Tuesday, December 20, 2005

The Things You Don't Think About

It comes as no surprise to me that ending a six-year relationship is no picnic. By and large, most of the stuff that sucks the most about it is obvious enough to not bear mentioning. It's more the stuff you don't think about that sticks in the craw -- the logistics, the mundane details of ordinary life, etc. To whit, the little things that suck the most:

1. When signing over the lease to the car, having to say that you sold it to the other person for $1.00, because sales tax is less than gift tax. Or something. I'm still not entirely clear on that one...

2. Actually being given the dollar for the car.

3. Realizing that unless you spend an entire Sunday burning CDs, most of your conjugal music collection will be gone.

4. Spending that Sunday burning CDs.

5. Having to change the lease, the insurance, the emergency contact information, the veterinarian records...

6. Tabulating year-end expenses necessitates a transaction-by-transaction trip down memory lane.

7. Getting sentimental at astoundingly awful songs and television moments. I understand getting a bit weepy at some stuff, but not the finale to My Fair Brady or songs with verses like I know you well/I know your smell/I'd share a lifetime with you. If this is ever you -- Seek. Help. Now.

8. Finding the requisite shirts that were left behind and having to ship them along.

9. Realizing that all the catsitters of days gone by were friends of significant other's -- making you That Person That Has To Cut Her Vacation Short To Come Home and Scoop The Cat's Shit.

10. The contents of the Victoria's Secret drawer look awfully silly now.

11. Explaining the situation to the doorman.

12. Explaining the situation to the cat (see final instructions of item 7).

13. Changing the Pictures section on the website...eventually.


Saturday, December 17, 2005

Geek Disco

Just as I did when I took half a day to stand in line for six hours for a U2 concert, I just made excellent use of my vacation time this week. I took two days to go to NYC to attend, of all things, a Moby concert at the Bowery Ballroom. No ordinary concert this, but a concert just for fans.
After careful consideration, it was clear to me that the importance and gravitas of this event warranted my absence from work. But then I was dropped on my head a bit as an infant, so my judgment may be a bit clouded. Meh.

Well anyway, it was a very nice thing for Moby to do. And since his sales in the States are not quite what they used to be, he seems to have the time to do it. They love him in Europe, I understand. Them Swedes never gave up on their electronica, bless 'em. Not that Mssr. Mo is relegated to one genre, but nevermind. Moby and Company played for three hours straight, and afterwards he DJ'd for serveral hundred bouncing, happy geeks in a big ol' bouncing happy geek disco. Good times.

In response to a few queries, yes, there are actual instruments played at a Moby show, and actual singers. While he does use a few backing tracks here and there, most of the stuff that's sampled on the record is recreated live, making for a durned good show. The lady singer is particularly awesome. It is not "some dude on stage pushing buttons on a keyboard." That was a few tours ago, and apparently, Moby read the comment cards and stepped up his game.

The rest if the trip included the usual trips to Rock Center to see the tree and to the Met. New ground was broken with a trip to the UN, which I'm sorry to say I never saw before. I am glad that I went after I started working at Save the World Inc., since I am now, as they say, up on my shit. I even asked smart questions in the Security Council room. Holla. I think I would have been thoroughly confused if I went when I was an Entertainment Weekly-reading college sophomore. Not that reading EW is a mark of poor character. I love a good Hot List as much as the next gal.
VERY IMPORTANT: You CAN find decent parking at a garage in the East Village on 11th Street. $30/day is peanuts in Manhattan. No more parking in Newark and taking the PATH train, where people get stabbed and stuff. Not that anyone would ever do that. Heavens no....