Howdy y'all. I meant to update this thing last week, but basically, I was too damn tired. I was finishing up stuff at work in preparation for my vacation and trying to just get my shit together. What it all comes down to is that I was just a lazy boy and did not do anything.
I have been listening to the new American Steel, "Dear Friends and Gentle Hearts," just about nonstop since I picked it up last Tuesday. Holy shit this album is amazing. It is just a nonstop barrage of dance friendly punk rhythms backed up with fantastic lyrics and just gritty enough vocals. The first two tracks are rising quickly on my favorite tracks of the year, and the emotive force behind the vocals just make me smile and just...it's one of those things you can't describe, but just feels good. End of story. Get it, however you can.
So this Saturday was my best friend's girlfriend's birthday party in Brooklyn. After a convincing text, I decided to show up, my sister in tow. You see, my, my friend, my sister, and his sister, all grew up together. So we all ended up there..and I felt out of place. First, knowing your little sister is getting hit on is awkward enough, but then not getting hit on yourself...ego killer.
Also, it was a hipster party, so I felt very out of place. Everyone was just taking random pictures and trying to be clever and ironic, and it was just...awkward. No other word, but awkward. I mean, at one point "Groove is in the Heart" (I only know that song because of my pre-teen obsession with Pop Up Video) came on the stereo...and people were dancing. I'm not sure if it was like, ironic dancing or not, but it creeped me out. Seriously.
And props to my best friend for trying to be a good wingman, telling everyone I had the best job in the world. It did not work, however, more due to my lack of confidence than anything else. Enough self effacing, however.
Friday, before the party, I went gaming at H2H and won the FNM, netting myself four packs and rounded out some draft sets. Also, added to the team, which is a good thing.
Finally, driving back from Brooklyn, I saw a cheesecake delivery truck that featured a young child laying naked on a bearskin rug. WTF...that does not make me think of cheesecake. If it did make me think of cheesecake, I'd have some serious fucking issues.