Sundays, as a rule, suck big hairy donkey balls. I've never, ever liked Sundays. My parents have this Sunday ritual that they've done, well, forever I guess. Sunday dinner is popcorn and when I was in junior high and high school I didn't like the way my mom made popcorn (she used lard *vomit*), so I'd make my own dinner and hide away for the night watching whatever Sunday TV I wanted to watch because the rest of the family was watching the Disney Sunday movie or some shit. Every Sunday feels like that to me still.
Now that I'm an adult (hahahahahahaha) I'm forced to really think about the upcoming week -- Do I have food to take for lunch? What am I going to wear? Which days this week do I wash my hair? Do I have enough clean underwear? There's the whole "trying-to-get-to-bed-at-a-decent-hour-so-I'm-not-exhausted-all-week" dance I attempt and generally am incredibly unsuccessful at doing. Staying up until 3:00 a.m. on Saturday and sleeping late don't really help matters.
But above all of this, Sundays just seem so lonely. I still feel like I'm at home, isolated from the family. I had a fun weekend, so that should be sticking with me. I'm going to see Tokyo Police Club on Tuesday, so it's not as if I have nothing to look forward to this week. It doesn't matter, though. Sunday is still going to be a desolate wasteland.
I'm keeping to my word about the shitty photography. I have exactly one passable photo from the Pete Yorn/Aqualung show on Friday night, so here it is. I wish I'd taken one of b cox's solo set at the Nomad last night, but I was too busy trying to be supportive to worry about taking a picture. Plus, I had a really shitty purse for trying to get a camera out while holding a beer in the other hand.
Also, a big hello and welcome to y'all who found me through Metroblogging Minneapolis.