They Might Be Gassy

So, remember how I wanted to be the girl who knew all the words to the songs at the They Might Be Giants show? Well, five minutes into the concert last night, I dropped that fantasy when I was reminded by two girls in front of us how that actually looked (Oh, I know, ME-ow. Screw you. Sorry, it's early and I didn't get much sleep. I take that back.). And, the one girl was there with her nonstop beer-drinking, loud-talking, bobbing-in-my-line-of-sight, GAS-PASSING boyfriend. Yes, I said gas-passing! N. and I literally had to back away from our little standing area toward the end there. Ah, nothing captures a great night out like the moment your own boyfriend leans over and yells in your ear, "Does it smell like ASS in here?"

Aside from the ass, it was a really good show! We stood toward the back, a step up from the floor, which certainly helped my vertical disability, but not quite enough for a really good view. I spent most of the time leaning far over a railing on my right to see. But, all that jumping around and bobbing for a view managed to put 1,000 steps on my pedometer. Remind me to tell you about the psychology of the pedometer one day (because I certainly won't remember). Two thousand steps equals a mile, you know. Or maybe you didn't, but now you do. Anyway, this has taken a turn I didn't mean to take.

I know I was going to talk about those things I said down there the other day, but as I'm sneaking this in from work, I'll get to that at another time. Hey, if you're reading this before 7 p.m. (I think that's right) on Friday, you can catch a free They Might Be Giants show at Amboeba tonight. Look for us!