A big mistake. Very big, very undo-able. Now I know what went wrong this summer. Aw shucks, I knew all along, I was just hoping it wasn’t this. Being very 'no regrets' and all that. So do I regret it? I don’t know. Maybe. Is that bad, to know you made a mistake and not regret it? And I can’t even call it a mistake, cuz it’s not a mistake when it was calculated and premeditated, right? And the sin wasn’t even worth the penance. At least I won’t do it again. I rarely repeat my mistakes. Sigh. It didn’t seem bad at the time though. Wrong, but not bad you know. More of a spur of the moment, impulsive, wild sort of thing. But now I’m spending sleepless nights and having panic attacks. Oh yeah, and guilt trips. Big ones. Not cool at all. Ugh, it sucks having a conscience.
Ok, I just really needed to get that out. Now I’m gonna go help old ladies across the street till this cancels out...
Aug 31, 2007
Aug 23, 2007
So long summer
And so it ends. 3 ½ months of hard core drinking, partying, cupcaking, loving and leaving. Gone just like that. Fuck, it’s almost September. And god, the time I’ve had. I didn’t do half the things I planned on doing, but I did more than my share of things I never ever planned on doing. And I was reminded once again of why I love Colombo and why I love to leave Colombo.
I’m already packed. Why? Why am I packed on Thursday for a flight that leaves on Saturday? And I’m such a last minute packer too. Was chatting to Savi [of hot chocolate fame]about packing, of all things. She says it’s depressing; I find it exciting. There’s something very adventurous about packing. Not just the ‘how am I gonna fit everything in’ part, but also the idea behind it. The oooh I’m off feeling you get, the what nexts and the here I comes. I’ve been trying to simplify. Buy less clothes, have less stuff, since I plan on (fingers crossed) doing quite a bit of traveling in the next few years. I’m still young enough to entertain ideas of living out of a bag and backpacking across Europe and visiting exotic islands and whatnot. Well I can hope, cant I?!
So anyway the point of the post was to make a note at the end of a great summer, so I can look back when I’m re-buried in snow and remember. It’s a tad bit digressy, because my mind is a wandering as it tends to do sometimes.
We have a summer song. Doin’ time by Sublime. Its always good to have a song. I tend to have songs or albums that induce nostalgia. They bring back certain incidents and memories and people. Thanks to A for playing this song over and over again to the point of insanity. It will always remind me of drunken dancing in the White Horse parking lot, flaming sambucas and my 123 arrack shirt.
I went to Pillawoos *cue gasps* for the first time this summer. I’m anal about hygiene, what can I say. I’m not snobby about it, I mean, the malu rotti at the shady joint on Havelock road is my favorite, but Pillas, well, you just know its dirty as hell. So the first time we went there I was apprehensive. Had a few bites of the chicken kottu but went no further. Every weekend after that come 4 am, chicken and cheese kottu please! And I didn’t even get a stomach ache! Oh Pillawoos, how I misjudged you. I’ll be back.
One of the best bits of the holiday was reacquainting myself with people I had lost touch with, people I had never really made an effort to get to know and people I had just downright stopped speaking to. I met up with Savi after years, Pissu after even more years, and catching up is always fun, be it over a G&T or coffee. I met some new people I really liked, some new people I really disliked and some new people who downright amazed me. I was surprised to find myself doing shots with a shady character I haven’t said more than ten words to in the last four years, and even more surprised to find that said shady character took good care of me in my rather inebriated state. Wonders never cease.
I got to spend time with my Ach, watering the garden, oohing and aahing over her 23 varieties of shoe flowers, listening to her gripe about my piercings and generally not thinking about how long it will be since I next see her. Chilled with the doggies, so pretty they are. The only two dogs in the world I tolerate and, dare I say, love.
I'll miss cupcaking with U, AK and the duckling at Commons. We were in there so often the guy behind the counter would start laughing when he saw us. My phone is full of pics of the duckling and AK, which I will no doubt get around to deleting at some point, but not just yet. U doing his Joey impressions, the duckling and her promiscuity, me and my scandals, and AK with his cute self. How I will miss them.
No doubt I will remember more things about the holiday later. More things to blog about, more stuff to think about. Right now though, mosquitoes are biting me and I’m looking forward to not seeing another for a year at least. I’m slightly worried that along with the usual I wanna go, I wanna stay feeling, I’m feeling a tad uneasy about something which I can't quite put my finger on. A lack of closure, a sense of something not quite finished. And it’s worrying me.
I’m already packed. Why? Why am I packed on Thursday for a flight that leaves on Saturday? And I’m such a last minute packer too. Was chatting to Savi [of hot chocolate fame]about packing, of all things. She says it’s depressing; I find it exciting. There’s something very adventurous about packing. Not just the ‘how am I gonna fit everything in’ part, but also the idea behind it. The oooh I’m off feeling you get, the what nexts and the here I comes. I’ve been trying to simplify. Buy less clothes, have less stuff, since I plan on (fingers crossed) doing quite a bit of traveling in the next few years. I’m still young enough to entertain ideas of living out of a bag and backpacking across Europe and visiting exotic islands and whatnot. Well I can hope, cant I?!
So anyway the point of the post was to make a note at the end of a great summer, so I can look back when I’m re-buried in snow and remember. It’s a tad bit digressy, because my mind is a wandering as it tends to do sometimes.
We have a summer song. Doin’ time by Sublime. Its always good to have a song. I tend to have songs or albums that induce nostalgia. They bring back certain incidents and memories and people. Thanks to A for playing this song over and over again to the point of insanity. It will always remind me of drunken dancing in the White Horse parking lot, flaming sambucas and my 123 arrack shirt.
I went to Pillawoos *cue gasps* for the first time this summer. I’m anal about hygiene, what can I say. I’m not snobby about it, I mean, the malu rotti at the shady joint on Havelock road is my favorite, but Pillas, well, you just know its dirty as hell. So the first time we went there I was apprehensive. Had a few bites of the chicken kottu but went no further. Every weekend after that come 4 am, chicken and cheese kottu please! And I didn’t even get a stomach ache! Oh Pillawoos, how I misjudged you. I’ll be back.
One of the best bits of the holiday was reacquainting myself with people I had lost touch with, people I had never really made an effort to get to know and people I had just downright stopped speaking to. I met up with Savi after years, Pissu after even more years, and catching up is always fun, be it over a G&T or coffee. I met some new people I really liked, some new people I really disliked and some new people who downright amazed me. I was surprised to find myself doing shots with a shady character I haven’t said more than ten words to in the last four years, and even more surprised to find that said shady character took good care of me in my rather inebriated state. Wonders never cease.
I got to spend time with my Ach, watering the garden, oohing and aahing over her 23 varieties of shoe flowers, listening to her gripe about my piercings and generally not thinking about how long it will be since I next see her. Chilled with the doggies, so pretty they are. The only two dogs in the world I tolerate and, dare I say, love.
I'll miss cupcaking with U, AK and the duckling at Commons. We were in there so often the guy behind the counter would start laughing when he saw us. My phone is full of pics of the duckling and AK, which I will no doubt get around to deleting at some point, but not just yet. U doing his Joey impressions, the duckling and her promiscuity, me and my scandals, and AK with his cute self. How I will miss them.
No doubt I will remember more things about the holiday later. More things to blog about, more stuff to think about. Right now though, mosquitoes are biting me and I’m looking forward to not seeing another for a year at least. I’m slightly worried that along with the usual I wanna go, I wanna stay feeling, I’m feeling a tad uneasy about something which I can't quite put my finger on. A lack of closure, a sense of something not quite finished. And it’s worrying me.
Aug 16, 2007
Sunday Night at Barefoot
The last weekend has probably been one of the funnest of my vacation so far . So much fun in fact that it has raised me up out of my writer’s-block-type-phase and insisted that I blog about it. I think I’ll skip over the drunken revelry and hot butter cuttlefish induced throwing up, not to mention the scandalous suggestion of doing each other in the parking lot and laughable promises to never drink again and just stick to Sunday night at Barefoot.
I went to watch the Awakening or Arts that Matter or some show named either or both. The Duckling, unreliable as always, though she did have a good excuse this time I must admit, bailed on me, and so I thought fuck it, I’m just gonna go alone. This going alone business is an art that requires serious mastering. Some people never go out alone, it’s a sign of unpopularity I guess. Some people go alone and then invariably find someone they know to tag along with. I used to be in the middle; I’d never go out alone but if I had to I would immediately look for someone I knew. When I was in Florida my room mate introduced me to the concept of just going on your own and being on your own. Go for a movie, go for lunch, do some shopping. Me time and all that. So I did, and I found I enjoyed my company immensely. No pointless small talk to make, no need to feign interest in someone else’s babbling, no one disturbs you during the movie or orders something ridiculously overpriced and then makes you split the bill. But I digress greatly.
So alone did I go to Barefoot, having concocted great lies to the parents about how I would meet so-and-so there and they would drop me home. They are not aware of this going alone business, nor would they approve of it, Sri Lanka being what it is these days. Well, yes it was a tad dangerous, cabbing it home alone and all, but fuck it, Powercut Circus was playing and I wasn’t gonna miss seeing them live this time. So I went, met Electra at the entrance and said my hellos, then settled down at the back with a glass (well, styrofoam cup) of wine. 400 bucks?! Give me another boss!
I got in about 25 minutes late, and, amazingly, the show had already started. Marsh Dodanwala was in the middle of his act and he was pretty fuckin amazing. His voice can literally give you goosebumps. Doesn’t hurt that he’s pretty hot too. So I watched, but my mind wasn’t totally on it, since I was there for music. After a while I started looking around for people I know. The only thing better than people-watching is people-you-know-watching. Then you can put a name to the face and snicker the next time you see em. Saw a couple people I knew and nodded politely but that was as far as I was going to socialize that night. There was, however, a whole bunch of people I had never seen before. My mother thinks I’M a hippie; she should get a load of these folks! I saw at least 3 tie and dye shirts, then the more classy yet equally colorful Barefoot-esque sarongs and what not, dreads, afros, the works, all of whom were drunk, stoned or both. Good stuff. It was like being back in uni all over again. And I mean all that in a very good way.
And then Nadro came on. Wow. I would try to describe them but I am woefully uneducated on drums and such. I do know my basic bass from snare, cymbals from high hats, thammattama from geta bera etc but all these fills and grooves that RD talks about puts an eh? look on my face. So they probably filled and grooved away, all I know is there were three guys (maybe 4? I was waay in the back ok!) and they made great music. To put it simply, a class act.
I’m a bit fuzzy on the lineup. I think next was Brandon Ingram and his poetry. It was good stuff, but once again, I was there for the music. I gotta say though, that it takes some guts to get up in front of people and read poetry you’ve written. I think next was the art to music thing. Living art I think they called it. She painted to music, very nice.
And then… Powercut Circus!! I am such a fan. Ever since I heard Red Spit on the radio I’ve been hooked on these guys. I don’t know what it is about their music. I was trying to explain it to the duckling and I was like well it sounds kinds rockish, but not like metal rock, maybe alternative, but also has an electric sound and also a jazz vibe. And if any PC members are reading this and thinking wtf is she talking about, I do apologize. And then the singer’s voice is another thing entirely. So they played a couple songs I hadn’t heard before, and then red spit and fantastic plastic which are even more fabulous live. They had this one other song I didn’t catch the name of, but I think they said they hadn’t named it yet. That would explain it then. So a great performance by them. I was even introduced to the guitarist, who I thought was really nice. Now I’m just waiting for an album to drop.
After them came thriloka. Another fantastic performance. One of the biggest problems I have with local bands is that their lyrics are crap. I’m not too sure how it is in recent times but when I left two years back the only songs worth listening to were that of the Brass Monkey Band. Recently I heard some weird sinhala rap song, and I can’t even talk about it, it was that bad. And I’m such a hip hop fan. Though to be fair, nobody really listen to hip hop cuz of the lyrics. It’s all about the beat after all. However, my point is, if you can’t write lyrics that are worth listening to, stick to the music and the melody and do a good job of that. Which is what they did. (they being thriloka, and not that they can’t write lyrics, they just hadn’t so I wouldn’t know).
Anyway they had a brilliant drummer who gave us a little solo performance treat at the beginning (drummers ARE sexy RD, not physically maybe, but the playing itself I mean) and then the rest came on. I’m told their bassist played for 10 second rule at the onyx gig. He was very good also. And then there were [someone who was there, please insert instruments played here]. The long haired, tiny hand-held cymbals (omg my musical ignorance is so embarrassing!) holding guy really gave it the Sri Lankan vibe, and their music was brilliant. At this point some guy came and sat next to me and tried to chat me up. I include this irrelevant fact here just for its humor value. I’m such an unflirtable type of girl and guys try to chat me up so rarely that when they do, I find it hilarious. But it was also kind of annoying. I mean really, who wants to explain why I picked psychology as my major when all this great music is going on on stage?
After that Wildfire came on, and I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. People say they’re a great band, but I didn’t hear anything listenable from them. At the most they played mediocre covers of Latin songs. Unimpressive. But all in all, a very good night of alternative arts. Did I see somewhere that this is just part 1? If so I’m very sad that I’ll be missing part 2 onwards. Maybe one of you lovely folks can put some of it on youtube? That would be nice.
I went to watch the Awakening or Arts that Matter or some show named either or both. The Duckling, unreliable as always, though she did have a good excuse this time I must admit, bailed on me, and so I thought fuck it, I’m just gonna go alone. This going alone business is an art that requires serious mastering. Some people never go out alone, it’s a sign of unpopularity I guess. Some people go alone and then invariably find someone they know to tag along with. I used to be in the middle; I’d never go out alone but if I had to I would immediately look for someone I knew. When I was in Florida my room mate introduced me to the concept of just going on your own and being on your own. Go for a movie, go for lunch, do some shopping. Me time and all that. So I did, and I found I enjoyed my company immensely. No pointless small talk to make, no need to feign interest in someone else’s babbling, no one disturbs you during the movie or orders something ridiculously overpriced and then makes you split the bill. But I digress greatly.
So alone did I go to Barefoot, having concocted great lies to the parents about how I would meet so-and-so there and they would drop me home. They are not aware of this going alone business, nor would they approve of it, Sri Lanka being what it is these days. Well, yes it was a tad dangerous, cabbing it home alone and all, but fuck it, Powercut Circus was playing and I wasn’t gonna miss seeing them live this time. So I went, met Electra at the entrance and said my hellos, then settled down at the back with a glass (well, styrofoam cup) of wine. 400 bucks?! Give me another boss!
I got in about 25 minutes late, and, amazingly, the show had already started. Marsh Dodanwala was in the middle of his act and he was pretty fuckin amazing. His voice can literally give you goosebumps. Doesn’t hurt that he’s pretty hot too. So I watched, but my mind wasn’t totally on it, since I was there for music. After a while I started looking around for people I know. The only thing better than people-watching is people-you-know-watching. Then you can put a name to the face and snicker the next time you see em. Saw a couple people I knew and nodded politely but that was as far as I was going to socialize that night. There was, however, a whole bunch of people I had never seen before. My mother thinks I’M a hippie; she should get a load of these folks! I saw at least 3 tie and dye shirts, then the more classy yet equally colorful Barefoot-esque sarongs and what not, dreads, afros, the works, all of whom were drunk, stoned or both. Good stuff. It was like being back in uni all over again. And I mean all that in a very good way.
And then Nadro came on. Wow. I would try to describe them but I am woefully uneducated on drums and such. I do know my basic bass from snare, cymbals from high hats, thammattama from geta bera etc but all these fills and grooves that RD talks about puts an eh? look on my face. So they probably filled and grooved away, all I know is there were three guys (maybe 4? I was waay in the back ok!) and they made great music. To put it simply, a class act.
I’m a bit fuzzy on the lineup. I think next was Brandon Ingram and his poetry. It was good stuff, but once again, I was there for the music. I gotta say though, that it takes some guts to get up in front of people and read poetry you’ve written. I think next was the art to music thing. Living art I think they called it. She painted to music, very nice.
And then… Powercut Circus!! I am such a fan. Ever since I heard Red Spit on the radio I’ve been hooked on these guys. I don’t know what it is about their music. I was trying to explain it to the duckling and I was like well it sounds kinds rockish, but not like metal rock, maybe alternative, but also has an electric sound and also a jazz vibe. And if any PC members are reading this and thinking wtf is she talking about, I do apologize. And then the singer’s voice is another thing entirely. So they played a couple songs I hadn’t heard before, and then red spit and fantastic plastic which are even more fabulous live. They had this one other song I didn’t catch the name of, but I think they said they hadn’t named it yet. That would explain it then. So a great performance by them. I was even introduced to the guitarist, who I thought was really nice. Now I’m just waiting for an album to drop.
After them came thriloka. Another fantastic performance. One of the biggest problems I have with local bands is that their lyrics are crap. I’m not too sure how it is in recent times but when I left two years back the only songs worth listening to were that of the Brass Monkey Band. Recently I heard some weird sinhala rap song, and I can’t even talk about it, it was that bad. And I’m such a hip hop fan. Though to be fair, nobody really listen to hip hop cuz of the lyrics. It’s all about the beat after all. However, my point is, if you can’t write lyrics that are worth listening to, stick to the music and the melody and do a good job of that. Which is what they did. (they being thriloka, and not that they can’t write lyrics, they just hadn’t so I wouldn’t know).
Anyway they had a brilliant drummer who gave us a little solo performance treat at the beginning (drummers ARE sexy RD, not physically maybe, but the playing itself I mean) and then the rest came on. I’m told their bassist played for 10 second rule at the onyx gig. He was very good also. And then there were [someone who was there, please insert instruments played here]. The long haired, tiny hand-held cymbals (omg my musical ignorance is so embarrassing!) holding guy really gave it the Sri Lankan vibe, and their music was brilliant. At this point some guy came and sat next to me and tried to chat me up. I include this irrelevant fact here just for its humor value. I’m such an unflirtable type of girl and guys try to chat me up so rarely that when they do, I find it hilarious. But it was also kind of annoying. I mean really, who wants to explain why I picked psychology as my major when all this great music is going on on stage?
After that Wildfire came on, and I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. People say they’re a great band, but I didn’t hear anything listenable from them. At the most they played mediocre covers of Latin songs. Unimpressive. But all in all, a very good night of alternative arts. Did I see somewhere that this is just part 1? If so I’m very sad that I’ll be missing part 2 onwards. Maybe one of you lovely folks can put some of it on youtube? That would be nice.
Aug 14, 2007
The Seven
Tagged by Pissu, so... 7 random things. I won’t even pretend I don’t like writing about myself.
1. I’m a sucker for musicians. I have not a single musical bone in my body. I cannot sing, dance or play the tambourine. Therefore I have a ridiculous amount of respect and admiration for people who can, which is directly proportional to how well they do what they do. Yes monkey, I know you’re reading this and laughing and it does include you. Drummers are sexy but there's something to be said about a man on guitar.
2. I hate wrapping gifts, washing dishes and dirty feet. I love banana smoothies, roller coasters and African-American boys.
3. I am incredibly bad at small talk. I never know what to say or when to say it. I prefer to people watch.
4. Plane rides are most enjoyable alone. With my ipod. And a book. If you see me at the airport, please don't disturb. I won't know what to say in any case. Unless you're a good lookin boy, in which case, feel free to interrupt.
5. Everyday I find new proof that appearances can be deceiving.
6. I am deathly afraid of injections. I also have 5 piercings and a tattoo. How, I don’t know.
7. I am absolutely the best drunk ever. I need a maximum of two drinks to get buzzed and I never have a hangover. And, contrary to popular opinion that I am demanding and stubborn, I am actually amazingly social and friendly when drunk. I think.
this is kinda late, but, i tag iromi and the duckling
1. I’m a sucker for musicians. I have not a single musical bone in my body. I cannot sing, dance or play the tambourine. Therefore I have a ridiculous amount of respect and admiration for people who can, which is directly proportional to how well they do what they do. Yes monkey, I know you’re reading this and laughing and it does include you. Drummers are sexy but there's something to be said about a man on guitar.
2. I hate wrapping gifts, washing dishes and dirty feet. I love banana smoothies, roller coasters and African-American boys.
3. I am incredibly bad at small talk. I never know what to say or when to say it. I prefer to people watch.
4. Plane rides are most enjoyable alone. With my ipod. And a book. If you see me at the airport, please don't disturb. I won't know what to say in any case. Unless you're a good lookin boy, in which case, feel free to interrupt.
5. Everyday I find new proof that appearances can be deceiving.
6. I am deathly afraid of injections. I also have 5 piercings and a tattoo. How, I don’t know.
7. I am absolutely the best drunk ever. I need a maximum of two drinks to get buzzed and I never have a hangover. And, contrary to popular opinion that I am demanding and stubborn, I am actually amazingly social and friendly when drunk. I think.
this is kinda late, but, i tag iromi and the duckling
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