�This business carbonation/Less pop more fizz/Comin� over on the radio station/It�s killing us kids� --Enon

The Enon show was so amazingly good. They are so my favorite band right now.

But we did too much last night. We went to the show and I didn�t get in at first because I didn�t have my license. And it was an 18+ show. I�m 26. But I was like, �Look�I have health insurance! I have AAA! Do you really think I�m 17 years old??� And she was like, �It doesn�t matter. I can�t let you in.� See, this is the trouble with going to the same places all the time. I never need my license so I don�t notice if I don�t have it. So I have no idea it was missing. Anyway, I almost burst into tears because I had been looking forward to this show for so long. I could feel the lump in my throat akin to that which one gets when witnessing one�s own receipt of a bad haircut. And the only thing I could do was leave and try to find my license. So missing the show would make me surly and desperate to find license in well, 10 minutes, compounded by my now damaged cred� which is so stupid because I could care less what this girl thinks but for some reason there�s always this feeling of inferiority when it comes to a missing id. Tyler Durden says �You�re not your fucking khakis� but he doesn�t say anything about id�s. (But a good case could be made for �You�re not your fucking projected identity� and that would fit nicely into Fight Club). So Julie and I slunk out onto the rainy Central Square sidewalk and I �arghed� emphatically. Then I called Flattop Johnny�s because that�s the only place I could think of leaving my license�for a pool table. And they forgot to give it back. Which is exactly what happened. So we zoomed over there, picked it up, and zoomed back, got a better parking spot than before and made it in time to see the hot band. I love these Enon kids. And John Schmersal is so nice and we told him how we love the new album and he was like, �when did you hear it?� (because it just came out Tuesday) and I�m like, �we bought it the day it came out because we�re dorks� and he was happy. And we were happy. The only way I can describe it is like a darker Beck. But so much more than that. They�ve mastered the art of mixing electronic and organic and it amazes me. My brother-in-law Brian and I have been discussing this for awhile because it�s what I want to do but we�re not sure how to go about doing it. He�d need really good ear monitors I guess to be able to drum along but if it went off it would be really bad. So anyway, now that Enon�s guitarist has left they�re a great streamlined trio which surprised me because I really dug their guitarist. The three of them are freaking cute as hell too. Like to the point that I�m afraid somebody�s going to try to make a really good cartoon out of them and ruin the whole thing. They�re one of those bands that first of all, I stand there and think, �this is exactly what I want to do� and also, unlike how I often am at shows, waiting for them to end, even if I like the band, I didn�t want it to end. And there was a really short guy in a brown suit with short messy hair (the suit had hair?) in front of me dancing like a crazed fool, but totally in time with the music, and I wasn�t sure I fancied his presence at first because he made me a little uncomfortable when he incorporated looking intensely at Brent for a few moments into his dance routine, but then he did a perfect vibrating robot and I was happy he was there. Oh Schmersal, you bring out the gypsy in us all.

So after the show we went to Charlie�s and then to a party for Andy�s birthday and it was so late and I woke up today with echoes of stupid things I said last night dancing like 300-pound sugarplums in my head. I�m sure I was fine but I hate that. And my horoscope today says, �Don�t be too outspoken as the Sun wrangles with Pluto.� But I was. Brent had told me about this guy so long ago who steadfastly hates everything Smashing Pumpkins have ever done because they�re �unoriginal.� And this guy is there. And he is entitled to his inchoate opinions, for sure. But Jenn is being urged by the Sun�s wrangling with Pluto and so makes it her business to tell him how stupid she thinks it is that he dislikes SP for no reason at all and that no one in their right open mind could possibly dislike Gish and certainly not Siamese Dream and all music is unoriginal when it comes down to it. I mean, everything is unoriginal. With that logic the guy shouldn�t bother living because it�s been done so many times before and so many other people are doing it. But by the same token, while he would be in some good company, suicide isn�t all that original either. So he�s fucked either way. But anyway, he�s just sitting there in his little striped-elbow shirt minding his own and I�m all up in his nut, �Hey, yo� Striped-elbows! Striped-elbows!� I get his attention. �So you hate SP?� He�s like, �Yes.� And I proceed to question him because I just don�t understand the logic. And when Siamese Dream came out it made my summer and my year. And it�s so not worth it to argue with said dude because he will doggedly cleave to his fruitless quest for originality indie-boy identity until the Archers of Loaf come home. And he kept asking me, �Who told you that?� And I was like, �It�s the word on the street.� I�m an idiot sometimes. You can�t fight idiots with idiots or something. (But then there�s Celebrity Boxing Match). And Brent was snubbed by some polecat because he said something about finding hardcore music through all of the solo projects that emerged from�. Crap�. I don�t remember what band it was (some �M� name�Minutemen? Melvins? Minor Threat? Misfits?), but the guy was like, �[said band] is not hardcore, man, they�re punk rock.� And then Brent started to say something and the guy turned his back on him. So many categories, so little time. I hate parties.

Wil�s new guitar RAWX! I wannnnnit. The feedback resonates like nobody�s business.

I�ve learned a few things about myself through the writing of this site. One of those things is that I was wrong when I thought I hated exclamation points. I like them. And I like to use them ironically. It�s kind of like the day I realized I didn�t really hate pink I just didn�t want anyone to pigeonhole me� like I was the sort of girl who should like pink and therefore I went subconsciously out of my way not to like pink. But I own my pink-love now, goaldarnitt.

Word of the Day for Friday June 7, 2002:

ablution uh-BLOO-shun, noun:

1. The act of washing or cleansing; specifically, the washing of the body, or some part of it (as in a religious rite).

2. The water used in cleansing.

Worshipers, who have performed their ablutions in the basement before entering the prayer hall, individually prepare themselves for participation in the communal worship. --Jane I. Smith, [1]Islam in America

There is ... a large fountain in the center, beneath an opening in the roof through which the sun streams down to meet the rising water, so that ablutions required of worshipers before they pray can be performed inside the building. --Mary Lee Settle, "A Sacred Spa Where Sultans Led an Empire," [2]New York Times, July 8, 1990

He went straight to the loo to begin his usual ablutions, soaping his cheeks and neck. --Brooks Hansen, [3]Perlman's Ordeal

In fact, writing -- more exactly, composing in your head -- formal poetry may be recommended in solitary confinement as a kind of therapy, alongside pushups and cold ablutions. --Joseph Brodsky, "The Writer in Prison," [4]New York Times, October 13, 1996

Ablution comes from Latin ablutio, from abluere, "to wash, to remove by washing, to wash away," from ab-, "away from" + luere, "to wash."