asked me what I thought. He told me to be honest.  I stalled. He then said "It looks like 90's hair." I agreed. Maybe I shouldnt have.  I am just honest that way. Personal Musk? Bens car smells like the leather airfreshner hanging from his rear view mirror.  Upon my discovery, Ben commented "that is my personal musk you're smelling."  No one ought to infer the richness of their personal musk. I told him never to use that phrase in a serious tone. Ever.