Crazy Virgo

Dear Coldplay

I miss you.  I know we had a small falling out because I thought you were being pretentious by charging fans $70 to see your shows, but now I miss you so bad,I would pay that $70 to see you, so I want you back. I realize it may be too little too late, but it's a chance I'm willing to take. You see, a week ago I was in the Apple store checking out the new iPod nanos and the video for "Fix You" was a selection to test out the new video screen. As soon as I put on the headphones, memories flooded my ears, and the good times we had didn't seem so far away. All that beautiful guitar and anthemic rock and saccharine-coated lyrics took me back to when we were good friends and I was singing at the top of my lungs while driving in my car. Now that those days are gone, I miss them. I really do. Swear. So we had a moderate disagreement over X&Y and the legitimacy of you as the greatest band ever, so what. Now I think, well, you're almost there. If you came out with a new CD, you'd definitely have a greater chance of a major takeover of the UK music scene. You keep teasing me with hints of a comeback - Chris Martin vocals on Jay-Z and Kanye West albums. Why don't you just make one yourself? That's what you were made to do. Play brooding, heart-wrenching, lyrically shallow music for 30-somethings. So, do it! Give me another Yellow, another Clocks. Something we can all bob our heads in unison and add to our mix cds.  What I'm trying to say, Coldplay, is that I'm sorry I tried to be better than you. I'm not. I'm right there with you, crying, searching, whining and agonizing over every note of a song. Let's get back together. I'm really doing a lot for this relationship. Do you realize that in publicaly professing my love for you how scorned I will be? You're not the indie Britpop band you once were. You're played in grocery stores and on airplanes. You're the soundtrack for suburbia. But, nevertheless, I love you. And, I promise this time I'll be on your side, as your #1 fan (in the secrecy  of my car).

Best,

CrazyVirgo

I'm a snob.

Hello. My name is CrazyVirgo and I'm a snob. Hi CrazyVirgo. Seriously folks, the past several days Gentleman Lover has been away meeting Jimmy Kimmel and Sarah Silverman and doing other very important things for his job, meanwhile I've been left alone with my thoughts. That can be dangerous. After a conversation with someone at a concert about how I was a music snob, I started thinking about all the other things I was a snob about.

1. Fashion snob - I will most certainly look down at you if you pull an outfit directly off a mannequin at Nordstroms and wear it. In fact, I have a name for that: Nordbot. I will also snob you out if you shop at the GAP. I too shop there every great once in a while, but I hide it, inconspicuously under a sweater or with a vintage scarf. If you don't do this, I will think you have no fashion sense whatsoever. Also, if you wear a blue shirt and khaki or black pants, I will probably public stare you down with a look of disgust, or at least whisper behind your back.

2. Food snob - I won't eat at AppleChiliFriday's or BucadeOliveFactory or anything in between. If you ever see me in a McDonald's drive thru it's because I'm too hungover to know the difference, lost, or in a place where no other food is available and I'm ready to eat my fingernails for protein. I always comment on people's lack of knowledge when it comes to ahi tuna, kobe beef, and Chilean sea bass. I will roll my eyes and uninvite you to dinner if you even tell me that you don't like sushi because it's raw. If you eat crab with a K, or don't like seafood "because it smells", I will reconsider our friendship. If you're afraid to even try a bite of a new food, I'll ask myself why I even bother knowing you, oh and I'll probably tell you I'm thinking that too.

3. Wine Snob - I lived in San Francisco for nearly 4 years. I spent a lot of time discovering and learning all about wine - learning being the key word here. There is a difference between Pinot, Merlot and Cabernet. I detest people that say "I really don't like white wine. I'm more of a red person." Have you ever tried Viongier? Sancerrre? Ugh. I detest people that drink White Zinfandel or red wine with an ice cube. It's like putting ketchup on steak. Take just a wee jump and be adventerous. Drinking a class of Meritage will not kill you. I promise. A good wine can make a mediocre dinner, amazing, and an amazing dinner, monumental.

4. TV snob - I don't really watch network television. And if you do, I will chalk this up to the fact that you like TV that serves the lowest common denominator of humor and storyline. I prefer HBO, PBS and Comedy Central - and this is mainly "The Daily Show". Oh, and BBC America, of course. I think network TV is contributing to the stupidy of our nation. It perpetuates the banality of suburban family life and doesn't address global issues, or challenge imagination. I'll make sure and tell you that "Oh I've never heard of that show. I don't watch normal television."

So, you see dear reader, I'm a full blown SNOB. I had no idea until I really took stock in all the categories that snob out. When added up, it makes me a snob - not a bitch, but a snob. Well, I've accepted it. Because if being a snob means that I look for originality, personality, character, adventure and richness in my fashion, food, wine, and TV, then yeah, I'll settle for the title.

Mind, blown

Went to see LCD Soundsystem & Arcade Fire at Red Rocks Amphitheater this past Monday. Honestly, just saying all those things in one sentence you can imagine how awesome the show was, and let me assure you, indeed, your imagination is correct. The weather was a perfect Colorado fall evening, a sky full of stars, and red, geologic formations loomed overhead ready to provide unmatched acoustics. The audience came ready for a kick-ass show, and neither band disappointed. Being that I have seen Arcade Fire a few times, I knew they were going to rock it. I was more excited to see LCD. Shazaaam, they blew my mind. I felt euphoric - like I was drunk, on ecstasy, acid and really good shrooms all at once without a horrible vomitous mess at the end. Seriously, that crazy. There was a constant pulse rockin' me to the core. The electronic beats were reminiscent, yet totally new, mixed and remixed with bigger, better, bolder lyrics. The mastermind (singer/songwriter/dj) probably blew his vocal chords and sweated off 25 pounds with excitement for the show. He broke into a 10-minute long rave session like I haven't heard since my old mid90s "Rave 'till dawn" cd and I loved every minute of it. Here it is:

CrazyVirgo's Top 30 songs, so far

Today is my birthday. So, in honor of FINALLY turning 30, here are my Top 30 songs of all time, so far.
(in no particular order)

1. Reverence - Jesus & Mary Chain
2. Regret - New Order
3. Buffalo Stance - Neneh Cherry
4. Freedom - George Micheal
5. I Wanna Be Adored - Stone Roses
6. Running Up That Hill - Kate Bush
7. To the Sky - Maps
8. Neighborhood #3 - Arcade Fire
9. Divorce Song - Liz Phair
10. Life is Sweet - Chemical Brothers
11. Big Pimpn' - Jay-Z
12. Bachelorette - Bjork
13. Protection - Massive Attack
14. Clocks - Coldplay
15. Let Down - Radiohead
16. Pounding - Doves
17. Clint Eastwood - Gorillaz
18. Born Slippy - Underworld
19. Dig Me Out - Sleater-Kinney
20. The District Sleeps Tonight - The Postal Service
21. Deep Red Bells - Neko Case
22. Forever in Blue Jeans - Neil Diamond
23. Gravity Rides Everything - Modest Mouse
24. Nothing Compares 2 U - Sinead O'Connor
25. Lullaby of Clubland - Everything but the Girl
26. The Shining - Badly Drawn Boy
27. Laid - James
28. Untouchable Face - Ani Difranco
29. Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode
30. Little Earthquakes - Tori Amos

My last hours of 29-ness

Tomorrow I turn 30. It's a day I've been waiting for since the first time I watched the show "thirtysomething" and decided that I wanted to be 30 ASAP. I desperately wanted to be Hope - the writer struggling with her decision to be a stay at home mother with a successful husband working in advertising. Alas, here I am, on the eve of my 30s, a writer, no kids, married to a husband who works in advertising. Pretty close.

I liked my 20s. They started in Lawrence, KS - a great place to start. Then quickly moved to Denver, for a moment, where I pretended to be a post-grad feminist advertising junior executive with short crazy hair. Then I met Gentleman Lover approximately 15 minutes later and decided he would be the man for me. After an exhaustive 6 month pursuit, and a drunk night at a bar where I thought yelling at him for not dating me would make him date me, he gave in. Then, he moved to San Francisco. I have to thank him for that. It was the swift kick in the ass I needed to be adventurous and move out of my comfort zone. It defined my 20s. I might have had a personality before moving to SF, but my independence, curiosity, spirit and fashion most certainly showed themselves in the 4 glorious years I spent in that crazy city. I might also thank the busty blond that was hanging out with Gentleman Lover while I was still living in Denver. She definitely expedited the decision to move to SF with him.

Since my "dating 20s" were spent alongside Gentleman Lover, I don't have any tales of strange men and awkward first dates to recount. Thankfully. Again, thanks to Gentleman Lover for saving me from empty sex with strange men - not that it ever would have happened of course. I'm a lady. But I wouldn't trade one day of my twenties with GL for anything. Who wants to go on a bazillion bad dates when you can go on date after date after date with the same man and know that's it's always going to turn out fantastic.

SO, to recap my last ten years, before I move into a more interesting 10, I graduated from the University of Kansas, moved to Denver, worked in advertising, met GL, fell madly in love, moved to SF, worked in advertising, decided to stop working in advertising, moved with GL to Seattle, worked at Urban Outfitters, tried to be a hipster, went to London & Spain, worked at a crazy Greek restaurant, went back to SF to grad school (ad school) for one year, met some awesome lady friends, moved to Chicago with my spicy Indian partner, lived there for 6 of the hottest and coldest months of my life, moved back to Seattle with GL, worked in the creative department of a large Seattle-based department store (which shall remain nameless) for about 5 minutes, worked as a writer in a bigtime advertising agency, hated it, made no money so worked at a deli and learned to work a meat slicer, worked in a design shop, loved it, lived happily in Seattle riding my bike and going to music shows, moved to Boulder for GL's awesome job, found supercool ad/design shop to work at, love love love it, got married on Orcas Island, went to Belize, came back to Boulder. Exhale. I think that's pretty good so far.

Now, I'm ready to welcome my 30s, where I will be classy, sophisticated, smarter, wiser, more fashionable, and try to drop the F-bomb less. If you see me in the next several hours, I might be expelling all my 20-something demons by way of cursing loudly, drinking profusely in public and making a scene. Or just sitting on the couch watching re-runs of Sex in the City.

How I met Creepy Kitten Man

I would say this scene only happens in the large cities full of crazy people, but quite frankly, I never saw anything this cracked out when I lived in San Francisco. Congratulations, Lawrence, Kansas. You have crazier citizens than California. Yes, this man has sparkly kitten ears and kitten paws. And, if he would have turned around, you would have seen his sparkly kitten tail. He also probably has a shack full of co-eds down by the river.

Me: Rrrreeeeaarrr

Cat guy: I want to make a skin suit out of you. Prrrrr

Mayor: I love the camera. I love the Jayhawks.

Wait until the money sh*t hits

It was an evening of booze. So, we go to Crown Center in Kansas City for the Irish Festival. Know how I know it was an Irish Festival? They dyed the fountains green. The water ran like slimey lime sherbert and it was glorious. Every Irish bar in 50 miles made themselves portable and brought their bangers to the party. I know this because I ate them. We arrived right in time for the beginning of the festival kick-off - the 2nd Greatest U2 coverband of all time: 2U. In front of an audience of 40-45 people, all sitting in folding chairs with prozac smiles, the Mayor, First Lady, GL and I attempted to get everyone out of their seats. At first we played along, and pretended that we were in Dublin, seeing Bono, circa 1995, only slightly fatter. And then, Bono fell over. Yep, that's all. Game over. We chugged 17 more Boulevard beers and high-tailed out of the concert on on to better things. Namely, a journey to a place Gentleman Lover and I assumed was going to a long walk for a ham sandwich. We were wrong. So very wrong. It was called Grinders, and it will now be our home away from home. I love this bar. It was gritty. There was a motley band of bike messengers stationed outside to intimidate you upon arrival. They served beer. Pizza. and oddly enough Ham Sandwiches. It was money. We ordered pizza and burnt our mouths off. But not too much pizza that we  would miss the end of our perfect first evening in KC. Town Topic. The home of the best burger known to mankind. It was the capstone to our sublime evening. We thought our evening couldnt get any better than beef on a bun with bacon, cheese and pickles. But, it did. We hopped into a cab ready to go home and put our drunk ass to bed. The cab driver had other plans. No sooner than the door closed on the cab, then the party re-started. The cabbie blared "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey. We rocked it. Hard. We sang with every bit of passion for the song that we had. The cabbie knew he was getting a big tip. Then we came home and this happened: