The days go oh so slow.

Last night saw Cartel @ Irving Plaza (fanx Chris Black). Their shows are always fun, but the bro-down that happened in front of Erica and I was PRICELESS.

First: a dude was grinding up on his girlfriend during every song and his hip movements could put Shakira to shame. Except, you know, he was crushing her ass with his crotch.

Second: after Erica and I thought that was going to be the best moment of the audience-watching, a frat party fucking happened! Erica: "I forgot bros LOVE Cartel!" We watched two guys sing to each other and basically dry hump (faces red with drink, of course) and as we sat there and laughed, apparently one of their girls saw us and goes, "You think they're GAY! Well, they're NOT. THEY'RE HAVING FUN! And YOU'RE NOT!" Then she proceeded to jump on one of them and hump and make out and sing all at the same time. And the third man out flirted with both of them. And then tons more bros came and flipped OUT.

I'm glad they enjoy Cartel so much; I'm also glad we were standing right behind them to witness it.

Jeff brought the dance out at the afterparty, though I could only stay for a few songs. I do love Tuesday nights when I see nearly all my friends. Seriously, looking around a crowded bar and recognizing everybody? Sweet.

Adam graciously walked me to the subway so as not to be attacked by the miscreants surrounding pop punk bars, but we didn't get away unscathed as Gabe Saporta yelled out my name. He was totally scamming on my Harajuku Lovers jacket. I saw him at the LAMB fashion show a couple of years ago, which is how he remembered me...I think? Also, he took a polaroid of Adam, and then one of me and pocketed them. Sketchball.

Ran into Sarah, too, and she reminded me!

Tonight: Nightmare of You @ Bowery Ballroom!!! You should come. And buy their new EP. The song "Herbal Jazz Cigarette" = fucking awesome.

Also, Sarah's blog I Wanna Be Your Dog NYC is ADORABLE.

Tossed and turned in Brooklyn thinking of England. Finally slept and saw you there; almost felt real.

The Dagger: A Study in Pictures 001

She hates me, she wants to make out with me.

She hates me, she wants to make out with you.

You wish you knew what book.

And I want life in every word.

Smiling Like I Mean It

[songs that make me smile no matter what.]

3. "Clark Gable" - the Postal Service. I had my iPod on shuffle during this harrowing Monday* just as I was walking out of work. Having stayed late and pushing past the tourists surrounding Central Park, the song came on and as soon as those beats started right out of the soft intro, it took me back to the end of my sophomore year of college.

People, places, things triggered by a song...

My classmates and I had a month off to do what was essentially a senior thesis...in groups. I think it was two am and we piled into Evan "SOLOTRON" Solochek's car (there was seven of us!) at the end of our 45 page report, replete with quotes and appendices about the debate of goverment-sanctioned torture in a ticking time bomb situation. We were all fucking exhausted. We'd been working for a month straight, and we still had to make professional copies of it and defend our argument to a jury of professors. But in those wee hours of the morning, Evan, ever the Death Cab enthusiast, played us something he just got - the Postal Service. Most of us had diverging musical tastes, but we all agreed this was good stuff. We were all just so happy to be done, and the music commemorated the moment.

It's weird, because sometimes I'll listen to the same song and smile for entirely different reasons (hello, it has hand claps and my name is Jessica!), but today, I thought of this.

Hm. This was long. Here's a picture to pacify your shock at the abundance of WORDS.


* seriously, there's a cycle at work that culminates in End-of-Month which is basically one week of overworking hell - as in, my job gets its period.

Oh snap!

Also, it's October 1st. What?!