Today is the first time in days that I've been able to breathe through my mouth without coughing. It's a red banner day.
The cold hit me around 10:30am on Wednesday. I can pinpoint the approximate time because I though I was having an allergic reaction to the sunflower seeds I was covertly eating at my desk (they were dill pickle and are very tasty, but sort of disgusting to eat while typing on a computer near windows where everyone that passes by can see through). By the end of the day I was miserable. It didn't help that I had to wait for almost an hour for the first bus in a torrential downpour. My feet were wet, I was cold, and I knew I'd have to get reinforcements for the next few days. By the time I got home almost 3 hours after work, I was feeling like crap and promptly fell asleep, completely missing the Hidden Cameras show. That sucked. Missing my friend's wedding reception on Friday also sucked. Double sucked.
Because I had to teach a library skills class on Thursday afternoon, I went into work. A couple of co-workers were not very happy with me, but my options were few since no one else could/wanted to do the class. By the end of the class (talking for an hour when you want to rip your throat out is hell), I was ready to go home. I left a half hour early, but my boss drove me home to my door, which was nice. I drank my bodyweight in tea and lost my appetite. (I wish I would lose my appetite more often. It would make things so much easier.)
I have somehow managed to pull myself together a little bit and get on with stuff. I started on one of the major projects that needs to be done, so hopefully the momentum will get me through a few of them. If I want limoncello by Christmas (and I do) I am a month late. But I have time for a variety of candy and cookies and cakes (but no room in the freezer to store anything) and maybe some homemade bacon for friends who will be moving in a few weeks.
The idea of getting ready for Christmas is hilarious to me. I'm just trying to get through the next couple of weeks in one piece.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
not all puppy dogs and rainbows...
...but close.Basically no one will ever know this otherwise, but I've just unveiled my new winter pyjamas for the season. I kind of like that they all look either wide awake or terrifyingly shocked about something. They are little comforting friends that I crush on a nightly basis. These replace the fall line, the cherry blossom pyjamas from JoeFresh that I have grown to love.
Pyjamas are kind of strange to me. Until last month, I'd never bought pyjamas before. I hadn't even gotten pyjamas as a gift or as a replacement or anything since I was around 12. But an ex-boyfriend once commented that my scrubs were not appropriate sleeping attire ("they look like you found them in a dumpster") and I should update my sleeping wardrobe. I, of course, continued to wear scrubs to piss him off and now they require more constant fixing than I can keep up with. Thus the fall/winter line.
Were I not a cold sleeper, this wouldn't even come up. But I am always cold and have come to rely on warm pyjamas to keep my body temperature up. These ones are no Auntie Mame-style silk Chinese pyjamas or anything, but to me they're close.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
tipping point
The only thing I found to do this weekend was go to the cemetery by myself to learn about dead people, and I talked myself out of going because of my state.
My house is beginning to resemble a hoarder's home, full of piles of things that someone with hoarding issues just leaves in the hopes it will disappear on its own. The projects for this fall, some that are extremely timely and that are overdue to be done, sit in piles untouched and remind me of my failure to come through on them. I have no interest in cooking for myself at all; I wish Meals-on-wheels were available for 36-year-olds. When I looked in the mirror tonight I realised that I am becoming an old-looking woman. I didn't even bother getting out of my pyjamas today because there didn't seem to be any point. I think I may be in the process of giving up.
And it may just be that "Sense and Sensibility" is on and I'm identifying with Eleanor especially today (except for the part when her life turns out as she'd hoped) and it's just one of those days. But I think, since this latest birthday, I really don't see the point of much a lot of the time anymore.
The people around me have lives that are always evolving, with new relationships and engagements and marriages, new jobs, new children to love, new houses. Notable things. Longlasting things. And it's good to know people who have lives that are meaningful and fulfilling and who are content. I just don't know why they would want to be friends with me sometimes. All I bring is superficiality, and at some point, possibly quite soon, they will see that I'm not bringing much to our friendship; some already have cut their losses. I don't want to be the friend that they listen to and, after I'm gone, hug their loved ones a little closer, comforted that their lives are more pleasing than mine.
If the psychics over the years are right, this could be my midlife crisis. If they're wrong... then I just don't know. I realised I'll be 37 next year and it made me feel really strange, really empty. Really old for the first time. It feels like a more severe reverse culture shock. I think my temporary job is killing me.
My house is beginning to resemble a hoarder's home, full of piles of things that someone with hoarding issues just leaves in the hopes it will disappear on its own. The projects for this fall, some that are extremely timely and that are overdue to be done, sit in piles untouched and remind me of my failure to come through on them. I have no interest in cooking for myself at all; I wish Meals-on-wheels were available for 36-year-olds. When I looked in the mirror tonight I realised that I am becoming an old-looking woman. I didn't even bother getting out of my pyjamas today because there didn't seem to be any point. I think I may be in the process of giving up.
And it may just be that "Sense and Sensibility" is on and I'm identifying with Eleanor especially today (except for the part when her life turns out as she'd hoped) and it's just one of those days. But I think, since this latest birthday, I really don't see the point of much a lot of the time anymore.
The people around me have lives that are always evolving, with new relationships and engagements and marriages, new jobs, new children to love, new houses. Notable things. Longlasting things. And it's good to know people who have lives that are meaningful and fulfilling and who are content. I just don't know why they would want to be friends with me sometimes. All I bring is superficiality, and at some point, possibly quite soon, they will see that I'm not bringing much to our friendship; some already have cut their losses. I don't want to be the friend that they listen to and, after I'm gone, hug their loved ones a little closer, comforted that their lives are more pleasing than mine.
If the psychics over the years are right, this could be my midlife crisis. If they're wrong... then I just don't know. I realised I'll be 37 next year and it made me feel really strange, really empty. Really old for the first time. It feels like a more severe reverse culture shock. I think my temporary job is killing me.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
emptying the pockets
You'd think, after the enormous KitchenAid mixer purchase of Friday the 13th, I'd have a tighter grip on my purse strings. Alas, this is not so.
When I leave my house, trouble ensues. When I stay home, I don't really spend much money unless I see postings for new cookbooks that look awesome.
Yesterday I went out for all of two hours and came home with fabric for a dress and a bunch of groceries. I did discover that the new London Drugs near Cambie on Broadway carries Baconnaise, which is just the sweetest discovery of the week. (OK, maybe the second sweetest.) Last night I didn't do anything, but did order a couple of books that I've had my eye on for a bit: Ad Hoc at home and Field guide to candy. That should have been the end of the insanity.
I made plans with Jill to go to the 21st Century Flea Market at the Croatian Cultural Centre this morning. I just thought it would be a fun way to spend the morning/early afternoon, checking to see if I could find pigskin trays (it's the one thing I never find at flea markets/charity shops/thrift stores). Tangiene came as well and we got there shortly after it opened. I was doing fine, and was easily able to crush those feelings of longing for coloured Pyrex and Pyrex pouring bowls and pineapple Fire King mugs and all the sparkly costume jewelry. Then I saw it: a rather large set of china that was nearly perfectly perfect, except no soup/rim bowls.
It's a pattern I've seen before and admired, though generally just a couple of pieces and not nearly the set I saw. When the guy said it was $60 for the whole set... I walked around for a bit thinking about it, but kind of knew that it was a done deal if it was still there when I got back there. It's Foley Fern china and the set included:
- 7 dinner plates
- 8 salad plates
- 6 dessert plates
- 6 saucers
- 5 cups
- a gravy boat and plate
- 2 serving bowls
- large serving platter
The little touch of pink inside the bowls and cups really sold it. I love silver and pink more than a woman of my age should. And, considering the gravy boat and plate alone goes for around $35, I'm feeling pretty comfortable with the set.
Now, if only I had a tree of money, I wouldn't be internally freaking out about money right now.
When I leave my house, trouble ensues. When I stay home, I don't really spend much money unless I see postings for new cookbooks that look awesome.
Yesterday I went out for all of two hours and came home with fabric for a dress and a bunch of groceries. I did discover that the new London Drugs near Cambie on Broadway carries Baconnaise, which is just the sweetest discovery of the week. (OK, maybe the second sweetest.) Last night I didn't do anything, but did order a couple of books that I've had my eye on for a bit: Ad Hoc at home and Field guide to candy. That should have been the end of the insanity.
I made plans with Jill to go to the 21st Century Flea Market at the Croatian Cultural Centre this morning. I just thought it would be a fun way to spend the morning/early afternoon, checking to see if I could find pigskin trays (it's the one thing I never find at flea markets/charity shops/thrift stores). Tangiene came as well and we got there shortly after it opened. I was doing fine, and was easily able to crush those feelings of longing for coloured Pyrex and Pyrex pouring bowls and pineapple Fire King mugs and all the sparkly costume jewelry. Then I saw it: a rather large set of china that was nearly perfectly perfect, except no soup/rim bowls.
It's a pattern I've seen before and admired, though generally just a couple of pieces and not nearly the set I saw. When the guy said it was $60 for the whole set... I walked around for a bit thinking about it, but kind of knew that it was a done deal if it was still there when I got back there. It's Foley Fern china and the set included:
- 7 dinner plates
- 8 salad plates
- 6 dessert plates
- 6 saucers
- 5 cups
- a gravy boat and plate
- 2 serving bowls
- large serving platter
The little touch of pink inside the bowls and cups really sold it. I love silver and pink more than a woman of my age should. And, considering the gravy boat and plate alone goes for around $35, I'm feeling pretty comfortable with the set.Now, if only I had a tree of money, I wouldn't be internally freaking out about money right now.
Friday, November 13, 2009
under the duvet
This was supposed to be the year of doing stuff alone. It hasn't really turned out that way.
I have a ticket to a rock show tonight, a dancing show, and I want nothing more than to lay curled up under my duvet. I keep putting off leaving for it, to the point that I'm getting close to being too late. In the past, just having a ticket was incentive enough to go to shows that I'd lost enthusiasm for. Now... now I just hem and haw about it, deciding not to go even though it would probably be a fun show. There's still a slim chance, I suppose, but the thought of battling with American Apparel kids makes my tummy sick. Dancing shows alone are just not a whole lot of fun.
After work today I headed downtown for a dress sale that was even more than disappointing. Not a single dress did I like, which is pretty unheard of. I decided to check out the china department, only to discover there's nothing there. No dresses, no china... Off to housewares to make sense of the insanity of the department store. I looked at popcorn poppers, including one extremely similar to the one my mom had when I was a kid. I also like to look at stand mixers, just in case there's something new and exciting to see. Generally I just sigh and hang my head because I can't afford them. Today I happened to see some older KitchenAid models on for, like, $240 off. There was a black one and I thought to myself, well, no point waiting for wedding gifts because that's never going to happen, so might as well... Might as well drop a few hundred bucks for something I've been longing for for years. Might as well spend my meager wage on something I'll love, even though my savings are low. Might as well put all my eggs into a shiny chrome bowl and mix the crap out of them on 10.
The KitchenAid, the iron pot, the china settings... these are the things to keep me company when I become a shut-in, avoiding shows I have tickets for. We will all sit under the duvet, the cold metal and porcelain making goose bumps on my arms as I hold them close to me. We will have tea parties and make bread and roast chickens together, just them and me.
OMG, I'm watching a video of The Horrors and they're, like, so my ex-boyfriend of '92. Hair and all. Fake-sounding British accent included. So weird to see my life replayed by kids half my age. Proof it's all over for me; I've been replaced. I'm finding the fuzzy shoegazing revival really hard to get used to.
I have a ticket to a rock show tonight, a dancing show, and I want nothing more than to lay curled up under my duvet. I keep putting off leaving for it, to the point that I'm getting close to being too late. In the past, just having a ticket was incentive enough to go to shows that I'd lost enthusiasm for. Now... now I just hem and haw about it, deciding not to go even though it would probably be a fun show. There's still a slim chance, I suppose, but the thought of battling with American Apparel kids makes my tummy sick. Dancing shows alone are just not a whole lot of fun.
After work today I headed downtown for a dress sale that was even more than disappointing. Not a single dress did I like, which is pretty unheard of. I decided to check out the china department, only to discover there's nothing there. No dresses, no china... Off to housewares to make sense of the insanity of the department store. I looked at popcorn poppers, including one extremely similar to the one my mom had when I was a kid. I also like to look at stand mixers, just in case there's something new and exciting to see. Generally I just sigh and hang my head because I can't afford them. Today I happened to see some older KitchenAid models on for, like, $240 off. There was a black one and I thought to myself, well, no point waiting for wedding gifts because that's never going to happen, so might as well... Might as well drop a few hundred bucks for something I've been longing for for years. Might as well spend my meager wage on something I'll love, even though my savings are low. Might as well put all my eggs into a shiny chrome bowl and mix the crap out of them on 10.
The KitchenAid, the iron pot, the china settings... these are the things to keep me company when I become a shut-in, avoiding shows I have tickets for. We will all sit under the duvet, the cold metal and porcelain making goose bumps on my arms as I hold them close to me. We will have tea parties and make bread and roast chickens together, just them and me.
OMG, I'm watching a video of The Horrors and they're, like, so my ex-boyfriend of '92. Hair and all. Fake-sounding British accent included. So weird to see my life replayed by kids half my age. Proof it's all over for me; I've been replaced. I'm finding the fuzzy shoegazing revival really hard to get used to.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
organ lottery
Just finished watching Independent Lens on PBS. Tonight's film made me bawl, complete with snotty nose and hiccups. "D Tour" is about Pat Spurgeon of Rogue Wave's failing kidney and hunt for a living donor while continuing to tour with the band. Imagine dialysis on the road. It was amazing and inspiring and heartbreaking...
One of the potential donors was his then-bandmate's wife, who was adamant that she wanted to give him one of her kidneys. She was ruled out because of a kidney stone, but the dialogue she and her husband had set the stage for his unexpected death and subsequent organ donation to four recipients. Watching her meet two of the recipients really set off the waterworks.
Over the years I've had the forms to become an organ donor and the thing that keeps stopping me is a stupid thing: it asks for your SIN number. Like, my privacy has meant more to me than organ donation. I haven't trusted that the people who manage human organs can keep a stupid SIN number from falling into the wrong hands. It seems so stupid because it is so stupid. It feels like it's time to revisit those forms and register.
One of the potential donors was his then-bandmate's wife, who was adamant that she wanted to give him one of her kidneys. She was ruled out because of a kidney stone, but the dialogue she and her husband had set the stage for his unexpected death and subsequent organ donation to four recipients. Watching her meet two of the recipients really set off the waterworks.
Over the years I've had the forms to become an organ donor and the thing that keeps stopping me is a stupid thing: it asks for your SIN number. Like, my privacy has meant more to me than organ donation. I haven't trusted that the people who manage human organs can keep a stupid SIN number from falling into the wrong hands. It seems so stupid because it is so stupid. It feels like it's time to revisit those forms and register.
Monday, November 9, 2009
shredded
A long time ago two of my oldest friends came to my house because I wouldn't go outside for weeks at a time except to work. They were concerned. They staged a bit of an intervention, forcing me outside while they cleaned up my house and made me eat beef and basically tried to shake me out of the weird funk I was in. Things were better after that; I moved less than 6 months later and went to university and things were different.
I find myself slinking back into that state every so often. Usually I'll come home one day and realise the house is out of control and that I have hours of shredding ahead of me and it's time to take stuff to the charity shop and the dust bunnies behind the couch are the size of a small cat. Sometimes I just move and rely on others' disapproval to shame me into getting it together. Surveying the room right now... It might be getting close to that weird stage again.
Admittedly, it's been worse here than it is now. But I'm supposed to have my shit together now. I'm not supposed to have signs of cracking. And yet... There they are.
Clutter experts say that a cluttered home is a cluttered mind. Apparently depression has a direct correlation to the state of one's home. I'm not feeling depressed, at least not to the extent I have in the past, yet my house indicates something is not right.
--------------
Yesterday I went to Fabricland for $2 Simplicity patterns (I bought 5) and half price bargain centre fabric (I bought 7 metres, three different, for $14). Ridiculous. But I'm feeling a bit mod lately and wanted to get some patterns/fabric to expand my dress repertoire. (I don't look mod in any way except for maybe my legwear, which is not enough to declare I'm a mod, because I don't listen to enough northern soul for that to be true. I don't even own a The New Constitution album!) Two of the patterns are retro (one '50s, the other '60s), two are retro-ish and the third is just sort of cute casual.
Following that I rode the bus forever and went to Rich and Christy's for dinner and a hangout. We had a lively discussion with his sister and her boyfriend about ghosts and premonitions and believing in encounters or not believing or whatever. It was pretty fun and I had to drag myself away just before 11pm so I could get up for work.
Which reminds me... I should go to bed.
I find myself slinking back into that state every so often. Usually I'll come home one day and realise the house is out of control and that I have hours of shredding ahead of me and it's time to take stuff to the charity shop and the dust bunnies behind the couch are the size of a small cat. Sometimes I just move and rely on others' disapproval to shame me into getting it together. Surveying the room right now... It might be getting close to that weird stage again.
Admittedly, it's been worse here than it is now. But I'm supposed to have my shit together now. I'm not supposed to have signs of cracking. And yet... There they are.
Clutter experts say that a cluttered home is a cluttered mind. Apparently depression has a direct correlation to the state of one's home. I'm not feeling depressed, at least not to the extent I have in the past, yet my house indicates something is not right.
--------------
Yesterday I went to Fabricland for $2 Simplicity patterns (I bought 5) and half price bargain centre fabric (I bought 7 metres, three different, for $14). Ridiculous. But I'm feeling a bit mod lately and wanted to get some patterns/fabric to expand my dress repertoire. (I don't look mod in any way except for maybe my legwear, which is not enough to declare I'm a mod, because I don't listen to enough northern soul for that to be true. I don't even own a The New Constitution album!) Two of the patterns are retro (one '50s, the other '60s), two are retro-ish and the third is just sort of cute casual.
Following that I rode the bus forever and went to Rich and Christy's for dinner and a hangout. We had a lively discussion with his sister and her boyfriend about ghosts and premonitions and believing in encounters or not believing or whatever. It was pretty fun and I had to drag myself away just before 11pm so I could get up for work.
Which reminds me... I should go to bed.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
the fear of what-ifs
Daniel Johnston's "True love will find you in the end" has been running through my head and it's making me almost crazy, as usual. I have a weird sinking feeling this time, though, that maybe I'm doomed and he's wrong.
Earlier this week I met my friend Simone to see Coco Avant Chanel at Fifth Ave. We'd been talking about it for ages, so were pretty keyed up for it. It was a decent movie, revealing little about Chanel that I didn't already know, but seeing the drama of her life recreated was interesting. The actor who played Boy Capel... He was smouldering. Alessandro Nivola's little moustache and penetrating eyes made us swoon. But it was the relationship between Boy and Chanel that sort of floored me.
Again, it wasn't a surprise at all, but for some reason it really hit me. I used to think she was terrible for carrying on with a married man for so long, but now... Not that I think she was right to be involved with him, but I understand now why it went on so long. Sometimes it just so happens that the person you're meant for is married to someone else.
I can't help thinking of Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. Desk Set is again fresh in my mind and it's still sad to me that they had to hide their relationship for so long because he wouldn't divorce his estranged wife. Another reason to resent Vatican II.
The thing that has been making me feel so uncomfortable the last few days is that the worry I used to carry around with me is back. My dearest friend and I have had a rocky relationship over the years, the worst of it when he got married without telling me. The similarity to the Boy/Chanel relationship was not lost on me. But the thing that I've always been worried about was that something would happen to him and I wouldn't know. But I've really tried not to think of that and just be content that our friendship is active and we are OK. Boy's car accident hit a bit too close to my heart. The worry is back.
Earlier this week I met my friend Simone to see Coco Avant Chanel at Fifth Ave. We'd been talking about it for ages, so were pretty keyed up for it. It was a decent movie, revealing little about Chanel that I didn't already know, but seeing the drama of her life recreated was interesting. The actor who played Boy Capel... He was smouldering. Alessandro Nivola's little moustache and penetrating eyes made us swoon. But it was the relationship between Boy and Chanel that sort of floored me.
Again, it wasn't a surprise at all, but for some reason it really hit me. I used to think she was terrible for carrying on with a married man for so long, but now... Not that I think she was right to be involved with him, but I understand now why it went on so long. Sometimes it just so happens that the person you're meant for is married to someone else.
I can't help thinking of Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. Desk Set is again fresh in my mind and it's still sad to me that they had to hide their relationship for so long because he wouldn't divorce his estranged wife. Another reason to resent Vatican II.
The thing that has been making me feel so uncomfortable the last few days is that the worry I used to carry around with me is back. My dearest friend and I have had a rocky relationship over the years, the worst of it when he got married without telling me. The similarity to the Boy/Chanel relationship was not lost on me. But the thing that I've always been worried about was that something would happen to him and I wouldn't know. But I've really tried not to think of that and just be content that our friendship is active and we are OK. Boy's car accident hit a bit too close to my heart. The worry is back.
grrr...
One thing that is missing in my life is a rain boot that fits and looks cute. My old rain boots are starting to leak and my work rain boots are too painful to wear longer than a couple blocks at a time. (The last time I wore them I thought, sure, I can walk 14 blocks to work... The blisters that formed after 8 blocks informed me otherwise.) It only becomes obvious of this lack of foot security on days like today. Or yesterday. Or one of those other days that had a lot of rain.
Today I actually felt more than lazy, if that's possible. Slothlike? Perhaps. I went to bed around midnight last night, but this morning didn't want to get out of bed. So I didn't until noon. I was actually shocked when I opened my eyes and saw the clock. But maybe my body just needed a longer rest. I decided to see if I could return some pants I got a few weeks ago (they're a touch too big), but couldn't find the size I need, so just gave up and bought a bunch of on-sale tights. I look forward to continuing to kick my co-worker's ass with my awesome legwear. (Apparently she used to have the most interesting legwear/footwear, but I've usurped her. If weird things start happening to me at work I'll know it's her getting revenge.) Two plaid pairs and two magenta pairs. I'm excited to wear them.
Tonight I went to Rachel & Nathan's for dinner and a hangout before Rachel and I took Augusten to the Thunderbirds/Golden Bears hockey game at UBC. I almost felt bad for UBC because the Golden Bears neatly clobbered them. It was 2-0 when we got there and was 8-1 by the time the game was over. I felt no fear cheering for the UofA because, really, UBC doesn't seem to get very excited about anything. I still feel more like a Golden Bear than a Thunderbird. Augie kept it together and stayed awake, despite us leading him astray and keeping him up two hours past bedtime, but it might have been the popcorn and cookies he kept shoving in his mouth to stave off boredom. He cheered on the T-Birds and I openly mocked him which probably wasn't a very nice thing to do to a 4 1/2-year old.
Last night I went to see Bishop Allen with my friend David at the Media Club. It was pretty good, but, even though it was an early show, I just couldn't stay awake. And people around us were annoying me for no real reason; just that they were. Some girl made some snotty comment about me standing in front of her and I just looked at her unimpressed and continued to stand in exactly the spot I was standing. Maybe I'm too old for rock shows, which is unfortunate since I have tickets to the Shout Out Out Out Out show next week and Hidden Cameras at the end of the month.
Today I actually felt more than lazy, if that's possible. Slothlike? Perhaps. I went to bed around midnight last night, but this morning didn't want to get out of bed. So I didn't until noon. I was actually shocked when I opened my eyes and saw the clock. But maybe my body just needed a longer rest. I decided to see if I could return some pants I got a few weeks ago (they're a touch too big), but couldn't find the size I need, so just gave up and bought a bunch of on-sale tights. I look forward to continuing to kick my co-worker's ass with my awesome legwear. (Apparently she used to have the most interesting legwear/footwear, but I've usurped her. If weird things start happening to me at work I'll know it's her getting revenge.) Two plaid pairs and two magenta pairs. I'm excited to wear them.
Tonight I went to Rachel & Nathan's for dinner and a hangout before Rachel and I took Augusten to the Thunderbirds/Golden Bears hockey game at UBC. I almost felt bad for UBC because the Golden Bears neatly clobbered them. It was 2-0 when we got there and was 8-1 by the time the game was over. I felt no fear cheering for the UofA because, really, UBC doesn't seem to get very excited about anything. I still feel more like a Golden Bear than a Thunderbird. Augie kept it together and stayed awake, despite us leading him astray and keeping him up two hours past bedtime, but it might have been the popcorn and cookies he kept shoving in his mouth to stave off boredom. He cheered on the T-Birds and I openly mocked him which probably wasn't a very nice thing to do to a 4 1/2-year old.
Last night I went to see Bishop Allen with my friend David at the Media Club. It was pretty good, but, even though it was an early show, I just couldn't stay awake. And people around us were annoying me for no real reason; just that they were. Some girl made some snotty comment about me standing in front of her and I just looked at her unimpressed and continued to stand in exactly the spot I was standing. Maybe I'm too old for rock shows, which is unfortunate since I have tickets to the Shout Out Out Out Out show next week and Hidden Cameras at the end of the month.
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