"I suppose there are people who can pass up free guacamole, but they're either allergic to avocado or too joyless to live."— Frank Bruni

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

hmmm...


The interior of my building is being painted, and in the elevator tonight, I saw a "wet paint" sign with the Sherwin Williams logo...

Friday, November 03, 2006

Music is food.



The US Airforce Band. The Airmen of Note.

I woke up today thinking tonight was going to be grim and lonely, remembering everyone I know has plans ... except for me. Then one friend said she has no plans and we tried to get tickets to one of tonight's showings of Borat! Thank you, God, for having other plans for me. I then decided to go to the free Airmen of Note concert two blocks from my apt. A night of free jazz ohhhhh yeahhh.

I've never gone to a concert alone before. Nonetheless, it was so frickin good it made me want to shout explatives, pee in my pants and cry all at the same time. You know when you get really emotional -you get a lump in your throat, it's hard to swallow, your eyes might start to well up, and you are speechless? I was in that state for the entire two hour show and it was one of the greatest night I've had in months.

The Airmen of Note is the premier jazz ensemble of the Air Force, and tonight they were joined by the legendary Phil Woods (you may know him as the saxophone soloist in Billy Joel's "Just the Way You Are"). I can't tell you just how good they were, they were that good. In fact, me trying to tell you how good they were wouldn't do them justice.

When I left for the show I was a little upset that I didn't get to finish my dinner, but when I was at the show, I was full. The music was sooo good - it was better than my dinner, better than watching Borat! on opening night in a theater that smells like feet/butter popcorn, better than ice cream, and, depending on who you're sleeping with, better than sex (hahahhahaa). Oh - not to mention the handsome Sgt who seemed to be staring straight at me when he wasn't tootin' away on his trombone. To not appreciate fine live jazz is to not know what's good.