04.20.2002 - I'm Beginning to Think, Baby, You Don't Know

Thanks to my recent relative dissociation from band, I found myself able to wake up at my leisure and enjoy Picnic Day as I saw fit for the first time since I've been in Davis. In years past, I would have maybe taken a powernap between late Friday night activities and pre-dawn Picnic Day festivities, then spent the day participating in greuling but fun-while-you're-doing-it band activities. Today, however, I woke up at the crack of nine, cleaned my room, ran some errands and then went down to campus to devirginize myself to Picnic Day events outside of the parade and Battle of the Bands.

Frankly, I could have seen my laziness and discomfort in leaving the house preventing me from actually going to campus today. I did promise Rodney and Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld I'd attend their show, and I had urged a number of people comparable to the population of Texas to heck them out, so I felt somewhat obligated to go. Had I known I would be suffering an attack from the Lesions of Doom, I would have had the forethought not to be so generous in spreading the word. Although I want people to check out my friends, I did not want to run into anyone I know. Even if I hadn't invited anyone, though, the chances of me going to campus during the biggest event of the year and successfully avoiding everyone I know are about as good as those of Pat Buchanan winning a Miss Black America contest. Walking from my car to the coffeehouse was like running through some sort of "This Is Your LIfe" gauntlet, meeting and briefly chit chatting with people I know from anywhere from elementary school to the Newspaper.

When I walked into the coffeehouse, I found an empty seat next to Alyssa and the band already playing. Soon enough, my anxiety subsided, as the kids sounded excellent and I saw that the audience realized this.

The relief was brief though, as I scanned the audience and found more and more people I knew showing up. All hope of maintaining some sort of reasonable composure was lost when I turned around to see Katie sitting next to the window, just absolutely glowing.

Have you ever heard that song "Sick of Myself" by Matthew Sweet? It's one of my favorite songs. Matt knows what I'm talking about.

After the kids stopped playing and the applause died down, I ran around nervously talking to all my people, including Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's family, who thanked me for giving them a shout out in last week's column. In about fifteen minutes, I talked to about twenty people and fielded a phone call from my rarely seen buddy, Kevin. Usually, I'm a whore for popularity, but when it strikes at a time when I just want to lock myself in my room, I don't end up handling it all that well. It's completely retarded, though, because these people are friends, and I should get comfort from seeing them. I never cease to confuse myself.

From the show, Katie, Jackson, Alyssa, Julia and I headed down to to the radio station, where I had to pick up my premiums for the donation I made. Then, we headed down to the battle of the bands, where I played the trumpet for the first time in about six months. I did, if only for a moment, feel a little regretful for not participating this year, but I'm glad I spent that time socializing with good people and enjoying myself without all the bullshit that comes with being in band. I watched the battle as a spectator for the first time and firmly decided that this, much like baseball and hardcore pornography, is much better to participate in than it is to watch. We stuck around for a few songs before Katie needed to go home. Since she had walked to campus, I offered to give her a ride.

After dropping her off and stopping in for a brief visit, I drove back to my apartment where I planned on grabbing some sunblock, changing into a band shirt and going back to campus to play in the battle for a while. Writing and the comfort of my chair, however, prevented me from doing so. I tried to relax and recuperate so I could be prepared to go out for Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's girlfriend's twenty-first birthday. Before that, however, Alyssa came over to watch Sexy Beast with me.

I saw this movie once about six months ago and remember being blown away. Watching it on the small screen just doesn't have the same effect. Being able to watch it with subtitles so I can actually figure out what Ray Winstone is saying is a plus, though, so it's still good.

I don't think I've mentioned it before, but MTV is in town filming a reality show based around the Jewish sorority of which the aforementioned birthday girl is a part. Their pledges are all shoved in a Real World style house, and that house is where we met up for the evening. I didn't really know what to expect, and I was definitely a bit creeped out by the guys with the huge camera and boom mic, but super-duper creeped out by the surveilance style cameras in the corner of every room. The house is basically an Ikea showroom, and I would happily cut off my left testicle and eat it on camera for the opportunity to live there rent free. It's gorgeous, I tell you.

I tried to avoid the cameras as much as possible, but still had to sign a release. Once everyone had arrived, we took off to hit the bars. Because of Picnic Day, the downtown area was just absurd with kids. Fireworks, random drum circles and about three times as many cops as normal made things seem surreal. Regardless, it wasn't my scene. Even worse, all we did was wait outside for the girls as they got their free shots and left each bar. I was not upset when we finally decided to call it a night. Getting inside, in bed, away from people is just what I needed.

So, now that I've seen both sides of Picnic Day, I'm not sure which I prefer. In band, I got to feel like I was a part of something, but out of it, I have freedom and I get more than an hour total of sleep in the three weeks preceeding. It's a toss up.

-- Jeffy