i'd stoop to that, sure i would

so last night, i set out to schuba's to see the band ida. they are a big big big favorite of mine, and they don't tour very often. gorgeous harmonies, hilarious banter, consummate musicians and music fans, radiant people. "the loudest quiet band i know," as one friend put it. being that i am a gyspy right now and had really not been in chicago in over a week, i only found out about the show that afternoon. and being that most of my friends are either unemployed and broke, or employed and busy, everyone i texted was either MIA or couldn't go. which is fine, it was an early show and i was just excited to hang out and hear the music.

i don't know how many of you are familiar with the music of ida. they are not easily pigeonholed, but the majority of their catalog could broadly fall into two categories: couple music, and sad bastard music. an ida concert is thus not a place to hit on chicks, at least not overtly. nevertheless, some poor bastard tried. relentlessly.

i will admit that i opened the door. it was dim, and i am chatty. the lead singer made some funny comment, and i looked over to whoever was next to me and said something like, "there's a kernel of truth to that." intended as acknowledgment/commentary and not macking, but whatever. regardless, this person did not say ANYTHING back, and said nothing at all for probably twenty-five minutes. then all of a sudden i'm getting offered a beer. (yeah, i took it. this is me we're talking about, here. and as the story will show, i earned it. (not that way, parish.))

immediately, this guy is peppering me with questions. i was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for showing some gumption, but at the same time, it's an IDA show and thus meant to be quiet most of the time. and he started gratuitously yapping about his band, and who they've toured with. (give me a FUCKING break. he even talked shit about ted leo!) so when the band started in on one of my favorite songs, i politely interrupted him and whispered, "sorry, i love this song." to which, out of the entire universe of words he could have used (not to mention, SILENCE), he chose to respond with, "you love it? do you wanna marry it?" Swear. To. God. that pretty much sealed his fate right there. what are we, in fourth grade?

mercifully, so mercifully, i spotted a friend of mine near the end of the show and, excusing myself, beelined over there, literally startling him due to my haste and palpable desperation. so in the end, it all worked out. i ditched the mongoloid, finagled a ride, and got home in time for the feist-fest on letterman.
but, lord.

i'd call it a win.

tonight i saw my perpetual crush object, andrew bird, at my favorite retail outlet, target. swiftly reaffirming the ruling status of both. clearly this proves that we are meant to be together. i mean, besides target, we have so much in common. we both went to northwestern, we both like his music. . .it's like we're the same person! if he bought a wine cube then we are soulmates. this on a day which already involved cookies, vietnamese food, and a massage. life can be good sometimes.

besides that. . .well, i guess there's a lot. exams and their aftermath, a new apartment and mulitple travels. it would be near-unreadable to catch up; i recommend you check the flickr, and maybe your inbox (sprawling emails are far easier to read than sprawling blog posts). the even money says i'll post some shit from youtube, though.