Michael and I are here at his parents' house because we have tickets to see Bright Eyes tomorrow night at The National in Richmond.
Augh, guys. I know I've seen C six trillion times and so it's not even ~him (that part might actually be pretty awk in light of what happened), but DAT MUSIC. Michael and I were srs bsnsly rocking out to old school stuff in the car on the way up here and man, I don't even give a fuck if it's "lame" to love Bright Eyes. That is some stupid, nonsensical bullshit. There is no other artist whose music resonates with me on so many different levels. IT IS JUST SO GOOD and the new album is a fucking masterpiece and alkjaldkfjalkdfj RAH RAH RAH RAH
The point is, this is my favorite band and I've only seen them once, and it was in 2005. I am so stoked for this show. I could pee. Um, give me a moment.
Okay, I'm over it.
In other news, money is still tight but it'll be okay. I'm trying to find a car but it's not really panning out as quickly as I'd hoped. Auditions for the new show are on Tuesday. Things are still sort of weird (ie a big fucking mess) in lots of different areas but I am distracting myself with Zingled and doodling adorable bull-horned aliens all over everything. (I've actually been busting out the anatomy books to practice figure drawing. HARDCORE.)
I wish Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex was as good as its theme song promises.