"And the stars look very different today..."

It was July 28, 2002. I was 20 years old and on summer break between my junior and senior years at James Madison University. I likely spent all of my time figuring out the perfect away message for my AOL instant messenger and playing Snake on my Nokia phone with the Roxy print cover. Also, along with three of my best friends, I had scored a ticket to the Area: Two festival, a show put on by Moby where the line-up included Blue Man Group, Busta Rhymes, and David mutha-freaking Bowie.

We road-tripped from Richmond to Bristow, Va to the Nissan Pavilion, where we cranked Reggie & the Full Effect and called 911 due to a brush fire on the side of 95 North. On the way, we discussed how we'd heard this rumor that he wasn't playing the classics anymore, and we desperately hoped this wasn't true. We all had songs we wanted to hear: Sherry hoped for a Ziggy Stardust (a song we all loved thanks to our time as fans of the X-Ray Dudes), Becky wanted a rendition of China Girl, and Amanda clearly longed for Let's Dance. As for me, I couldn't think of one song I absolutely felt I had to hear; more than anything, I just wanted to see the man in person, in all his glory.

So we arrived. We found our seats. We watched Busta Rhymes completely lose his shiz. We crossed our fingers that Bowie would go on before Moby so we didn't have to sit through his set. And finally, as the sun set off in the distance, we got our wish.

Years before this, my brother played Life on Mars? for me, and it changed my life. I dubbed it "the perfect song" because I feel that every note, every chord, every piece of it is perfectly placed. It doesn't progress the way you think it will. It goes beyond the scope of what I knew to be music-- to me, this transcended into pure artistry.

Back in 2002, the set began. I heard the opening chords to Life on Mars?, and I stood up without thinking. That beautiful man walked out on stage and began to sing, and I sang along too, knowing that I was witnessing something I would never see again-- the perfect song, pure artistry, live and in person. I was in the presence of a legend, and he was just killing it. This was the song I wanted to hear, only he knew it when I didn't. I couldn't stop smiling.

We all got our wish that night. He played all kinds of classics, plus all kinds of new songs from his then-just released album Heathen. Becky cried when we heard China Girl. We danced with the girls around us when Bowie played a stripped-down version of Let's Dance. And we all sang along to Ziggy and the Spiders from Mars.

We left that night feeling invincible, the way you can when you know you've seen something amazing, when you're 20 and the world is wide and open and the rest of your life lies ahead. I still remember so many details of that night like it was yesterday-- Bowie on the big screen, singing along to "Dwarf Invasion" on the drive up, the four of us running out of the amphitheater before Moby started with the chorus, "Nobody listens to techno, now let's go."

And now I am heartbroken. My brother eulogized that, to us, Bowie was like a family member, a distant uncle you've only heard tall tales about, who has an incredible record collection who really only exists in stories of legend. That's so true for me too. I cried myself back to sleep this morning when I read the news, knowing that this Earth wouldn't be the same when I woke up.

I've included a video of Life on Mars? below, recorded live in 2002 around the time I would have seen him. It's the best way I can think to honor this brilliant, unique, otherworldly, talented, remarkable man.

20 Ways To Piss People Off in 1999

Look at this treasure of a gif I found today!!

forever lololololol

So, while on vacation last week (oh, I went on a two week vacation to Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco, and I hope to blog about it soon, but that's another story for another entry)... what, where was I?

Oh, right.

While on vacation last week, I was thinking about some old saved emails I have in my Yahoo email account, which I've had since... the late 90s? I think? Man, old lady is old.  Anyway, yesterday, I decided to take a little sneak peek into the email archive to see if I had any beauties.  And boy howdy, did I!

Today, I would like to share with you an email I received from one Ambuler81 on July 28, 1999, entitled, "20 Ways to Piss People Off."  Of course, I had to share this with Ambuler herself, which I assume made her day.  After many requests to share the entire list, I find myself here today.  If you're having a bad day, please see the list below.  I hope this makes you smile.  If it doesn't, look at the gif at the top of this post again.  I will never stop laughing at it.

Right... to the list!

1. Go to the library. About every 15 minutes, walk up to the same guy and joke, "Working hard, or hardly working?"

2. At the dentist, start screaming as soon as you open your mouth.

3. Stand in front of the T.V. when your dad is watching a big game.

4. Every 30 minutes or so, call your friend who is baby-sitting and breathe into the phone.

5. Whenever someone asks you a question, say, "What?" as soon as they start to ask again cut them off with another "What?"

6. When someone asks to borrow paper, say, "Do you think paper grows on trees?" Then laugh hysterically.

7. Send e-mails to your friends with subjects reading "You'll never believe this!!!!!" Then leave the inside blank.

8. Put garlic powder inside the shower head in the bathroom (of course after you have taken a shower first).

9. Break into your fave celeb's house, wear their clothes and wait patiently to be arrested.

10. Fill your mouth with crackers at the table and talk to everyone.

11. Go to McDonalds and order lobster. After they explain they don't have it, storm out shouting, "I should have gone to Wendy's!!!!"

12. Tell a friend they have something on the face when they don't. Keep telling them to wipe harder.

13. When the lights go out at the movies, make barfing noises.

14. While on vacation with your family, suddenly scream, "Did someone remember to unplug the iron!?!?! "

15. Make up a joke that takes 10 minutes to tell and has no punchline.

16. When answering the phone say, "Yellow?"

17. Go to the store and buy a lot of things, only use all pennies to pay with.

18. Keep asking people at the bus stop "Cold enough for ya?" every couple of minutes.

19. While someone is taking a shower, steal their towel.

20. Speak with a fake British accent all day.

thx for the lols, past amber

"Katniss makes me as sad as I am hopeful for her."

So my buddy Miguel (subsequently known as "Migs") has been following all of my Hunger Games coverage (aka he is my friend IRL), and he went to see the movie this weekend, which he thoroughly enjoyed.  Migs had always told me that The Hunger Games reminded him of one of his favorite books, Battle Royale.  This afternoon, we met for lunch and decided to trade favorite books.  I have his copy of Battle Royale burning a proverbial hole in my purse, while he had the day available for diving into Panem.  He texted me just now to let me know he'd finished Part 1, and he gave me a short review thus far.

After I read it, my heart swelled with pride to consider him my friend.  He nailed exactly why this story resonates with so many people, and personally, I'm super glad my book is in such worthy hands.

"Katniss makes me as sad as I am hopeful for her.  Her unending suspicion and defensiveness, while entirely understandable, are really upsetting.  I enjoy the plainspoken way she expresses herself, though.  I personally have never been a fan of overly flowery writing from the first person, especially when used to describe dire situations such as this.  But overall, I feel bad for her and the circumstances that led her to be the socially naive, awkward, angry, sullen survivor that she is.  I sure hope she wins!  Go, Girl On Fire, go!"

You guys, I heart my friends.