"...i'm so much older than i can taaaake"
Oct. 13th, 2005 04:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
verbicideTired. Tired. Tired.
Went to The Killers concert last night at the Key Arena. And it was...fun. They sang well, which was good. But they are clearly a small-venue band. The Key Arena completely engulfed them. They didn't provide screens, so all we could see from our vantage point were little stick people hopping around. Which, for me, defeats the purpose of seeing a band live.
Also their cover of Bowie didn't come near Maroon 5's Highway to Hell. Which I will never get over because it ruled.
The opening band, British Sea Power, were pretty good. They also had a member who ran amok with a drum, banging on it and hopping over people in the rows. Which was entertaining. He tried to crowd surf, but security stepped in with a resounding NO.
The funniest thing about the concert was the drunk couple in front of us. Relatively young, the woman was teaching her enthusiastic mate how to dance. She would stop, explain very seriously that he needed to watch her, and then just spaz out with her hip-swinging, hand-waving moves. It was hilarious. Particularly when he would follow suit. At first I thought I was going to have to break both of his arms, because he kept swinging them up in front of my face, blocking the stage, but eventually I realized that a) I couldn't see anything on the stage, and b) he was having entirely too much fun for me to begrudge him. I have a soft spot for guys who can make absolute fools out of themselves. As opposed to guys who are absolute fools, an important distinction.
The concert ended and Sarah and I made our way back to her place, where she passed on a Decemberists cd, because they are very cool and I want to know them better before their concert.
And I was so excited to go home and sleep but then I remembered that I needed to make the dish I signed up for the office babyshower potluck. Dammit. I drove to QFC, spent 10 minutes buying ingredients, and hustled home. I'm glad I changed the dish I promised from the lasagna to the baked ziti. I've made it a thousand times and it can be scaled from either involved (homemade sauce with sauteed veggies) to no-brainer (Newman's Sockarooni). I've made it enough times that I didn't have to think. I just boiled the pasta, browned the meat and slapped the layers together (sauce, pasta, muenster cheese) while watching the Daily Show. I put it in the fridge to bake this morning so it wouldn't take much to reheat it at lunch in our office microwave.
Tami's shower went really well. She was pinkly happy and today is her last day, because she is about to eject baby Evan. I'm really going to miss her while she's on maternity leave.
I keep thinking today is Friday. Because Tami's shower was originally planned for Friday. But it's tragically Thursday. But at least it's almost over! And I shamelessly stole the rest of the pesto pasta Jeff made, so dinner's covered. It's really exceptionally good. I can't recommend a better choice in friends than a gourmet Italian. Everyone should stock their friendship stores with one. But you can't have Jeff. So neeener.
Went to The Killers concert last night at the Key Arena. And it was...fun. They sang well, which was good. But they are clearly a small-venue band. The Key Arena completely engulfed them. They didn't provide screens, so all we could see from our vantage point were little stick people hopping around. Which, for me, defeats the purpose of seeing a band live.
Also their cover of Bowie didn't come near Maroon 5's Highway to Hell. Which I will never get over because it ruled.
The opening band, British Sea Power, were pretty good. They also had a member who ran amok with a drum, banging on it and hopping over people in the rows. Which was entertaining. He tried to crowd surf, but security stepped in with a resounding NO.
The funniest thing about the concert was the drunk couple in front of us. Relatively young, the woman was teaching her enthusiastic mate how to dance. She would stop, explain very seriously that he needed to watch her, and then just spaz out with her hip-swinging, hand-waving moves. It was hilarious. Particularly when he would follow suit. At first I thought I was going to have to break both of his arms, because he kept swinging them up in front of my face, blocking the stage, but eventually I realized that a) I couldn't see anything on the stage, and b) he was having entirely too much fun for me to begrudge him. I have a soft spot for guys who can make absolute fools out of themselves. As opposed to guys who are absolute fools, an important distinction.
The concert ended and Sarah and I made our way back to her place, where she passed on a Decemberists cd, because they are very cool and I want to know them better before their concert.
And I was so excited to go home and sleep but then I remembered that I needed to make the dish I signed up for the office babyshower potluck. Dammit. I drove to QFC, spent 10 minutes buying ingredients, and hustled home. I'm glad I changed the dish I promised from the lasagna to the baked ziti. I've made it a thousand times and it can be scaled from either involved (homemade sauce with sauteed veggies) to no-brainer (Newman's Sockarooni). I've made it enough times that I didn't have to think. I just boiled the pasta, browned the meat and slapped the layers together (sauce, pasta, muenster cheese) while watching the Daily Show. I put it in the fridge to bake this morning so it wouldn't take much to reheat it at lunch in our office microwave.
Tami's shower went really well. She was pinkly happy and today is her last day, because she is about to eject baby Evan. I'm really going to miss her while she's on maternity leave.
I keep thinking today is Friday. Because Tami's shower was originally planned for Friday. But it's tragically Thursday. But at least it's almost over! And I shamelessly stole the rest of the pesto pasta Jeff made, so dinner's covered. It's really exceptionally good. I can't recommend a better choice in friends than a gourmet Italian. Everyone should stock their friendship stores with one. But you can't have Jeff. So neeener.
