4th of June.
As a part of Vivid, Weyes Blood was playing a show at The Sydney Opera House on a Sunday night. The show started at 6:30pm, the early bird special if you will. Can we start a petition to have all shows start at this time because somehow my body knows when it should be in bed watching Sex and the City re-runs, and it starts to act accordingly. I hope I’ve never offended an artist who looked out into the crowd to see me yawning and checking the time. I can assure you I’m enjoying the show, my body is just shutting down. Weyes Blood was incredible though, equal parts talented and hilarious. “I saw you all squirming in your seats” she said to the crowd, lightly roasting us for dancing merely with the top halves of our bodies to her one mildly uptempo song.
Weyes Blood was wearing a long white dress with white heeled ankle boots, her hair flowing long past her shoulders. She was also wearing a cape that she would open up when frolicking around the stage like Little Red Riding Hood, or Frank Constanza’s divorce lawyer.
There was a couple on a date sitting behind us as we sat down. We learned that she was Irish, going through a midlife crisis and unsure if she wanted to have children. You know, all the typical first date stuff. I leaned my head on Tim’s shoulder, a gesture of intimacy that you cannot do on a first date, but also because it allowed me to hear them better. “He is actually asking her really good questions” I whispered to Tim.
Towards the end of the show Weyes Blood threw a handful of roses into the audience. Tim and I looked to each other and smiled as people started jumping to catch a rose. We sat back like proud parents watching the kids have fun. Then, much to our surprise, a rose landed right in front of Tim. He quickly leaned down to the floor to grab it and handed it straight to me. I felt like the girl who caught the bouquet at a wedding, who was loving herself sick with attention. As the lights turned on after the show, I felt proud leaving the venue with my rose. It was reminiscent of Andy Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada when she replies “Yeah, I am” to wearing the Chanel boots, except it was more like “Did you catch the Weyes Blood rose?” Yeah, I did.
We went to a falafel restaurant after the show. The white rose looked a little out of place between our bowl of chips and pitas, but there wasn’t a chance I was letting go of it. As we walked down George Street, we saw the guy from the date walking home alone.
11th of June.
We went to see Rolling Blackouts C.F. on Saturday night. The venue was mostly empty, the band noting they had sold around 700 tickets, which they were very pleased with. “Am I still fun even though I need to eat a protein ball to get through a gig?” I asked Tim while we were waiting for them to hit the stage at 9:30pm. It was a great show to people watch. There were groups of young people dancing at the back of the standing area that were definitely high and having way more fun than those of us fulled only by a peanut butter ball. Seated were two mature couples, definitely old enough to be the band members parents. They knew every lyric and rocked out harder than anyone else. I watched one of them try and take a photo of the stage. I watched his index finger swipe aggressively over his iPhone screen, trying to find his camera roll, only to discover all of his zoomed in pictures were blurry. He then deleted each photo one by one. For what he lacked in iPhone skills, he made up with enthusiasm for the band. As the band performed Talking Straight he would point his finger in front of him to let the fictional person he was fighting with know that they were, in fact, not talking straight. His wife was wearing a bright red scarf and danced on her way to her seat after going to the bathroom. Tim and I were obsessed with them. “That will be us in 30 years” Tim said.
18th of June.
I randomly started watching Sex and the City reruns this month without realising it was the 25th anniversary. I skipped the first season because I didn’t need Carrie talking directly to me as I was watching with a double chin, and a coffee stained pillowcase.
Allow me to walk you through an episode that has been on my mind. It’s the one where Berger dumps Carrie via a post-it note. Now, obviously Carrie is selfish and insufferable a lot of the time, but I have to give her some grace for the Berger stuff. I can’t even say his name without getting angry (or hungry.) He makes Big seem somewhat worthy of the pedestal Carrie puts him on. While it was interesting to see Carrie date another writer, someone likeminded who shared her interest in films and books, it wasn’t enough to salvage this push and pull relationship. Berger’s fragile ego, poor communication skills, toxic masculinity and resentment of Carrie’s career success, made him one of the worst men of the whole Sex and the City series. He scolded Carrie for pretending to be allergic to parsley, gives double middle fingers to his answering machine and ruined Carrie’s hair by forcing her to wear a motorcycle helmet on their way to a red carpet event (unforgivable!).
After a lot of wasted time and red flags, Berger dumps Carrie via a post-it note that reads I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me. Too late, Berger. Too freaking late. The guy is a writer and that was the best he could come up with. It was a childish, cowardly and shitty thing to do. And I will be borrowing I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me the next time I need to cancel plans.
Carrie was at her most relatable the morning she wakes up to the post-it note. As she’s walking to meet Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha for breakfast, she yells “Oh you’re so busy! You’re soo busy!” to a businessman that runs into her on the street. Perhaps the most ‘Carrie’ moment was how at that breakfast, Charlotte delicately shares that she is engaged and the conversation quickly becomes about Carrie’s break-up. Carrie spoke longer about a post-it note than Charlotte spoke about being engaged. And when Charlotte tries to share some dating wisdom, Carrie says “paper covers rock“ as she sticks the post-it note over Charlotte’s engagement ring. I’m sorry, but I would’ve thrown a punch. Get that cheap sticky adhesive off my diamond ring, Shoegal!
There was one time I was Team Berger. Upon finishing his book, Carrie tells him she loved it followed very quickly by an EXCEPT. I’ve never written a book, but if Tim read one of blog posts and said EXCEPT within 5 seconds of his feedback, I would be like a sad Carrie in Paris. Or need to be checked into the Betty Crocker clinic. As a writer, Carrie should have known how vulnerable it is to share your work and she could’ve been more delicate when giving the feedback. Let’s be honest, I’m just triggered because she made fun of girl’s who wear scrunchies.
10th of June.
On the 20th of May 2003, Stacy’s Mom by Fountains of Wayne was released and received critical acclaim by 10 year old me. I thought the music video was a cinematic masterpiece. 30 year old me stands by this statement. I even considered naming my non-existent daughter Stacy so I could be Stacy’s mom who’s got it goin’ on. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t pretended to be Stacy’s mom (Rachel Hunter) in front of a portable fan, frolicking on the kitchen counter. I remember hearing a girl sing the chorus of Stacy’s Mom on the playground in primary school. I was standing near the library when my ears perked up, surprised to hear the song outside of my bedroom. When her friends didn’t join in, she said “Don’t you guys know this song?”. There I was, only metres away, desperately wanting to join in but I was too shy. I also remember another time where my parents were laughing at the end of the music video and me saying “I don’t get it! What’s so funny?”.
Tim let me know that the album this track was on, Welcome Interstate Managers, turned 20 this month. It wasn’t an album I was terribly familiar with outside of Stacy’s Mom, but after listening to it for the last few weeks, I’ve grown a strong affection for it. I especially think you need to be a bit older to appreciate lyrics like I got a new computer and a bright future in sales, yeah, yeah.
10/10 would recommend listening to this album while hanging around by the p-p-p-pool.
Byeee!
Thank you for reading. I’m so happy you’re here. Consider subscribing to my newsletter if you enjoyed reading this. I’ll leave you with this song I was obsessed with all month…