Wednesday, May 17, 2006

good thing my i-pod is pink

I cannot ignore my ovaries. They are loud and proud and they are some bossy bitches.

So when they say, "katastrophe, LISTEN TO SOME CHICK MUSIC" you sort of have to go "ok, ovaries!......But people are so over your chick music." My ovaries are like your Aunt who tries to be cool and asks all the kids if they still listen to music by 'that Canadian angry lady with the long hair' and has just sort of figured out that pleats do nothing for her figure, and her 5 cats do nothing for her social life. They don't know there hasn't been a Lillith Fair for many a year now. They think Sarah MacLachlan is still sort of the queen of the hive. They don't know about the rest of my lovelies.

I've tried to get over chick music. I have stretched my music tastes further lately-- trying to listen to more man-music, or even just PEOPLE music. But I get equally excited when Wolf Trap's newsletters arrive in the mail as I do the 9:30 club e-mails. I love me some brit pop, I'll wag my ass at anything with a jagged beat, yes-- I enjoy enough indie rock to make myself presentable, but really my heart belongs to girls who play an instrument and coo along with it.

This is why I am enlisting help. Who else wants to hit up some girl shows? Namely, who wants to pay $16 to see KT Tunstall and maybe (gulp) $40 to see Ani at the 9:30?

KT Tunstall I will go to alone if I have to. I'll just pretend she's my friend. She's like, my age and Scottish and wears leg warmers, which puts her at the top of my list of PEOPLE, regardless. Also, hello, I sob while watching Grey's anatomy, and her acoustic version of Universe & U flattened me to the back of my couch. Come ON people, $16. Yes, she is a little processed, but she's so stinkin' cute and really knows how to put on a show. Did you see this woman live on TV? On the Today Show? She charmed the pants off Matt Lauer and then sounded like a full band with nothing but a series of pedals where she layered sounds over herself and that she harmonized with. HARMONY. Eat that, Simpson sisters!

Ani is a given. For any girl who's ever been wronged by an asshole, maybe liked girls (and now have loved girls), damned 'the man', or been an angsty teenager that grew up into an angsty twenty something-- Ani is life, if you said yes to any or all of the above. Yes, my mom calls her goat-girl and sorts of bleats "I hate meeeennn" to me when she'd hear her songs. Yes, a lot of her songs are angry, angry anthems. Yes, she could just sing the Buffalo phone book white pages and I would buy it and save the packaging and worship it quietly like I was savoring the last bite of my last meal on earth. I can't help it. I am part of the masses who would vote Ani for president. It's a fact. It is unchangeable. She's the poet of my life and I'd pay more than $40 to see her in her fake nails + electrical tape and black-booted self tell stories and enchant a room. We all flock to her shows to hear her speak. Sure, her playing kicks ass but we crave the cute little snippets that we can repeat and then squeal at each other later like we have the sweetest inside joke EVER.

I start my new job June 5. Clearly, going to a concert the night before my FIFTH day of work is a good idea, but really, it's not up for discussion. I won't even get real wasted. I'd just like to sway and sing along and maybe my ovaries will snap to it. And realize that some chick music is ok. Just as long as you mix it up a little.

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