I'm excited for this weekend because it seems to be shaping up to be so different from the last two. Not that those two weekends weren't splendid, just that they were so similar. Gus' Thursday, Seahorse Friday, party Saturday. Which Seahorse show was it that I was rude to the guy offering me a beer?

(Hey, I got you this beer.
Oh. I got a beer.
Oh.
Well, I mean, thanks, but you gotta be weary of taking things from strangers.
Yeah, cuz this is totally chock full of pills.
Well, it might be. I mean, it's a nice gesture, but I don't know you. You never know, right?
Uh...
Well, why'd you get me that beer?
Just because.
Uh, I don't know what else to say.
That's okay.)

And he puts the beer on the table and slinks away. Oh. It was the Oh God show. Because Emily told me it was kinda creepy. He could've got it at the bar, so I could see the bartender open it. Or, he could've got the waitperson to bring it over. It's common sense. Like crossing the street instead of having a girl think you're following her. I still felt bad for the guy. Jake, Tobias, and I shared the beer later.

It was the next week, at the Hold show, that we decided squeaky girls are the best.

The Gus' nights were good too. Attack Mode was wild, and I did an amazing job [not] taping them. I mean I really got some [would be] great shots. It's too bad some people got kicked out, but that seems to have simmered. The next week, I witnessed a Simmons Spectacle. It was great. I enjoyed the Round Robin set and probably never would've been exposed to Tyler Messick's band, whom I enjoyed.

I made it to Dale's party in time to see the last band. Shapes and Cymbals. It was my second time seeing them. I like them. But I was wondering were my boy was. I found him, we watched the rest of the set, and went to Dale's room. We listened to Sloan in there. I enjoyed it for the first time in a decade. It was the Peppermint EP.

The next Saturday, I arrived at that cafe in time for the end of Shapes and Cymbals' set. This night, I didn't miss How Memory Works. But, after about 6 shows in two weeks, I didn't want to be at another one. The band was good, but I read my new knitting magazines. We stopped by Rachael's place. We didn't have beer (why was it left home?), so we didn't stay long. I wasn't feeling very social and found myself staring at my feet a lot. So, we went home.

Sunday, I watched Meet the Fockers and Saw.

Why is it always about starting over with you? My life doesn't begin or end with settling down with a man. I know yours depends on it, and I know I've been with this guy for a long time. But my life is my life. I complain about things, but I'm not about to start over. I don't call you much anymore, because every time I do you mention starting over, and suggest moving to Arkansas (or wherever it is you're living at the time) and tell me you could've had a great job for me. Please don't put that snobby, American bullshit on me that you can't understand why I stay here. If you don't understand, then I can't explain it to you. It's all about loving it here. It's about loving people here. It's about bands, and liking my [non-successful] job. It's not about the money.

Ian Hart is in town.

This Day last year, I was supposed to be looking for a job.