#but my food and gas wont pay for its fucking self

[dromaeo-sauridae]

-

[themeed]

damn allowed myself to want things for a day and all i want is a van to live in, knowledge, freedom, weight loss, and a bass guitar.

im. happy with that i think. im proud of me, no jokes. im proud of being able to want things and care about them and vibrate towards them with longing. im... pleased with that. its fulfilling in a way Not Wanting For Anything isnt, because thats... kinda hollow. empty. in a vacant, lonely, yearning and grieving and SAD way. maybe because i Couldnt Want then. i Couldnt Desire or it would be used against me or taken away. that sucks. that sucked.

and now. im free to want again. and comparatively???? i think im very much never going to aim for buddhism or that weird Not Desiring Not Attached Nirvana mindset. like good for u but been there out of trauma and its not fun theres no reason to truly Live. u just float endlessly and experience and it aches so badly!!!! it hurts to want to want and not be able to. and i guess that is different from not wanting at all but... its not different enough for me to justify ever going back to that. or going forward to that. i just got this back and screw enlightenment if it means i have to give up on my passions i dont think life is worth living without it.

and anybody who looks down on that from a spiritual tower has yet to examine their own pride and how empty they feel without it.

anybody who looks down and smiles and wishes me luck on my journey? good for them. im glad theyre living their best life, on their journey as they see fit.

and i feel the need to protect myself because ive been hurt by the pride- the arrogance of others before. a lot of my hurts and traumas stem from my mother being too prideful to recognize that she can be wrong and someone under her power could be correct over her. and it was an uncomfortable truth. so she denied it was one at all and hurt me. i know the reason could be elaborated on. she didnt want to confront her own internal logic. or trauma. or even doublethink. that doesnt excuse her hurting a child for the sake of her sense of pride, of comfort, of self-worth. a child under her power, that she claimed to be parent of. teacher of.

not owing anyone anything is not the same as not hurting anyone. i havent reconciled that yet. oppressors should be held accountable for their mistakes, and give reparations if the harm is physical at LEAST. and i think that applies to politics, yes. privately though? if i beat up a nazi, i dont want to pay for his hospital bills. my personal philosophy struggles between equating people and ideas as a worth measurement, and realizing that that line of thinking is... similar to oppressors. but. its based on something people can change. the question is, do i think "if given the opportunity" is a good enough reason to stop and question a racist that runs their mouth? and do i think pre-emptive violence is okay? if say, a nazi walks into a bar and doesnt say anything but is wearing all the red flags and bells and whistles. i dont think that justifies a beatdown. being asked to leave, sure, but the beatdown doesnt start til the first remark flies.

once the intent is given OR the action is taken, the line is drawn. doesnt matter if they Havent Had The Chance. if theyre starting shit outside of debate spaces like that, and not, say, asking questions, theyre not looking for new perspectives, and it is NOT my job to educate people. its not my job to Show People The Light. a quick fucking google search could tell them why theyre wrong. if they havent put even the most basic energy into questioning their beliefs, thats on them.

it sounds like im trying to absolve myself of blame here. largely because. i think i should go out and help educate people because theyre inherently complacent if theyre, yknow, in a position of power. aka white folk and men and rich folk and cis folk and on and on and on. these people dont live my reality. they dont live the reality of a gay black man in the south, or a genderqueer lesbian in the west, or an indigenous woman whose nation is being targeted, or a muslim woman who cannot wear her headcoverings in the face of danger of death, or an asian immigrant who cant get a job because of COVD age discrimination resurging. we will never live each others realities, but we can become aware of them.

they wont come into awareness without someone asking or telling, and then doing something to change them.

we shouldnt need to go running to people in power for them to be aware of problems in the populace, govt is supposed to help and solve issues like this. like. actively. thats the whole point, make life better for the countrys citizens. and individuals in a position of social power...

are individuals who didnt take on a responsibility to protect and serve or otherwise care for the populace of a nation. i personally think they SHOULD care, but they are not obligated to. i cant make them care about others.

and honestly, on some of them, it would be a waste of time. there are people who want to change or question things and yknow what? they seek out answers. in people or places or online usually. stats and stories.

so like. i dont think someones Potential as a person matters when theres a throwdown about to happen. it really isnt my responsibility to save people from themselves or try to change their sides against their will. if they want to chat about it they can ask questions first.

not throw insults or punches or hatred.

what people have been taught is worth analyzing and trying to correct IN SOCIETY but i cant fix every broken white boy that comes to me. PSAs, fliers, outreach, online videos, debate spaces. those are things i already have access to and can be a part of if i really want to go around changing minds. or yknow. get involved in legislation and be myself around others to change their perceptions of whats socially acceptable or normal. maybe protest, maybe call congressfolk, etc.

but not every comment has to be analyzed or a learning opportunity. im allowed to shut it down, and people can respect that or stop talking to me. this isnt my parents house where i had to justify everything that i said or did when scrutinized, and doubly justify any criticism i had of mother, or any joke i frowned at instead of smiling.

these people dont have that power over me. they arent my mother. they arent my boss, and if they are i can fuck off and get a new job if necessary. they dont have financial control over my living space and food and schooling and physical control of where i can go and with who and for how long. I CONTROL THAT. I do.

Huh. maybe thats why i want a van so bad. i mean... when this lease ends if nobody is gonna end up living with me...

i could just... live in my car and shower at truck stops. get a storage unit for my stuff. save by driving jobs. like 40 to 60 a day. tear out my cars back, insulate it, and install my mattress pad there. water on the floor, cooler next to it, wooden cutting coard, knife, single camping plateware set, and another little shelf for spices. maybe a hot plate i can hook up to the car battery? get a long enough usb and it might be doable. i could go camping and open the trunk to just... vibe.

because yeah, honestly? i dont plan on having a solid apartment for a bit. like a long bit. and i still have like 70000 miles on my car before itll want to go. and by that point, even at like 100 miles a day, thats like 2 years, less if i go cross country in that vehicle. i could save up SO MUCH for a better vehicle, or like. college. live on campus, get some credit, continue working after i figure out want i want to do.

i think thats a solid plan, even if i dont get another apartment and put everything in storage. work as i need to instead of all the time for rent, really only paying for gas, car repairs, car ins, food, and phone data/hotspot internet... that would bring my monthly expenses down to like 500 a month max instead of like 1400. id only need to make some 1000 a month doing contract stuff to save for taxes and stuff. anything extra would be just that: extra for savings and things. holy shit.

depending on how this next month goes for my friends, holy s h i t.

i. i might do this. legitimately.

i. dont think i can yet. i need proof of address to get my license im pretty sure? but hey, thatll be my 21st this year, so. once i have that i wont need a new address for a While. i dont know if ill want one, really.

i could always just ask a friend or family member if i could use theirs for mail that cant go to a PO box.

anyway. yeah. wow.

[sin-scythes-and-assaults]

Family Sucks: The Rant (tm)

When I see posts and videos that are like ‘aw my mum/dad/carer are so cool I relate to them so much we’re best friends!!! !! !! ! ! !! !! !!!!’ I wanna just cry tbh because I know that I will never have anything like that??? I feel like I need to get the whole story out for whoever is reading this to understand so I guess ill start with my dad. My dad, for lack of a better term, is an arsehole. For all his claims that ‘you’re my child of course I love you!’, he really had a problem showing that. When I think of him, I don't think about the now-obvious attempts to win us over in some silent war between my mum and him - I think of how he’d ask me what I did at school (aged 6), and then completely ignore what I said, saying a quiet ‘uh huh, yeah, sounds great!’ as he sat on his phone in the car waiting for my older sister. I’d remember the disinterest he had towards us in terms of our hobbies and interests, and even discouraged me at times because the things I wanted to do ‘weren’t suitable for a girl’ (it was fishing. I wanted to learn how to fucking fish like both of my brothers, and he said no because I was a girl. I had to teach myself and save up for months to buy my own rod, bearing in mind I was about 8-10yo at the time). I’d remember the screaming matches at 3 in the morning with my mother, who I didn't realise was actually standing up for herself for once. My mum, when I was younger, wasn't much different. However, she had a reason, and I excuse her for it. She used to work full time as a nurse, with very limited pay, and had to look after my three siblings and I, not to mention provide for a father who did next to nothing about the house, but contributed greatly to the bills. She was tired - and I don't mean ‘yawn ooh I'm a little bit sleepy’. I mean. Tired. She tried not to fall asleep during mealtimes, knowing that in a few hours she’d have to go on another 11 hour shift. She’d take sleep where she could, but it wasn't enough because she had to look after four of us and a father who was barely there. We were a poor family, mainly because my dad refused to help with anything other than the mortgage and the electricity and gas bills. He didn't pay for food for a family of 6 every week, my mum did, and she barely made enough money as it was. Also, I don't know why, but I have always thought that, to some extent, these severe money problems were my fault. Don't ask why, I just thought they were. She tried to connect with all of us while she could, but I think that because I was the youngest, I was the last priority. I felt excluded from the whole family, being constantly picked on by my older brothers and my sister, too. My self worth also went down when I made friends with a certain girl in my year at school. She abused me. She hit me, slapped me across the face, bit me and dug her nails into my skin until I bled. This happened regularly. I still have a scar on my hand when she decided to make me play a ‘cute game’ where one person was basically to hurt themselves until the other person completed a task. (I wont go into details about this game bc its fucking horrible) She didn't even properly tell me what was happening, only to ‘trust her’, and I ended up getting hurt for it. She humiliated me in front of someone I had a crush on for almost a year multiple times, called me fat (which prompted me to have a very bad diet consisting of only one small meal a day and nothing else, thinking it would make me attractive), worthless, and blackmailed me into staying in contact with her, even until about 4 or 5am most nights. This took a toll on my mental health, and I started to self harm. Life sucked, I finally confronted her about it with my best friend, and she fucked off, claiming she was the victim. I managed to stop self harming. Things got better. But!!  !!! !!!! ! A few years later I fell out with my Best friend over something (I cant even remember what??? I'm p sure it was my fault though and I still feel fucking terrible) and we didn't talk to each other again (I recently got in contact with her though and she’s still as amazing as ever. I missed her so much) Fast forward to the second half of 2014, where my parents arguing had come to a head (bearing in mind, the reason for said fighting was kept from me until only a few months ago) and my dad had permanently moved out. They got a divorce and now live miles away from each other. My dad, being the glorious fuckwit he is, decided to give us a total of 3 months to sell our house, find a new one to buy that was more affordable and could house 5 people (which was simply impossible) and move in. This is because he decided to stop paying the mortgage , and we had three ‘paid’ months left until it essentially got repo’d, unless we find this magical fantasy house he left us to find. As you can imagine, it didn't go well. We did manage to sell our house, but we had to lower the price drastically so the snotty family that bought it would actually consider it (they were arseholes too). So we had limited money from the sale of our house to buy the one we had picked out, which was now too expensive for us. We didn't get the rest of the money in time. We ended up homeless for a year, but fortunately, my gran had a big house. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough room for us all, even if we shared. My eldest brother, Dominic, was essentially ‘booted out��� to go live with his girlfriend and her family because he was ‘expected to’. We hardly see him now. (I miss him) I had to share a room with multiple family members, so I had no privacy at all. The only time I was alone was when I was in the shower. Meanwhile, my gran was picking apart my school life, my hobbies and my interests, saying that what I wanted out of my future wasn't worthwhile. I had to deal with this for a year. A year. I relapsed into self harm, almost went through with killing myself on multiple occasions, and thought about genuinely just up and running just so I could leave all the shit behind. We found a house. It was a shithole and the seller was wanting way more than it was worth -It was all we could afford. We bought it. We had to spend thousands damp proofing the whole house because the guy lied and said he had done it. We had to spend thousands on new windows because they had severe problems and were letting in currents of water when it rained. There was rot beneath the floor and in the attic so we had to spend hundreds to get it redone. We became very very poor again. I could hear my mum crying herself to sleep at night again. If we had been any more in debt we would have had to sell this house just months after getting it. My room is so small I cant lie out on my floor without my feet hitting a wall, the walls are so thin that I can hear my sister breathing as she sleeps in the room across the hall. I began to collect plants. They depended on me, they needed me, and that's the kind of responsibility that I needed - something wanted me. I had something to look forward to at the end of the day. I had mini hydrangeas, a trellis with honeysuckle and jasmine by my window, lavender, lemonbalm, everything. I knew what their individual needs and wants were and in turn they helped me sleep at night. They started to die. My mum had decided to spray them with a pesticide that was too ‘strong’ for them, and in the wrong places. Their leaves started to rot and they all. Died. I still act to this day that it wasn't a big deal, that it was just a silly mistake, but I know that I wont ever find that same happiness again????? I think about those plants sometimes and somehow I always bring the blame around to me and I don't understand why I do that with everything?? Regardless, I was fucking sad and my mum started to bitch about it. Then, I find out a few months ago that the reason that my mum and dad got a divorce was because my dad had been cheating since at least the mid 90′s. since a few years before I was born. For 18 fucking years he had been cheating, all with different women apparently, and I had been fucking clueless. Again, because I'm a self-depreciating piece of shit, I brought the blame back to me and tell myself ‘if you noticed sooner you could've said to ma and she wouldn't have had to go through that shit’ but the thing is, I know I wouldn't have realised because I didn't know any different??? And when I tried to talk to my ma about it one thing she said was that ‘there were faults on both sides’ and now that's got me thinking ‘what if she cheated too?’ If it turns out she has, I seriously don't know what I'm going to do??? because shes made it out all these years that they've been divorced that my dad is the ‘bad guy’ and I don't know what I'm going to do if I find out the woman I've been heralding as ‘strong and brave’ for standing up to that kind of behaviour from my dad did the same thing And it scares me so much Who knows I might add to this later through an edit but now im in a rlly sad place n I wanna stop

[selfpityandporn]

Rant- Okay, #1, fuck you. You started a fight and now like everything you’ve been a cunt about is fucking coming back and pissing me off. But lets just keep to I dunno, this week.

I literally had to fight both of you, "adults" just to take OUR cat to the vet, cause your fucking cheap and in goddamn denial, thats right GODDAMN, I can say that, because fuck you I can. I don't care if it uses gods name in vain, since when did you give a shit about god any way, considering the absolute shit storm you've given me for the last 4 years about going to church you didn't know anything about.

I fight just to get this cat to vet, long story short she's deathly sick. And I'm not complaining about taking care of her, I'm happy too, I will wipe her ass everyday long as she gets to be here, cause I love her and she's family. But the fact that I literally have to fight you just to get her fucking .70 food is GODDAMN ridiculous, god forbid her flea or ear mite medicine to keep her from scratching the blood out of herself. But I'm dollering you to death, and I'm a selfish peice of shit, excuse the fucking shit outta me.

Also, thanks for literally not helping me with her at FUCKING ALL. Like I said, I'm just happy she's alive, but honestly you wanna talk about how much you love her, and care about her, but you wont help me get the right food, and can't even take care of her. Our kitty was so sick she couldn't even move, so she had to be carried. I didn't want to take her to my room, because theres fucking shit and insulation everywhere from our shower breaking and dad still not cleaning up or fixing it, and I can't clean it up without getting bitched out. But god forbid we put her in your room, really? It's clean, your rooms not as hot, and you have a place to put her, but your terrified she's gonna pee or something, really? Your lucky she's fucking alive, I got pissed on taking her to the vet. Why, BECAUSE SHES SICK AND CANT HELP IT. I didn't get mad, I cleaned it up LIKE A FUCKING ADULT. You won't help me carry her when I'm trying to get her food, you don't want her in the living room. I could go on and on, you get the idea, I'm happy my cats alive, but fuck you for not helping me help her. SHE NEEDS US, your dropping the goddamn ball.

Lets get to today, the snapper of this, cause honestly this HAS SO MUCH SHIT, from you calling me a whore, accusing me of shit, not teaching me how to drive, cussing me out, not coming to my school stuff, thats might be a fucking tenth of all the shit that has been frustrating me. BECAUSE YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE AN ADULT, AND A PARENT, YOUR SUPPOSED TO HELP ME BUT INSTEAD YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD STUCK UP YOUR ASS.

We had our little family trip today, it was going so well. Till we were almost home, everyones in the car. Like usual you and dad are smoking like fucking trains and I can't fucking breathe, god forbid I roll down my window to satisfy MY HUMAN FUCKING NEED FOR OXYGEN. That wasn't the biggest issue, no the biggest issue is when you decided to fun your fucking mouth cussing me. Make such a huge fucking deal out of literally nothing. And when I say big deal, I mean on and on and on for 30 goddamn minutes. And any time it got quiet, YOU KEPT FUCKING YAPPING. I literally put my ear buds in, and ignored you. I didn't keep arguing, till you were LITERALLY SCREAMING SO LOUD I COULD HEAR YOU OVER MY ROARING TRAP MUSIC. Then I retaliate, you tell me to just shut the fuck up, the conversations over. FUCK YOU, I STOPPED TALKING 30 GODDAMN MINUTES AGO, YOUR THE DUMB FUCK THAT KEEPS GODDAMN TALKING.

And then, you pissed me off. Lets jump to last week. I got my first credit card, why? Because my laptop broke, I needed another for my online classes, we as a family were too broke to buy it. I understand that, I took it into my own hands. Then, you tried to start a fight, cause I didn't wanna go an extra 200+ into debt getting my little brother, WHO IS LITERALLY 8 a fucking laptop. You started a fight, because I refused to buy and 8 year old, a laptop, on my credit. Which oh by the way I know you would have never payed me back for, because your you and I've learned this lesson literally a dozen times, but your my mom so I keep letting you borrow my christmas money (I might get like, $60 each year, which is all I get from my family members, she "borrows" Then, will get her taxes, blow them and not pay me back, and guilt trip me about literally buying me stuff for my birthday at tax time, anyways) You tried to start a fight over that, then literally tried to put words in my mouth, saying I said I'd get him one. No, I didn't. I said I wish I could, I want him to learn how to type, but my line of credit is only $500, my laptop it's self was $250, the rest I was trying to save for emergencies, cause I knew we were fucking broke.

Now, I'm not on a rabbit trail, this ties in I promise. The day I got my laptop, we had went in Walmart to look, you said you were gonna get a handful of groceries while I looked, alright. I didn't get a laptop there, we go to leave. You ask me to pay for the groceries. I told you I didn't want to on credit, but how much is it? "Oh only like $20, I only got a few." Checked out, it was like $40. I got it anyways, and just asked that when you had the money, (She's literally getting a 1000+ check for her 401k in like, a week) if you could give me some for the upcoming comic con. (Comic con is a big deal for me, I cosplay, I go with my best friend and her family, I literally look forward to it all year. Most of the time I go, I'm usually broke, except for the last few cause I had a job until about a month before all this, whole other rant, anyways) So I was like cool, it sucks I'm another 40$ in the hole, but she knows how much con means to me, she'll give me it back. Then, I get my laptop. Back to the 8yr old brother thing, he literally has broken like 5+ tablets, my tv, and 3 phones alright. He gets mad, will throw them, scream curse words at them. It's ridiculous, literally didn't want to throw away $200+ I DIDNT HAVE on a brat who was gonna destroy it, along with my parents not knowing how to use it, neither does he so they expect me to fix LITERALLY everything, which is so annoying, cause then, he breaks it, its somehow on me. Anyways.

I was nice enough to lay away the laptop for you, another $30 I didn't have, but it got you off my fucking back. You also said you'd give me that back for con. I just wanna put in here, that when I got my job and actually had hours, I took my family out to dinner every paycheck, bought them stuff. Genuinely tried to not be selfish, Literally I think the only big thing I bought myself was my cosplay that I had wanted for like, years. But then my hours got cut, I was working literally 5 hours a week. I might have made $30-$40 for the majority of my employment, an with that I iterally saved up to take my friend out for her birthday and buy myself bedsheets, and still tried to take us out to eat, cause we got to do it as a family. But during this she was literally acting like, I had to pay for anything and everything. I needed to go to town for school, "You got gas money?" I asked for a few dollers so I could eat at work/before works, "Can't you buy it yourself?" Like, I would have HAPPILY if I had it, but I didn't, and your literally my mom, can you not drive me to school? Help me buy lunch, like WTfff?

And, today. Oh today, after you cussed and cussed and fucking cussed, I put my earbuds in and leave it alone, I DIDN"T SAY ANYTHING BACK, even though I know your still talking trash. I pause my musics just so I can hear you.

"Just wait till the next time you need something from me! Just fucking wait, and you can forget about your goddamn comic con money, go get a fucking job!."....................................................

I'm sorry, excuse me? Did I just fucking hear that correctly? See, I'm not a bad person, I don't believe so. But I fucking mentally snapped. I literally spent hours the other week helping her find another job, putting in her application. I can't get a job, because in the past fucking year and half she hasn't taken, and no exageration, more than 20 minutes to try to teach me how to drive, and not not only are you refusing to give me to the money you deadass owe me. But I. I need to get. A . God. Damn. Job.???????

At first, I handled it like a child, a child who loves their mother. "I don't care, I'll have fun without a fucking dime to my name." Then, my ass adulted, silently, excuse me. Excuse me, I don't think I heard that correctly, you not only are tryna sit there and cuss me, TELL ME TO GET A JOB, and, oh and, try to refuse the money you took from me?

I really, ya know, I really don't think thats gonna work. Cause see here, asshat, I have all your credit card info, all your social shit cause you don't know how to do a fucking job application, and, oh and, a cold GODDAMN shoulder. So heres how this is gonna work darlin, the day of con will come, and you will either give me my money (I didn't even ask for the full $70 btw, I said maybe like $40.) But you will either now give me all $70, or I will slip your card from your wallet, while your in your smokin drunken stooper, and frankly, cruelly, hold it fucking hostage till you #1Give me my fucking money, and #2 Fucking apologize, and admit you tried to do me so goddamn shitty. And if I don't think that apology is good enough, I'll take my money on my own and you will have disappointed me. I gave so many chances for redemption, and I still am.

But honestly this is prolly my fucking snapping point cause you have insulted me and frustrated me enough. I am 18, I am trying to adult, with no help from you, if anything more fight. Between finishing my senior year by my fucking self, to the stupid job shit, to omg, all the college shit she was supposed to help me with that I had to do on my own, to our poor cat which I'm trying to nurse off the fucking death bed single handedly, to literally not being able to get a job because of you, to you now more than likely ruining my credit, cussing me out, and just being an absolute pain in my goddamn ass along with every fucking thing else I am having to do on my own.

So, excuse me, fuck you. Get the fuck out of my way. You will NOT stand between me and the things I have earned and strive to get. In fact, no one will. You wanna be fucking petty, and fucking rude? Don't get made at me for winning a game you goddamn started :) K, thanks.

[certifiablyplatinum]

“‘Call the police’, cause I been arrested for an improper display of rockin’!” LCD Soundsystem at the Masonic Temple, Detroit

So, when I got notified of the “early bird sale” for this show waaaay back when in June,, I whipped out my plastic as I am wont to do without thinking…. of course I did. Because… James Murphy, and one of my favorite bands of all time. I consider LCD Soundsystem my Depeche Mode 2.0, and for anyone who knows me that’s all the summation that needs.

Well, because when you get old, time moves in a different way (as in, faster), summer basically didn’t happen, and before I knew it, it was time to hit the road to Detroit. I was beyond stoked, and played my favorite classics all morning as I finished up some work…. North American Scum, Losing My Edge (probably my favorite lyrics of any song,* and even more pointed AND poignant as an aging creative in my industry. Like, I GET that song:  “But I was THERE!”

Anyway- Russ (so game! So indulgent of my schedule dictations and crazy plans!) and I made our escape in the Escape and off we went. We checked into an Air B & B 3 hours later that seemed KIND of sketchy but was “actually really, really nice.”*  We poured some warm vodka into a solo cup I had brought along in my bag just in case (it pays to be prepared, and I can be weird about other peoples’ dishes) and about an hour later, after playing tunes and sitting on the bed looking at each other, we summoned an Uber and went to the Whitney, a gorgeous 1800′s mansion converted into a restaurant, dessert parlor, gardens, etc.  When Russ saw the white tablecloths he looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Holy shit” and promptly covered his “God Save the Queen” sex pistols shirt with a classy flannel. We agonized in stage whispers how to plan, mesh and merge our overeating vs. cocktailing- (Russ said somewhat accusingly: “THE LAST TIME YOU HAD A FULL FISH DINNER COMPLETE WITH SIDES AND BREAD YOU WENT HOME AND SLEPT”) along with figuring our budget for this meal, which there was none. So, I ordered a crab cake (playing it off with a coquettish “Oh, I don’t have much of an appetite!” to the waiter), and kept asking for more bread.  

Yes, I’m cutting to the chase, but I like to add a little background flavor to my “reviews” (which are turning into stories.) Anyway, we ate our way to a pleasant satisfaction, NOT stuffage (key to a good evening.) We left the Whitney and popped into another Uber and got dropped off in front of the imposing, castle-like Masonic Temple theatre (the largest in the world.)  It was about 7:30, and the line already snaked around the building. As we exited our Uber, we were met by my fellow LCD fan and Columbus-ite, Kerrie, and her BFF Dani, who had also road-tripped up. We gathered together and moved simultaneously in a clump until we reached the front doors and presented our tickets.

Inside was already a bit of pandemonium. The auditorium was the size of the indoor LC, (oops, Express Live) with the ornate-ness of the Ohio Theatre, with arches leading through to aisleways into the venue and beverage/snack counters like the Schott or any basketball arena.. Kerrie and Dani had balcony seats so up they went, and Russ and I made our way to the floor. (Earlier Russ had asked, “Is there an opener?” I had said, “I bet there will just be a DJ” and bingo.) Thudding bass beats blasted into the auditorium, and I rocked out with my Rum and Diet once we found a seat. Get this.  Our seats were on the aisle, second row from the floor.  (The whole show was GA, and I couldn’t believe what a great spot we got.) It was like being on the floor, but– I could see better because we were elevated a bit OVER the floor, and I could sit if I damn well chose to do so.

The DJ spun, the floor in front of us filled, and before I knew it the place was maxium capacity, with people even spilling into the aisles.  A wisp of smoke, a darkened stage, and the screams began… as the opening notes of the first track off their new album, “Oh Baby” filtered into our eardrums.  The build of swirling, tinkling keys sounded like a fairy tale, or Tinkerbell, or making one feel they  should be standing in a darkened field with stars swirling dizzingly around them in sparkling rotation.

I was agog at taking in the sight of James Murphy (and all his gear!), my shaggy-haired hero. Who IS this odd genius, cool yet mad, hipster yet pushing 50, dapper yet rough, a singer/songwriter/drummer/pianist/programmer/DJ/mixmaster? Such a hodgepodge of talent, so much so that I can’t pin him down with a word. He almost seemed as if he was the maestro of an orchestra, or big-band leader at a supper club, in his white shirt and black jacket (and  black jeans). For the entire show, he was the beacon  on the stage that everyone revolved around.  Even when laying down the most danceable beats, he stood  tall and composed, a beam of light shining upon him.

After the magical vibe of “Oh Baby” faded away, the band launched into a rapid-fire, doubletime, raw take on “Daft Punk is Playing at My House”, causing a frenzy of moshing and screaming. The stage turned red under the lights, fists were pumped, and a cowbell made a bold and badass appearance:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLWUIy0dvTk&feature=youtu.be

“Call the Police”, with its deep bass riff toward the end (ba bum bum bum da da ad DA da, repeat) slayed the crowd;  like “Daft Punk…”, the tempo was amped considerably. In fact, most songs were played with a driving, energetic urgency, almost as if the band couldn’t keep up with themselves. Everything was spot-on… clear vocals, an assured presence, drummers that bounced up and down as they slammed the sticks– James hit every high note with thoughtful preparation… (’we don’t waste time with…love”). He commands this song with Bono-like intensity. (I think he sounds like Bono on a lot of the new album, if you must know).

Get Innocuous, You Wanted a Hit,  ferocious and fun, blasted out next.  And then, I made a critical error. Fateful, dare I say.  Like Icarus soaring cockily to the sun, because I have done this hundreds of times before with no negative consequence… I left to “bring back drinks.”  

I headed up the packed aisle and walked down the marble steps to the basement- the quickest and closest bar. I pulled my sweaty 20 from my bosom and got a bottle of water, a Pabst (lol) for Russ, and a rum and diet. After waiting 10 minutes, I gathered my sundries and climbed back upstairs, finding my entry way to “aisle 3.”  And I was met by a wall of bodies. No, more like..a CONE of bodies, packing every square, breathable atom of space and air from the top of the entryway down to the floor. My 5′2 self, carrying three beverages, pushed boldly on, and then confusedly, and then feebly.  The oxygen was sucked from my lungs, I was being eaten alive by warm, sweaty, douchebag bodies as they sucked me in the Upside Down like Barb.  My cracking, forlorn, yet agitated voice called “RUSS..” (dear God, why. The auditorium was powering out decibels with the same power of the sun.)  It was so dark, so loud, so packed, I didn’t even know where I was heading.  To top it all off, in the cruelest sense of irony, during my time of woe the band was blissfully singing their gentlest, saddest song, “Someone Great.” As I pushed and sloshed through the Upside Down of bodies, my wrists wet from rum, a ragged sob burst forth from my throat.  I sensed I was getting close to the floor… and then I was being grabbed and clawed, some colossal dickhead grabbing the neck of my shirt to keep me from getting through, grabbing my drink and spilling it, and then his friends laughing – I felt I was in a fucking funhouse hall of horrifying mirrors. Like, if it was a movie, I would have seen their faces in slow mo moving toward me with deep, slowed-down, “HA, HA, HA’s.”  Somehow, I found myself on the floor, which meant I had bypassed my second row seat. As the haunting lyrics, “when someone  great is gone… when someone great is gone…” were being sung, in a weird way I trying to listen to it  I was pissed I was missing it, while the rest of me was painfully aware I had no idea how to find Russ. Would Russ be singing those lines about me when I never returned?  I wondered forlornly. A girl yelled - “YOU’RE ON THE FLOOR” and I stared at her blankly and yelled back, “I’M ON THE FLOOR?”  All my instincts could do was send me away from the floor. Like a penguin on their programmed quest for winter food, I marched back toward the packed aisle. My foot felt a step up- I had made the front row.  My eyes scanned the seats, and finally I saw Russ standing. I shoved my way into any available hole that a human body made as it stood next to another human body it was not connected to, and I slithered my way to my (unbelievably) still-empty seat.  I collapsed, tossed Russ his pabst, and wiped an exhausted, emotional , drunken tear from my cheek, barely able to blurt: “I WAS ASSAULTED AND THE AISLE WAS PACKED.”  I then slammed the remaining droplets  at the bottom of my spilled drink.

SO, YEAH!  ‘Someone Grea’t was… great. (It really was. I was hyperaware of it as I was going through my trauma.) Once settled, though, I shook it off, and danced with vigor at Yr City’s a Sucker and Tonite, Tonite (which sounds like a Daft Punk song. Ironic? Discuss.).

“We’re going to the bathroom, then we’re coming back,” James informed the crowd, so we settled down a bit because I had a feeling that Dance Yrself Clean may be one of the encores… I was not disappointed!  It put a worthwhile capper on the whole evening. “Ahhh ahhhhhh, ahhh ahhh….” rang out the harmonies, with the chirpy RD2-D2 synth sounds peppering underneath, and then, the big, bold, reverb-y breakdown…. ahhhh! Washed clean. Danced clean.

Here I am, sweaty with the abovementioned cleanse.  I look like I’ve been through the “wringer”, so to speak. Hot mess!:

(as my POS phone had died, I was begging Russ to document the evening in a photographic sense.) Anyway, we weren’t quite sure what to do because we were both feeling pretty rough and tired at this point… so we wandered toward the casino.  Once we got there, we sat down at a metal table in a glorified food court, looked at each other and said, “what the hell are we doing here?”  I really just wanted a huge bottle of water, and maybe a sub. Like- Justin and Karly, if you are reading this, I really just wanted that pizza place/bar we stumbled into on the way back from the U2 show in Cleveland. Quiet, dark,dumpy, whatever. SOOOO, we ubered back to the air b & b (in Lafayette Park- which I am reading was a hotbed for Mies Van Der Rohe’s’ residential buildings, and I wonder if the apartment building we stayed in was one of them?)

I had a half a bottle of water waiting for me from earlier, which I chugged; I ripped out my contacts, changed into my slug clothes, and hopped in bed. I wondered aloud if I would be able to sleep– many times after a concert I am too jacked up, especially when rum & diet is involved. Like a magical elf, Russ rolls toward me, producing a Klonopin he takes for his own sleep issues.  I cracked the hell up.  Russ then literally proffered it on his finger and put it in my mouth, saying in a creepy voice, “Take it, kid… just let it dissolve and see the rainbow.”  Holllllllyyyy  shite.

So- I love this band, they are a sinuous, living, silvery, fluid octopus of harmony and rhythm, soft and loud, thundering and syncopated and layers of weirdness and stops and starts.  As I read weeks ago– the only band who could produce a 9-minute pop song and leave you wanting more.  WHO are they? WHAT do they create?  Just like me getting trapped in a throng of screaming, pulsating bodies, there are some things we may never understand.