oops...i did it again

So there I was at the local diner. It's called a diner, but it doesn't feel like one like The Diner does, but I suppose there's no better word for it. And at least it's not a Denny's. I wasn't hungry, and I was broke, and the girls who had said they were going to be there had already left--we'd seen them go--so there was really no reason for me to be there.

Roommate M (soon to be ex-roommate M; he's moving out on Monday) ordered himself some food to go; we were both giddy drunk. He ordered me two english muffins.

He had that look that people have when they're about to move on to the next stage of their life, but are forlorn about leaving the past stage behind. I know that look because I seem to have it monthly. ...

And before I can stop myself, I'm imparting my wisdom again. I dont' know where it comes from, but it seemed to help. It worried me. I would rather sound like a raving lunatic, I think. At least then I wouldn't feel so old.

I was really ranting and raving too--about going for the brass ring and fuck everyone else. You've got to go for yours, which I believe in to some extent. You have to go for what you want in life, because you don't get many chances...but I'm pontificating again. I don't advocate the gung-ho capitalist step on as many toes as you can along the way ideal; I just think dreams are important, and when you let them die, you die with them.

See? I'm like a fortune cookie with out the poetic turns of phrase. I'm a monster, and I need to be put down.

I got to play guitar today with roommate D and had a lot of fun. I swear there are moments when I think to myself, "yeah, I should do this. Start a band, get on stage, play the rock." But then I remember how deathly afraid I am of getting in front of people. I had to 'act'--I use the term loosely, because I didn't really act, I just repeated my lines in a very orderly and on-time fashion; there was no feeling or craft behind them--to help out a friend once. She offered to buy me a pizza and I only had five or so short lines, but I probably would have done it anyway. I knew my little part backwards and forwards, and then I got in front of the classroom, and I thought I was going to die.

In true Pavlov's dog fashion--which is how I do most things in life--I focused on the pizza and said everything when I was supposed to. I even got all the words right. The whole time, I felt as if my insides were hollowed out. I couldn't wait for those people to stop looking at me. It was an awful feeling, and one I hope to never have again; but the pizza was pretty damn good.

I got to see the Unicorns on Friday, and that was pretty damn fun. They played this gigantic venue on campus, opening for Ben Kweller. The room they played in can fit well over 1,000 people I'd imagine. It's like a giant high school gymnasium; it looks like a place that would host the homecoming dance. The venue has no personality other than its vastness. Of course, neither the Unicorns or Kweller are household names, but a good 300 to 400 people showed up, which is a good turn out; however, the venue still looked empty.

The Unicorns perhaps looked more out of place than any band ever to grace the stage--Pedro the Lion included--and appeared much like some shitty band that had wandered in off the street after playing their living room a couple of times. There was something unbelievably charming about it, though, and I didn't realize how much I liked them until they were gone. It took a little while for them to warm up to the crowd--horribly beautiful college (university, S.) freshman girls, freshman dudes who looked like they couldn't wait till snowboarding season started, bro, and the tragically hip and dorky--and vice versa. About four songs into the set, they'd finally hit a stride. The three of them were hilarious and they played their jerky little songs with so much conviction, you could have sworn they were classics, and some of them are. The crowd started to laugh at their jokes, their crazy behavior and head bob to the songs, but about two songs later they were given the sign to stop, and some became rather disappointed. They ended with "Sea Ghost," which made me happy, but I really wanted to see them play more; their set only went about 25 minutes to a half-hour.

Ben Kweller made me fell really old, and his pants were far too tight, but the kid could play, even if he did look like this generation's answer to Danny Bonaduce. His songs were all really basic, but the crowd was stoked on him; duded who would have picked on him in high school pumped their fists, and girls who never would have talked to him back then were writhing about and saying how cute he was. There was this one dude in front of me who stunk of liquor and kept pumping his fist or hopping up and down, which is what you should do when you like a concert, and then turned around to look behind him as if to see if anyone else was doing it; like he didn't want to be the only one rocking out. It's okay, dude. Go on with your bad self, bro.