Taxes, Beer, and Asher Roth

This past weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a while; it was also one of the most appreciated, because I’ve been working like a crazy person (One of the reasons there have been sparse new postings on here.) Now it’s Monday, and it’s not even 4pm, but already my day has been insane. I woke up at 6, did home work, work-work for the spa, and then more home work. I had a meeting with a potential vendor at 9:30, but it wasn’t until I was halfway there that I found out he cancelled last second. Not last minute—last second. So, with all my free time—I went home and did more work before going to school (Where I will be until 10 pm.)  I am starting to hate computers; B is usually the person who catches me venting my rage again technological products,  but they’re are such an integral part of my life that I guess I’ll hack it out for a few more minutes a day in order to post my blogs.

Since this day blows so much already, I’m deciding to reminisce about my lovely weekend.

Friday, I rushed from Job #1 to Job #2. I ended up back home around 5:30 after going all day, with just enough time to get ready and meet up with B; we were going to see Stockton’s Spring Concert: Safety Suit, The Maine, and Asher Roth. This was not my ideal line up, but since I’ve been so elderly and reclusive lately, I figured it was something to do on a Friday night. We met up with two of our good friends D and E outside the big, blue gym, got frisked, and entered the building.

If you were wondering where you could go to find a bunch of really skanky girls in one place—if you wanted to go to a show where there were cops ever 5 feet and the stench of bad weed in the air---if you wanted to hang out with a bunch of Hollister-wearing tool bags who start mosh pits during a wordless pop song—if you wanted to watch a bunch of drunk teenagers make out on top of you: THIS WAS THE PLACE FOR YOU!I was in my own personal hell. I’m cringing now writing about it.

*Let’s take a quick break here and talk about bandages.

Apparently, the latest fashion Bible says something along the lines of:

IV. Thou shalt not be cool, unless thee
      and thine girlfriends own bandage skirts.

 V. In addition to thine bandages, thou shalt cut all
     of thine t-shirts in half widthwise!

Bandage skirts (if you haven’t already been afflicted by them) are literally an 8 inch long piece of widely-ribbed stretch fabric that you slip into, and they barely cover your butt. All of these females were wearing the EXACT SAME black, bandage skirts—most with some kind of tank top (despite the 40 degree weather) that they chose based on how much boobage they could show. I just wanted to say, “Excuse me—do you know that I can see your vajay from over there?” Belly shirts were another thing I saw WAY too much of. I felt liek I was in the Twilight Zone. (BTW: for the sake of everyone's eyeballs--this girl below is in way better shape than most of the girls last night, and the skirt she is wearing is TWICE as long as most of the concert girls'.)

The first band came on, and although the lead singer was pretty attractive (or at least, so says B) they’re music was not impressive. At all. I was bored and my ears were starting to hurt. A LONG hour later, The Maine took the stage. They were the only band I was actually interested in seeing, but they too were a major disappointment. The lead singer may have been a decent singer, but the sound man literally had his microphone OFF. All you could hear was mediocre guitar riffs and too-loud drumming. (I also think half of the band members were experiencing extreme gender confusion.) Towards the end of their set, the singer asked, “Can you even hear me?” The audience replied, “HELL NO!” That was funny. He then proceeded to try and talk some mumbo jumbo, but not after Shushhhhhhing everyone a few times, and asking a ghost light controller to turn off ALL the lights in the gym. “Can we turn off all the lights? How about we turn the lights off? We’re gonna get all the lights off! No? No lights off? Ok. Never mind.” I was embarrassed for the dude. They did another song, during which I got punched by a really drunk girl next to me who was shrieking all the words at some obscene decibel. The girls in the bandage skirts started crowd surfing, exposing all their secret places, and I knew I’d had too much. I was too sober to handle that—maybe a handle of vodka might have made that night tolerable, but I guess I’ll never know. B and I left and saw some crying girl about to get arrested by the cops in the lobby. It was mildly interesting, but not enough to get me to stay. As soon as I got in my car, I got texts from both my friends saying “You missed big fight.” That sucked.

The next day…

Saturday, I got my taxes done in the morning, and found out I’m getting over $2,300 bucks back! Oh yeah, baby! Now I will NOT feel guilty at all for spending $6 on a Mickey Mouse ice cream bar when I got to Orlando or ordering multiple glasses of butterbeer. J

After taxes, me and B hopped on a train to Atlantic City to hit up Beer Fest. I ran into an old acquaintance on the train and then again at the convention center, so we decided to exchange numbers and hang out afterwards. Beer fest was so much fun, and so was the rest of the night that we spent with our new friends. They were 2 married couples, which was new to us—most of our friends who start dating stop hanging out and we never see them, much less anyone who got MARRIED. It was nice. I look forward to double dating. I love meeting new people, especially ones who happen o be super cool and lots of fun. It was a great day.

The end is near.

Sunday B and I went to work at Prince Charming and The Little Mermaid at the Carriage House. (For those of you who don’t know, I work for 2 wonderful ladies who own their own small business hosting princess balls for little girls, and it is so much fun!) B was awesome with the kids, and made for a super cute Prince Charming (pictures to follow.) We spent the rest of the day relaxing, eating Chinese and Mexican and watching the movie Conviction (which w as really good.)

I am now counting down ‘til next weekend. Only 4 more days to go.