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Monday, September 15, 2003
Shot in the Face*
It was an eventful weekend. Our show with Michelle’s band. The Mogwai show on Saturday. My alma mater managing to score two touchdowns in the fourth quarter to overcome Georgia Tech.

It was also a weekend of “firsts.” Observe:

-- It was the first time my mother has watched me play in a band—live and in front of a crowd. And I’ve been doing this for over a decade. (I picked her up and drove her to the gig, as she’s not supposed to be driving.)

-- It was the first time (in this band) that I have played a show without drinking any alcohol. (I had a brevé mocha instead, because I play much better when I’m hopped-up and tense than I do when I’m buzzed or tipsy. Didn't really help me sleep later, though.)

-- It was the first time I’d seen Mogwai. (And for being touted as the loudest live band ever, they weren’t that loud. I didn't even wear earplugs.)

-- It was the first time I’ve put a baby seat on a bicycle.

-- It was the first time my mother has hosted a french-toast-and-sausage breakfast for several of my friends. Or any kind of breakfast, really.

It was a great show Friday night, a real-life CW moment for me . . . people asking me to autograph stuff and telling me that it was our best show ever. Some guy even said it was the best local show he’s ever seen. (Granted, the guy was pretty young and his musical tastes pretty narrow, but still.)

(* You’ll notice there are no references to bukkake in this post. That's because I thought of another great thing to say about someone, without cursing. When I’m feeling particularly full of loathing, I will use the expression “________ should be shot in the face.” Like, at the Mogwai show, there was a guy who kept holding up his hands to the band and gesticulating with his fingers, as if he were conjuring up more rock from them. Yeah, that guy should have been shot in the face.)