Tavie
dave foley
mark mckinney
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blogs i like:

amy
andrew
carl
barb cooking blog
boing boing
caroline
cartoon brew
chris
cityroom
consumerist
erin
gena/ deadly stealth frogs
gothamist
jim hill
kids in the hall lj
kithblog
matt k
mike t
nathan
post secret
rynn
sarah
sarah c
sean
tea rose
toby
tom


webcomics i read:
american elf
american stickman
elfquest
lolcats!
masque of the red death
the perry bible fellowship
toothpaste for dinner
ultrajoebot
xkcd

Other places to find me:
me on the tumblr
me on the flickr
me on the formspring
me on the twitter
me on the ravelry
me on the myspace

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i want:
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?
Thursday, August 15, 2002
Our Lady Peace. It was what I needed: the ear-splitting rhythms, the throbbing crowd, the songs I wasn't familiar with but which were as far from Sondheim as songs could get, the unthreateningly sexy lead singer, the flashing coloured lights, the close contact of complete strangers. It was like tasty medicine, the good kind, like cherry-flavoured baby aspirin (yum!). Even after my feet were numb and I was near-fainting from sleepiness, it was good shtuff, good shtuff.

Frightening: a guy directly behind me fainted during the second warm-up's set. The girl he was with fell to her knees, screaming his name over and over hysterically. The crowd around them (me included) parted a little, looking around anxiously for security; the rest of the crowd continued to thrum. As quickly as he had fallen, he was up on his feet again and they had disappeared into the crowd. Disturbing.

Funny: nothing funnier than someone who is thrown into a mosh pit and allowed to fall to the ground, rejected by the crowd.

Funny 2: near the end of the show, lead OLP guy said, "New York, let me see your hands!" Not being much for arm-waving, my hands remained in my pockets. The girl standing behind me, a hard-core fan whose comments had amused me throughout the evening, evidently decided this warranted punishment, for I swear to god I felt the mosquito-esque sting of a single hair being pulled slowly and deliberately out of my scalp. I swear I didn't imagine it; the girl was punishing me for not throwing my arms in the air and wavin' 'em like I just don't care!

Frightening 2: Lots of cops and police barricades blocking off the streets surrounding the Hammerstein ballroom. A lone tour bus, U-Haul attached, sat askew in the middle of the street. Tommy interrogated a subway employee and found out that the bus belonging to Greenwheel, one of the opening acts, had hit a pedestrian. The pedestrian was nowhere to be seen, but neither was there a chalk outline in sight, so that's good, anyway. Yikes.