Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Thoughts upon reading NME:

[yes, I'm wasting time at work - I'm covering the phones, yo, not much else to do - by reading the NME's Cool List 2005 issue]

* JOHNNY BORRELL IS NOT COOL
I frickin hate Razorshite. He shouldn't be there. And at #24? Ugh.

* The lead My Chem dude - who's name I've now definitively found out is Gerard. I'm not good with names. I only knew that Mikey one - looks strangely beautiful in the photo they have of him [#20]

* The Cribs [#14] need to book an urgent visit to Toni & Guy or something, stat. That hair... sheesh.

* I'm really not convinced with Liam Gallagher at #2 and Alex Turner at #1 [as mentioned previously]. Maybe I'll create my own Cool List 2005. But call it something better.

* What's up with Yorkshire being the total hotbed of English musical talent? Is it 'cause they ent got tellies and electricty oop north [can you tell I'm a Southerner?] [And before the hating comments start: I'm clearly joking. I ent racist. One of my best friends is from Yorkshire...] that they have to make their own fun by making music?

Status Update:

Current Mood:
Not the best as my co-worker isn’t in again today – it’s totally taking the piss. You have to make some effort with work – that’s why it’s called ‘work', surely – and you can’t stay home every time you have a bit of a sore throat or you’re overtired. Hell, I got like 2 hours sleep last night, I’d much rather have stayed home. But there’s a thing called responsibility and obligation, innit.

Currently listening to:
Myself singing, humming and whistling various songs, especially The Walkmen/The Rat, Motion City Soundtrack/Everything’s Alright [gets badly stuck in me head], The Cribs/Mirror Kissers and The Paddingtons/50 to a Pound

Currently Haunted By:
The Walkmen/The Rat. I left Orchard Bar last Friday as it was playing; I turned on my ipod [set to shuffle] waiting at 2nd Ave station [rat-watching, incidentally] and it was the first song to come on. As I stroll up to Misshapes on Saturday night coming back from the Tribeca Grand it’s on my ipod again; I take off my earphones as I get to the door and hear the same song blasting out from inside. It’s everywhere I go. Pretty lucky it’s an awesome song then.

Current Thoughts On:
This weird mercurial weather – global fucken warming.

The word ‘mercurial’ – awesome.

Dark Room – until last night hadn’t been there since July/where I first hung out with CC in NY/I made out against that pillar/first coke experience/CC and Jordan’s dance off outside [see clip]/a fair few drunken nights – especially when we were drinking on the house/oh god remember when someone then ordered that round of Jagermeister shots…

Boy Crushes – bad news; I try to actively discourage myself from participating as it rarely-to-never leads to anything good. Plus I usually get really unwise crushes.

Girl Crushes – just as bad but totally different and thus not necessarily to be avoided

Going out tonight – do I? Don’t I? What are the options? I should probably chill and save some money. And, y’know, do some of that fucken massive stack of work I have to get done before Dec. 20th.

Pete Doherty – thank fuck NME seems to be cooling off – if only a little – on its suck-his-cock attitude

Alex [Arctic Monkey] Turner – oh fuck, NME just crowned him King of Cool? He’s like, what, 12? “Alex’s lyrics are working-class Yorkshire teendom flayed open at the guts and spilled steaming across the indie club dancefloor, and they speak to the hearts and souls of our tormented youth as directly as Pete’s did before it all went supermodel-shaped.” And no, Lauren Ashley, he really isn’t a hot teenager. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: you want hot teenagers, go to Misshapes

Lauren Ashley [Blogster] – the best. Seriously. Even if she does think aforementioned Arctic Monkey is hot.

Sunday nights - will be the new Friday nights in tha Oh-Six - ya heard it here first.



Sunday, November 27, 2005

Man In Black

Let's get this out the way: I love Johnny Cash.

The most popular artist on my itunes is Johnny Cash.

The one Misshapes photo that exists of me [I hate having my photo taken. I see Hot Scott and his camera anywhere in my vicinity, I duck and cover, just in case there's even the slightest chance I'll just get caught in someone else's shot] is me wearing my Johnny Cash tee.

I knew I'd made a friend for life in my good bud Jimmyjames when, for assisting in the art department on a short film he was art directing, he gave me a burned set of CDs of the 'Unearthed' box set by... Johnny Cash.

One of my top five songs of all time is Girl From The North Country by [Bob Dylan and] Johnny Cash.

I once spent a week in my room, never opening the curtains, only leaving to go to the bathroom or make tea and toast, barely making contact with the outside world, all the while listening to Johnny Cash [although possibly the less said about this week, the better].

So it's fair to say I had high expectations for Walk The Line. Lucky for them, it didn't disappoint. [The two leads do a great job - and they do their own singing.]

I'm not going to write a proper review. I'm not a film reviewer. The one time I had to write one for a zine, was like blood from a stone. So I'll just say this: Go see it, y'all.

the future's owned by you and me

112605_misshapes_004



I was watching them, standing there, her 'n him, the two of them, cute and friendly as puppies, and I couldn't decide who I'd rather make out with more.

Misshapes started off empty as, then by the time I got back later on from the Tribeca Grand, it was its usual buzzing self. Full of hott teenagers...

the cribs drumset



And for some reason I never realised The Cribs were northern. They were sweet.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Digital Ash in a Jersey City Urn

Text received: "So what's goin' on?"
Text I send back: "On line for the Bright Eyes show, it's fucking freezing"
What I think: "Holy crap. 'On line?' 'Show'? Could I sound more bloody American??"




View this clip on Vimeo

Loews Landmark Theater, Jersey City: beautiful place, lousy gig venue
The Magic Numbers: rocked my socks off
Feist: beautiful as ever
Connor Oberst: good but I've seen him play a better set. Maybe it was the audience.
Teenagers: so very irritating
Hoodies: what the hell? is it some "emo" thing? This kid wore his up the whole evening.




emo hoodie

Thursday, November 24, 2005

happy tofurkey [hey, i'm a vegetarian]

okay, so thanksgiving means very little to me besides a four day weekend [you all understand that t-g is something to do with the pilgrims landing in america, thus making it an *american* holiday? and being english, that would mean we don't celebrate it in england, right? 'cause it's strange the amount of people who've been surprised when i've said we don't have thanksgiving in the UK] but in the spirit of things, i'd like to give thanks for [in no order]:

* NYC
* all the amazing people i've met here, especially CCK/LAS/RH without whom my NY experience just wouldn't be the same
* this past summer
* myopenbar.com for fuelling this past summer
* myspace, for making it easier to keep up with people i've met here
* misshapes and orchard bar for some truly excellent evenings
* girl roomie for taking me to misshapes in the first place [and for her general fabness]
* LC and Lula magazine. Here's to many more to come, bub.
* my family
* the fact that my sister's heart-stopping seizures [wait - my heart; her brain-stopping-] didn't mean something worse than they did
* the people back home who've leant me moral support and a stream of emails when tingz were rough over here
* my dad learning what AIM is, thus saving transatlantic phone calls and more people to chat with when wasting time at work

crap. why can i not think of any more? this is terrible. i'm thankful for everything i have and have experienced and to all of you who've made a difference to me. i hope everyone stays warm and well and has a great thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

after a summer of liver failure, the MyOpenBar launch party...

So we got out of class early last night [supposed to go on till 9, egads] so I decided for some reason it would be a good idea to walk from class – on E. 42nd, opposite Grand Central – down to The Delancey, where the myopenbar [belated] launch party was.

One block on, I was thinking that in the kind of minus degree temperatures it was, it wasn’t such a good plan.

By the time I got to 31st, I was about ready to give up and head over to 6th to get the F.

By 28th, I was numb. So I carried on.

And eventually arrived down at the Delancey to find out THE OPEN BAR HAD ALREADY RUN OUT. Shoddy behaviour, chaps…

Monday, November 21, 2005

i'm on fiyah!

joe


So it's almost ten, Lauren, Jenne and I are about to leave my apt in JC to head to the NOY show at Maxwells [Hobroken], after having consumed a fair amount of drink generously donated by Bacardi. There's this really irritating beeping noise been going on for about five minutes. As it doesn't sound too urgent, we assume it's the portable phone battery announcing its imminent death and ignore it, or yell at it to shut up.

We get a call that the car we ordered is waiting downstairs. Lauren opens the front door. She shuts it again very quickly.

"Umm, gather all your valuables, we should get the hell out of here. Your building is on fire."

The corridor is full of smoke. Yes ladies and gentlemen, being the clever souls that we are, we've been ignoring the fact the fire alarm [I'd like to point out right now quite how unalarming and un-urgent it was] has been going off for so long.

Lauren, Jenne and two of Jaz's friends who have been round all go downstairs while Jaz, growing a little panicked - especially as there's a PA announcing the evacuation of the building - frantically searches for her keys while I try and calm her down and tell her she can use mine.

We give up, make our way down 21 flights of stairs [I get insanely dizzy]. We get downstairs to be greeted by a ton of firetrucks and residents trying to keep warm. I hand Jaz my "valuables" [a rucksack into which I threw my laptop, my DS2019 form - the visa form that lets me in and out of the country - and, er, a couple of magazines. Nice to see how I prioritise things...] then me, Lauren and Jenne scarper off to Maxwells, leaving the fire to the firemen.

And that was pretty much the most excitement I got this weekend.


NOY



The Nightmare of You show was great, although standing next to the speaker wasn't the best idea. The cab ride to the LES was very funny because Lauren and Lauren [yes, it got confusing] spent the whole journey speaking as if they were wearing industrial strength braces. And head gear. Orchard bar was crowded as ever, but great to see peeps I haven't seen in a while and meet an assortment of new people including Gurj's hot friends and the lovely Imaginary Socialite [or did i just imagine meeting her?]


gurj and andy

gurj & steven


And, er, the rest of the weekend was spent in a blur of trying to stay warm, Buffy season 7 and Brat Pack movies. Awesome...

Thursday, November 17, 2005

nothing like some good ol' homegrown rock-n-fuckin-roll

arctic monkeys 11-16-05 003



[that's right mofos, i got me a new camera. had to mug an old lady after work and steal her pension to afford it, but whatevs...]

so tonight me and me old china, miss lauren, visited the bowery ballroom to be serenaded by yorkshire's finest, the arctic monkeys.

what. a. show.

[to clarify, people: i mean it was good. it rocked. almost as good as the We Are Scientists show. maybe on a par. so gerry from LA, read things properly before mouthing off in the comments section.]

so many fucking english people there though, most of 'em drunk and obnoxious. lots of them yelling about sheffield or halifax or some other goddamn northern town, innit. it was enough to make me want to disown my nationality. to make matters worse there were a fair few that i knew, the MB kids who i always avoid, so i spent half the time hiding from those jerkoffs.

the crowd was crazy - i don't know if it was the amount of limeys there or what, but i've never seen a crowd so hyped and into it - well, since leaving london, anyhow. but we had an awesome time and managed to avoid getting our toes jumped on. it was great, everyone singing along 'n shit.

it's a very british brand of rock-n-roll - do americans even know what "mardy" means? or what kind of people would wear "tracky bottoms tucked in socks"? - and after the catchy-as-hell and ever-so-american pop punk i keep finding myself humming [yes Fall Out Boy I'm referring to you] it made a nice change.

when we left, it was pissing it down again [not so much fun]. we headed up to max fish to go see jenne and joe and brandon; whilst there i was texting the Little Scottish Boy, as I wasn't sure if drinks at Fat Baby were still on or not, and got an excited response telling us he'd just met David Bowie. what the fuck, man. we left too early, clearly.

[see what you missed. a certain romance. excuse the slight shakiness. new cam and all that...]


View this clip on Vimeo

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

cock-a-doodle-what-the-fuck?

So there's this band in the UK called Rooster. I'm not really much of one for their music, but I'm happy to support 'em, champion them, whatever, as the singer, Nick Atkinson, is a local boy: I went to primary school with him [he was the year above], our younger sisters were best friends until the age of about 10, and I used to looked after his little godson, George, before I moved out here. In fact, I accredit Nick with my obsession with drums: me and my sister were at their house being looked after by their childminder yeeaaaarrrrs ago [I was probably about 9 or so] and he let me play with his drums.

Okay, that sounds kinda wrong.

He let me touch his drumset.

Even worse. There's no way to write that without it sounding like a double-entendre. We were kids, for chrissakes, get yer minds out the gutter.

Anyway, my point is this: having not thought about the band in a while, I went to their website the other day to see what they're up to currently, and as the page was loading up, one of their tunes started playing.

A rock-lite cover of No Diggity.

Oi! Rooster! NO!*

No no no no NO. Just plain wrong. Nick, you may have grown from geeky kid to good-looking rawkstah, you may have the cutest godson ever, you may be a Chiswick boy but there are some things that are sacred and Blackstreet's No Diggity is one of them.

*possibly a joke only the english, or harry enfield-loving americans, will get...

Sunday, November 13, 2005

we regressed to 13 year olds and snuck in to see "shopgirl"...

I swear to god, Jason Schwartzman is the love child of Rob Hitt and Alex Sarti.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

i heart the tarts

i'd quite like to marry the tarts of pleasure right now.

and no, i'm not drunk. i wasn't drinking tonight. just totally red bulled up. hence why i'm still awake at 6:30am with no sign of falling asleep for a while...

i just had such a fabulous time at stolen transmission this evening, which i haven't done in aaaaaaages [mainly 'cause i haven't been there partying in a long time. this made me realise i should go much more often]. i kinda prefer it to misshapes, it's smaller and hotter and equally boring lines for the bathrooms, but it's less... sceney? i don't know. but SO. MUCH. FUN. and great music. sarah and karen, i love you.

they should totally start charging for the amount of bags and sweaters and jackets they look after though. on that note, if anyone sees a black sweater, it got mislaid somewhere in the DJ booth when bags got rearranged so their friend josh could crash at the back there.

dance parties are so much fun.

highlights:
- the manic dancers we saw at Lit beforehand, that CC and Jenne decided to battle. comedy.
- jenne & CC deciding to put on english accents on the walk from Lit to Orchard Bar. i haven't laughed that hard in a long long time. they were actually fairly good - jenne just sounded like a posh english person. and they were tring to drop in all the english slang they knew: "are you taking the piss?" "oh bloody hell, you bloody twat" "fancy a cuppa?" they started talking to some guy who walked past and i think they convinced him 'cause he yelled after them "tip your bartender!" god, they were brilliant. so funny.
- the fact that they were projecting 'you got served' on the back wall. cheesy hip hop movies - hollaaaa!
- the amount of tunes that were being played. it's awesome when the crowd really responds to a song
- the 'remix' of the harvey danger song
- the people properly grinding up against the back wall... and gurj bellowing across the dance floor "look at them! look at what they're doing!" brilliant.
- running into leith's friend jenny who i haven't seen for aaaaages
- the fact that i wasn't drunk so the journey home was a piece of piss. no falling asleep on the train.
- oh whatevs, the whole night. like i say, i needed a night like that as there hasn't been one for a while and it was FUN.

okay, the red bull still isn't wearing off so i'm going to be hyper elsewhere. shit, it's kind of daylight outside. yikes. fucking caffeine.

DSC02100

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Circle.Square.Triangle

test icicles
yes, this is blatantly stolen from their myspace page but i still don't have a mofo camera and i want to put pretty pictures up. and check it, they're hot.

Test Icicles pretty much rawked last night but I wasn't super impressed with Cake Shop as a venue. The sound system/acoustics seemed kinda crummy. And there was this hugely irritating guy down the front who kept trying to interact with the band, grabbing the mic and yelling "Fuck Chelsea!" Yeah, as if he even knows where Chelsea [London] is. These very-pretty-and-no-doubt-I've-seen-them-at-Misshapes-before boys behind us were talking about him as if he's something of a regular at gigs. They weren't impressed by him either. What a knob jockey.

Yes Johnathan from Georgia, I'm talking about you.

But T.I. - young, cute, English, exuberant... there were some times when it felt like they playing at home, just trying to make as much noise as possible to piss off their mum/dad/sister trying to revise for her GCSEs/neighbours, but there's some kind of charm in that, no?

Kudos also has to go out to Seva for helping me out last night doing what I couldn't [what almost led me to punch my mac] and helping me put my errant website in order. Cheers dood.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

so are the days of our lives...

So I keep starting to write a six-month review - can you believe it? I've been here six months already... like sands through the hourglass etc etc - but I'm in a very honest mood at the moment, and keep ending up deleting half the shit I write. So I'll summarise a few points so far:

* This summer was a strange mixture of amazing highs and crappy lows without much balance or normality in between, and although the lows really were fucking low, the highs totally outweighed them and I think I can easily say 2005 was one of the best summers I've had in a fucking long time

* There are some people without whom my experience in NY wouldn't be the same; I'm not going to name-drop them because otherwise I might start gushing and I don't want to embarrass them or me, but I really hope they know who they are, how much they mean to me and how much I appreciate all they've done for me

* I just haven't missed London at all. I guess I've missed the people I left there though...

*...Although sometimes it's more like I miss the calibre of friendships I have there, if that makes sense. The safety net of people I have there. That's a better way of putting it. But we all need to get away from that at some point in our lives, just to see how we respond, who it makes us [blech, I feel like some drugstore psychology is imminent]

* I miss hanging out with boys. It's one thing to text or message a chick you kind of know and be like "you want to grab some dinner/hit up this open bar/etc" but, maybe it's just me being pony, it has a slightly different resonance when you do it to a guy you don't know so well. I miss James D, how easy it was just to be like "yeah let's go for a drink" - there was never anything in that. Totally platonic. Hmm, maybe it *is* just me being crap.

* It's really interesting meeting new people, being introduced to new people, and watching how they react. Guys are - whatever, they're usually friendly, but girls - well, girls are very different. They'll either be lovely or they'll be pretty aloof and like "who is this new girl" [more so if it's a guy that's doing the introducing to me and one of their female friends or something]. It's kind of funny.

* I wish I had more friends. I mean, it's one thing to know kids at a party. Y'know, it can be kinda nice to be able to walk into, say, Orchard Bar or Misshapes and see peeps you know who'll say hi and stuff, but it's one thing to know people at a bar and another to have people to hang out with. And there comes a point when just "knowing" people isn't enough. But I'm not very good at making them, I don't know how, and I hate inviting myself places, despite the fact I've had to do it quite a bit to get by. And I know it does pay off, but I still don't like doing it. Plus, it's really hard to, like, break into friendship groups and so on. People have their set ways or whatever. It can be tough. Be gentle, kids. I'm not out to be mean or steal anyone or make out with you, I just want people to hang with so I'm not constantly bothering the [very?] few people I usually bug for dinner or drinks or whatever. I don't want to bore them or annoy them. I've heard a lot of people bitching about "oh yeah this girl just moved to the city/broke up with her boyfriend and is always calling me now, wanting to hang out". I so don't want to be that girl.

* It can be weird how someone saying hi or recognising you or just making that tiny extra bit of effort can totally make or break a night.

* It's a good thing I'm pretty self-sufficient and happy with my own company [read: has a tendency to be anti-social...] because it totally came into play at the beginning of the summer. I tried my hardest with the other English kids, but they just don't float my boat, so why bother wasting time trying to be friends, chasing after them when I know I could - did - find better people? I just don't understand how or why they move to NYC for a year yet spend the whole time with one another hanging out in fucking Irish pubs or something. Just stay in the UK, morons.

* I think I broadened my musical horizons and absorbed more since I've been here than I feel I did in the last couple of years in the UK

* I automatically now find myself:
- saying Zee instead of Zed
- pronouncing 'route' as rowt instead of root
- using the words 'awesome' and 'rad' without a hint of irony
- going up at the end of every sentence
- saying 'make out' instead of 'pull' or 'snog'. Oh, or 'get off'. I totally forgot about that phrase till my roommate used it recently.
- that's another thing, I now say 'roommate' instead of housemate or flatmate.

Wishlist:
- more friends
- better clothes [have you seen how sharply dressed some of these kids are??]
- better visa [and I don't mean a credit card]
- ie, a job here [that pays more than this shitty thing does]
- to move out of JC and nearer my peeps
- more writing gigs
- a new fucking camera. I miss my digital bitch so much. Can't believe it died.
- a massage. My neck and shoulders are caning right now.
- a new back tire [or tyre] for my bike.

I think that's it. Six more months. It's going to go so fast. I have to work on this job thing. Anyone got any hints, throw 'em my way.

November's kicking my ass at the moment and I'm being a little anti-social, I need some party action so maybe I'll see yous all at the usual haunts. You know where I mean. And feel free to say hi.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

one of those days, clearly

grrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaarhhhhhhhhhh

ARGH

hmpf.

and just when i thought the day might be picking up, it goes spectacularly downhill again.

fuck it. that's all i have to say on the matter.

i'm gonna go back to JC and - oooh i'm really craving taco bell or sushi right now - and make dinner and then ignore everyone and watch the royal tenenbaums in bed or something.

Monday, November 07, 2005

completed zines and armies of me

deitch spinning wheels 11.4.05
[polaroid as all my other beloved cams are broken or been nicked]

So Friday, we do the Deitch opening [totally trippy, I swear it would have made my sister's spacko brain shortwire again] and the Sonic Youth art thingy, but my head is aching so much I end up sitting on a stoop a couple doors down reading Anthony Burgess-

-as a small aside, has anyone else noticed quite how many hot guys work at Strand Books? it's obscene -

- then we split, P. goes back to Deitch and we head to Dean and Deluca where it's clearly our night for bargains as no one can really be bothered to properly charge us [and C. finds a metrocard on the floor that runs till the end of November]. We head back to the 'Burg and make some dinner and drink some wine and suddenly it's midnight and I, lame-arse that I am, can barely keep my eyes open.

Saturday feels like an April morning and I'm full of the joys of spring. We head down to the farmers' market in McCarren Park. While we're eating homemade muffins at a picnic table we spy Seva ride up, so we go and really subtly steal his bike while he's buying apples. Yeah, we're good thieves. It takes him about two seconds to track us round the other side of the van...

In the evening, which is slightly humid, like the start of summer, I head to the Knitting Factory to go see Army of Me with Gurj and her friend Leslie, who was lovely and had awesome pins on her jacket. Army of Me rock hard, I enjoy seeing them, then everyone heads through to the bar. Everyone - everyone - seems to be in the music bidness, and I feel a tad out of my depth. Gurj meets two friends she knows from Lahndahn, she used to work with, so I can at least follow their conversations about Popworld...

Me, Gurj and Leslie split about 10ish, although it feels like it should be midnight. We have a brief dance party in the deli round the corner, cab it back to G's apt in the LES, then collapse in front of Degrassi and Family Guy. A while later debates rage over whether to go to Misshapes, there seem to be multiple abusive AIM conversations with Rob Hitt, but in the end the two ladies decide to stay in. I'd love to stay where I am - that apartment has a black-hole like quality, you sit on the sofa and just get sucked in, never want to leave - but in the end I grab a cab on Clinton over to Misshapes, hook up with Lauren briefly to explain the no-shows, say hi to Rob and Omri, totally can't handle Misshapes sober so head up to the station. I walk up Bedford again, the first time since I was held-up on that street, and I surprise myself that I actually feel quite anxious. I walk in the road when possible, when there are no cars around. Get home around 2, girl-roomie is up and watching BBC America. No one else seems to be around.

Sunday and everything is done verrrry slowly. I spend a good couple hours in B&N poring over magazines [can't afford to buy 'em, just read them in store, pillaging the mastheads for contact deets...] then meet C. Back in Williamsburg we procrastinate, we make dinner, we watch footage of the fireworks from the previous night [I'm so sad I missed fireworks. I love Fireworks Night], we brainstorm for our zine [watch this space, fools] then we finally finally get the goddamn first ish of the zine all done and complete. Hurrah! So satisfying. Now to pass them out...

Sunday, November 06, 2005

what're you gonna do today napoleon?

so i've always said i'd punch anyone i saw wearing one of those godawful vote for pedro shirts, but i think i could forgive this one. check it out:


heck yeah

Friday, November 04, 2005

shattered illusions

y'know how there's always that person that you frequently see at certain bars or clubs or whatever, and they hold some mysterious sway over you? you know what i mean? kind of like having a small crush [no matter how inappropriate] on this enigmatic character. you always find yourself saying stupid things anytime they talk to you.

and then you see them out of that situation, walking along, say, Fifth Avenue, jabbering into a cell phone and slurping coffee and suddenly - *poof!* - just like that, the mystery is gone and they're just a person again.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Something else I didn't remember:

Addendum to yesterday's post:
At dinner last night, the Last Supper at McKibben (C is relocating to around the Graham Ave L stop today) I was informed that not only was Adam-Ant/My Chem Romance-alike girl hitting on me [which the three ladies I was hanging with all found very amusing], some big guy was too. I don't remember this and clearly wasn't interested. Then apparently when we were all congregated around the bathrooms and I was still not paying them any attention, they went into a stall and started making out. Eww.