What it does have: sex, rock & roll, a little guitar work, some inspired light shows, chance encounters, furries. Those you will have to ask me about.
This weekend started for me on Wednesday -- I had the day off, was in general emotionally drained and needed an extra day of respite. I'm shitty at breakups, but even shittier at the tiny bullshits that keep people in ties with each other. That's my own bad, and I'm chalking it up to the long harsh toll of 34 years of unintended single hood. So I call out. Sorry to the regulars, but I do. Out of guilt, I decide to make it up to myself and do as much as I effing can. So I feel better.
An aside: it was recently brought to my attention that I have been here for a year. And while I know other people who have been here for less, I'm an activities-based person -- without them I generally stumble around, foolish, looking for another place to people watch if I'm not getting my rock on (or rocks off). But that doesn't matter so much.
The highlights:
- Venues -- The Mercury Lounge, The Bell House, Death by Audio. No order intended. Mercury Lounge, while a decent place, doesn't seem to mix well as a crowd placfe. The Bell House seems to have it, but is probably the biggest place I will see a show at. Death by Audio. Well, if you ever felt the need to be a potential extra in a serial killer drama of some sort, then bring friends. That being said, the most interesting of the three, and probably has the best talent running through.
- Williamsburg -- When going to said Death by Audio, naturally I had to run through here. I have heard it said that certain neighborhoods belong to a certain demographic, and you realize going in that they want as little to do with you and vice versa. That's how I feel in Billyburg. Much like the SF's Mission district, the amount of young, largely plaintively searching peoples makes me want to, if not gag, run for cover. I can assume that the neighborhood is different in packs -- being lone, intrepid explorer, I'd much rather spend my time elsewhere. It might be my own personal feeling in the area, but the amount of head-up-assishness is largely...underwhelming. But I'm not one to rock the boat there.
- Rooftops: Great for watching fireworks, albeit from a distance far enough removed it's more spectacle at how the smoke clears. But really, it's just great.
- Hanging out: To anybody wondering, I think I might have a new local. Not that it's too close to me, but it's everything I look for in a bar, meaning it's got cool people who will talk to the pathetic singleton loser at the other end.
- Working: God, I still need more days off. For people who are looking for some cheesecake, you won't get any.
I'm out. Talk at you all later.
Addendum: After writing this, lying down, sweating my balls off then sweating some more, I realized I forgot to add something. In the process of this blog a band of fireworks went off in the driveway below, shooting pebbles onto my arm, three stories up. The entire night has been electric with the snare beat of this little explosions, far away and near. I need to sleep, but the general chaos of the scene reminds me why it's great to be out of San Francisco. You'd get this a little bit in Chinatown for the new year, but I remember nothing approximating this. Like a small proxy war being fought out in the dim patch of 2 a.m. dusk. And like the Brits are still pissed, having tied that little World Cup thing, and have decided to re-invade after all these years.
Bombastic!
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