There's nothing like coming home to an apartment full of 18 year old boys. And, they're cooking me dinner. It makes me feel old to talk to them about being engaged, and realize that I was their age when I met the man I've been with for almost 7 years. But even that was a few days ago. I'm behind.

So, to start where I left off with the last long entry. I blame my outburst mentioned then on dying my hair red.

February 20th, KC repeatedly called me "Piss Ass." I think there's something wrong with him, if that's what urine smells like to him. We also set a date that night. But, I'm not going to announce it until I see some actual progress in the planning. The hardest part right now is finding a venue. Where do people get married when they don't want a church and it's the time of year that it can't really be done outside? This may disappoint some of you, but we've decided against Liverpool. We don't want a Lane's or White Point wedding like everyone else (not that yours wasn't fun or beautiful). Besides, if my family has to travel from Ontario, Alberta, and Arkansas, his can travel from the South Shore.

Then came Monday, and another work week. Thursday, was another Oh God show. At the Attic with the Stolen Minks. I had said I wasn't going to go (the people at the jam spot will remember why), got in trouble for being rude, and then ended up being talked into going. I was craving some time to myself. Like KC said to me a week prior, I'm not in Oh God and don't have to go to their shows. But, I'm glad I did. I had a good time. I had deja vu at the Apple Barrel. The kind that hasn't happened in awhile. I actually found myself remembering a conversation the guy and I had a year ago about a dream. He told me, then, that it was funny that I dreamt he, Gerry, the This Message guys, and the Joey Ramone guy were all in a band together. But, I certainly dreamt of Ger's chicken strips having AIDS.

During their set, I found myself wondering where my rage was. It came out the week before at a man trying to do his job at a bar that I love (that now smells like puke), but couldn't even muster a "HEY!!" this night. At one point, I looked down, and Gerry's head was at my feet, the bouncer was on top of him, squishing him, and his face was bright red. Emily yelled something, and soon, he was back on stage for their last song. All in all, I'm glad I didn't create more of a scene. I managed to move on from the 'Horse incident. A task that would be much more difficult at the Attic. I was angry, though. How could the bouncer not see the bully pull the leg? How could he not realize that people react without thinking when their nuts get smashed? Do his nuts not feel anything anymore because of 'roids? I don't know.

The next night, Friday, was Gilbert Switzer at the Whyte house. I've been getting sick of parties lately, but this was one I wanted to attend. Fuck, that was a good time.

Nothing much for the following week sticks out in my mind. Oh, was that the Sunday we had the meeting? It was. The Hold and Gilbert Switzer are doing a split 7". We will also be covering one of each other's songs for it. We set up a meeting for Robie Food. I was excited because I've actually never been there. We got there at 4:00. Doors were locked. We hung out in the cold, drove around the city, and sat in a car in the parking lot until a little after 4:30. Still locked. We went to the Ardmore instead. So, my first time at Robie Food is just like my first time at the Palace--still hasn't happened.

More work and shit and then GS with Gary Flanagan at Gus's. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. He might read it. That Dog Day band is playing with him soon. It was my first time at Gus's since that trivia night when I lost the vibrator. It was a good time, but Christ, I know the TINY drafts were only a dollar something, but they were gross and tiny. The BOTTLES are still only $3.50. I mean, sure, sometimes a person is broke, and having hit H&R Block, I wasn't, but... It was so great to see GS play there and trash the drums. I couldn't care less for Gary (why is the phrase could care less? If you could care less, then you actually care. I couldn't care less). I mean, I didn't expect to enjoy it anyway, and I could see how the novelty of laughing at him could be fun in the right time, but if I want to watch karaoke, I'd rather see different people and have my own chance to make a fool out of myself. Well, I guess it was a little more than karaoke if he programmed those songs into the keyboard himself. I guess in the end, it's just "not my thing."

We ended up at a friend's place after Gus's, as it was 3 seconds away. We got home and rubbed each other's genitals, half asleep through the whole thing.

The Hold played the Seahorse the next night. Did you notice who wasn't there? I guess I ended up keeping my drunken ranting word: "I'm not coming back until..." But really, I know it wasn't me. A place that's having trouble convincing its owner to keep it open, doesn't need the kind of publicity it got in last week's Coast.*

I thought the show was good, for the most part. Saturday, some boys came from Truro. KC and Darcy recorded them, and they crashed at my house. Which is funny, cuz there's nowhere to have guests sleep at my house. Especially 4 of them.

Uh, yeah, it's that chores before work time.

*Love the Way We Bitch:

Rough times
To the rule-happy bouncer at the the Mantra show on Saturday: It's
unfortunate you have to enforce a new bullshit no-moshing policy that was
supposedly adopted for patron safety, and I could rant about how impractical it
is to implement a moshing ban at a fucking punk/metal bar, but what really
sticks in my craw is you were the most dangerous motherfucker in the mosh pit
the last show I saw. Actually, come to think of it you weren't even in the pit,
you were standing at its perimeter shoving people when they got too close to
your authority loving gelatinous body. Twice I saw you forcibly shove someone to
the ground. Fuck you. --One P.O.'d Patron

And, well, I thought there was a SNARK as well. Can't find it on the website, but I will edit this later when I get my hands on a paper copy.

edit to add the SNARK:

February 27, 1:10 am (male voice): Hey man, I was at a fucking metal show at the Seahorse and there was some steriod freak pussy bitch who was a bouncer and was like, "no moshing." It's like, what the fuck is that shit, man? You can't fucking ban moshing with bands like Huge and Mantra playing, and Band from Television? What the fuck is that shit? This is the only venue left and he's banning moshing? My fucking ass!

This day last year, school was getting rough, and Homer expressed his love for me (probably Sunday night).

--Why do I keep saying things I shouldn't say here? Oh. Because I'm expressing my true thoughts; an action that is looked down upon in Halifax. Please note, I shouldn't have said anything about that old band a few posts ago. Although it excited me, it wasn't my news to spread, and it probably won't happen.