My life in two words

Music and food.

Despite being super sick, I made it out to the Commodore on Friday with Robyn and Shafin to see the fabulous and wonderful Childish Gambino aka Donald Glover. We were early enough to get excellent spots just a few people away from the stage! Although I got pretty dizzy at one point and wasn't quite sure if I'd survive, it was a great show. (Especially when he did the encore in just jeans and an unzipped hoodie.)


One of the few perks of living at home is getting homecooked food every night. On the rare opportunity that I get to cook for myself--like being too sick to go to the family Easter dinner--I usually stick to the one thing I can cook without a recipe: chicken and pasta. Chicken breast marinated in fresh squeezed lemon juice, spinach penne with a sort-of-not-really alfredo, and the only broccoli I'll ever eat. Simple, easy, delicious.

While I've been confined indoors with this awful cold I've also embraced my inner teenage girl and developed a slight Tumblr addiction. So like, follow me or whatever.

Let me see yr nailz

My attempt at a glitter gradient. OPI's Coney Island Cotton Candy (the most perfect nude shade ever) and Extra-va-vaganza. Really easy to do, though time consuming--this is technically 7 coats of polish! Worth it; I love the effect.

We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much.

"I like the feel of the burn of the audience's eyes on me when I'm whispering all my darkest secrets into the microphone."
I've had this new post up in a tab for the past few days in an attempt to see if I could adequately express my feelings towards seeing Bright Eyes on Friday, but I'm not sure if I'll ever get there. However, a certain someone who shall remain a name (Leslie Melvin) is impatient for a post so here goes.

I know, loving Bright Eyes is soooo 2003, but although I'm no longer an angsty 17 year old (I'm an angsty 23 year old...) I still can't stop listening. At this point my love is probably 90% nostalgia-based, but call the cops because IDGAF. My love for Conor Oberst will never die. I know a lot of people claim to have bands and artists that got them through tough times, but for me Bright Eyes was the opposite: They allowed me to wallow in self-pity and despair, and for that I am forever grateful.

To sum up this point of this post: The Bright Eyes show was probably the best musical experience of my life (No Doubt in 2009 is the second).

The show was at the Commodore. I love it. I wouldn't even mind seeing, say, Katy Perry (HATE HER WITH A FIERY PASSION) if she played at the Commodore. It's huge, it has multiple bars, there's ample seating with views of the stage, and hello--bouncy dancefloor. Hands down the best venue in Vancouver. The place was packed, which I should have expected as it was a sold-out show. I (vaguely) remember having a lot more room to dance when I saw Julian Casablancas there a couple years ago. Thankfully, no one was flailing/moshing/jostling about so although it was crowded it was still easy to stand in place and sway and enjoy the music. I even had a great view of Conor for the majority of the time, something that almost never happens due to my extreme lack of height.


Titus Andronicus opened, although I only caught the last few songs of their set. It's pretty rare that I've heard of the opening band and even rarer that I'm already a fan, so I was pleased.

But onto Bright Eyes. The set list was near perfect with plenty of songs from the new album interspersed with a lot of old favourites. Now, my idea of the ultimate Bright Eyes concert takes place pre-Digital Ash in a Digital Urn/I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning, but I've come to accept that that's just not going to happen. At least he (mostly? I can't remember) stayed away from Cassadaga. I mean, it's great that Conor's pretty much sober and all, but there's no denying his best work was during the years when he'd get so wasted at shows he'd have to cling to the mic stand for support. I don't usually read or agree with Pitchfork's reviews, but they were dead-on when they called The People's Key impersonal. I still think it's solid, but where's the neuroses? The wailing? The metaphors and references to scales and clocks?


Okay, I'm sidetracking. We took a nice, lengthy "trip down memory lane", as Conor put it. He even went way back to 1998 ("Padraic My Prince"). Going in, I was so sure I'd cry at some point, but (sadly, in my opinion) my cheeks remained dry. I did tear up once--for the entirety of "Take It Easy (Love Nothing)"--but he didn't sing any of the songs that really hit me hard in my hormonal teenage years. I assure you I would have been reduced to a quivering, sobbing wreck on the floor had I heard "Messenger Bird's Song" or "You Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will." or "A Perfect Sonnet" live.


One of the many highlights (who am I kidding every second was a highlight) was during the encore. "Lover I Don't Have To Love". I knew they'd play it, I knew they had to! Even if you're not a fan of the band, I feel like it was impossible to escape the mid-2000s without hearing that song...at least if you spent any amount of time on Myspace. I was only sad my sister wasn't there to scream the lyrics along with me like we used to do in the car. Love's an excuse to get hurt and to hurt. Do you like to hurt? I do, I do. Then hurt meeeeeeee. My one regret was not bringing my Flip cam to record the moment.


That's about all I have to say about the concert; or at least, all that can be said in a jumble of words. I'm so grateful I was able to be there, knowing that it was most likely his last tour as Bright Eyes. I'll leave you with this one moment that stuck with me: One or two songs into the set, Conor asked for the two lights shining on him to be turned off. It was just so Conor I nearly died.

I have a lot of really great concerts coming up (Childish Gambino/Donald Glover, Sleigh Bells, Neon Indian, Yelle) but, as excited as I am, I feel like none of them will live up to last Friday.

What's the best show you've ever been to?

The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

Ever have one of those days where it seems like the world is out to get you? Today was one of those days.

It started early. I was finishing up some work before getting ready for class, which included putting the final touches on a PowerPoint and handout that I was to use in my final presentation that afternoon. Run downstairs with my trusty USB stick, print the handout, everything is running smoothly and for once I'm actually ahead of schedule. Until, of course, 20 minutes later when I'm packing up everything I need for the day and realise I can't find my USB stick.

To understand the panic that pierced my heart at that moment, let me tell you what was on that stick:
- Everything.
Seriously. All the work I've done this semester as well as all the work I'm currently doing and need to hand in this week. I felt like Carrie Bradshaw when her beloved Powerbook died. Remember to always back up your work!

Of course, logic told me that it wasn't lost and it simply must be somewhere between the printer, the kitchen, the bathroom, and my room. Cut to 30 minutes and one torn apart room later, and I finally find it...in my pillowcase? I had no time to be confused by this as I immediately had to dash out the door to make it to the bus.

Finally, I'm on the bus. I'm flipping through my cue cards, going over what I'm going to say and how I'm going to say it. We're getting close to school so I go to put them away and that's when I manage to give myself two large, deep paper cuts right along the nail beds of my left middle and ring fingers. Blood. Everywhere.

Obviously, I survived and even managed to give a pretty good (I think--it's always hard to tell!) presentation on my girl Margaret Atwood. But oh man am I ever glad this semester is almost over!

Bare naked lady

My weekend, as usual these days, was homework-filled and dull.

UNTIL... I got a call from Sephora saying they'd gotten a shipment of Naked Pallettes in! On Sunday I gave myself a well-earned break and hustled down to Pacific Centre to pick it up. The girl who rang me up was shocked to hear I'd only spent a month on the waiting list; others have had to wait 3-5 months! I felt like I was going to get mugged by a horde of makeup-crazy girls on the way out.

I haven't had a chance to test it out yet, and knowing me I'll be way too lazy/exhausted to wear much makeup this week. I can tell you it looks pretty though! Ha.