Hooray for February, Hooray for Snow, and Hooray for (Soul) Power

This weekend was just what I needed... a little outdoor time never killed anyone, right? Except for that skydiving instructor who had a heart attack mid-air this weekend. But for me, it was a welcome change. Especially when one is cooped up inside most of the time with the 45-50 hour work week.
So I did a lot of things this weekend I normally wouldn't do. Typical weekends are for laundry and errands and maybe dancing around with the friends. Saturday is the special day when I prepare my Sunday lessons and spend extra time at the gym and perhaps watch a movie. But this weekend, I let all that go, and I went with the peeps to Los Alamos instead. Lemme tell ya, it was a great decision!
Friday night was excellent-- I was super stoked to stand up with my friends in the ugliest sweaters imaginable (mine could not even begin to compete) and to join them in becoming tug-of-war champions. We may still have a reputation for social awkwardness, but at least our numbers are strong. Also, I loved getting shushed by Scary Ro-Ro during a fireside. Somehow she's just not as threatening in a chapel (maybe because she knows it would be inappropriate to scissor-kick me in church)... I really did just think it was funny.
Another highlight: We went ice skating, and I did my best to participate. I wasn't the WORST person out on the ice, but I certainly came close. Dozens of people were good enough to hold my hand(s) and pull me along, but I was rather scared. I think at one point I started shouting, "I'm skating!" like Bob Wiley's "I'm Sailing!" in "What about Bob?", which basically makes me even nerdier than before, but who cares? And for the record... I'm not a hand-holding skank. Sure, there was the one time I held hands with two different boys during a movie, but this was just platonic skating, so members of the "I hate Rachel Sego" club can just chill out.
And speaking of the club... apparently there is one. I just got word yesterday after church. A nice boy told me he was afraid the branch was dividing into two groups... those who like me, and those who despise me. Wow! I know I'm a little hard to take sometimes, but imagine people going all apostate because they don't like the RSP! The good news is, the IHRs are only 3 strong, from the best I could gather. One of the members doesn't really bother me because he is a very silly young man. One member is a girl I've tried to be nice to with little progress, so I'd decided a couple of months ago to just give her some space. The third member of the triumvirate was a real surprise, but I'm hoping I can win her over with my goodwill. I really like her, so I was a little shocked to hear that she's part of the camp calling for my beheading. Anyway, I'm just trying to take it all in stride-- I'm waving the white flag of peace, but at the same time there's a little bit of inner-self-congratulations going on... you know you've really arrived when people start making T-shirts about what a ho-bag you are. Anyway, if being nice to these folks doesn't help, I may just ask them if I could join up!
But remember how this was a post about how NICE my weekend was? Yeah, don't worry. It still is. Where was I? Holding hands. Right. Very romantic. Not. More like very trying to not fall on my face or break my elbow. But I liked it. Skating is super!
Saturday was even better. In spite of a mere 3 hours of sleep, I felt pretty good. Wes Hanchett was nice enough to take me with him down a hill on the inner tube, and then I was ready to just enjoy the fresh air and wearing my super-cute galoshes. I'd never had another legitimate reason to put them on before! I wore them basically all day-- even to Sam's Club where I tried to flirt with a very attractive little person cashier (what is it with me and the midgets? But this guy is HOTT). Later, as I unloaded my car, I realized that the cashier probably thought I looked like a giant garden gnome, but really... who cares?
Saturday night, though, was the very best. Friend Jacob and his precious little bro were playing a nice concert at a very cold venue. I nearly died on my way there because what I thought was a turning lane actually was me driving in on-coming traffic, but that was a minor snafu. I loved, loved, loved this show. Here are some top reasons why:
1) Abraham the Poor-- Picture a very cute little emo boy with an acoustic guitar, singing his heart out to a 5x10' room with a campfire motif in red twinkle lights on the wall. I liked his sound a lot, but even more, I liked spending time wondering why in the world he was so disenfranchised. There's something kind of sweet about someone who's really convinced they're oppressed, whether they are or not.
2) Some crazy, bearded redheads skanking-- these dudes were huge, and it made me really happy. Normally when I think of indie-rock anything, I picture emaciated boys in girl jeans (and don't worry-- there were plenty of those as well), but here was the happy revelation that even monstrous boys can find their niche in the world of pop-punk.
3) The whole activity gave me an opportunity to surround myself with people outside my normal group. During the Christian metal set, there was this ridiculous little boy who looked like the love child of Dwight Yoakam and Pat Benetar dancing with a rubber mallet. At first I thought the hammer dance was a choreographed part of the show, but Jacob said it was just this little dude trying to be ironic. My friends and I tried to not be too obvious about laughing at him, though the whole thing brought me immeasurable pleasure.
4) Another great highlight was this funny little bassist. He was playing with the Las Cruces ska band, and so did not fit in. They had that chill-out kind of feel (wish I could have heard their lyrics a little better), but homie with the fingerless gloves and purple shoelaces was jumping around like he was in a House of Pain video. But there was something so likable about him! Whilst listening to another band, he did this weird little dance in the hallway where he kept his arms at 45 degree angles, with his hands held out like he was cupping imaginary grapefruits and squeezing them for all they were worth. It was a lot more avant-garde than sledgehammer kid... felt like he wasn't trying so hard. And yes, I laughed a bit at that bloke as well.
5) More laughter still-- a drummer from the so-called premier band was possibly crying during his set. Or maybe he was just really sweaty. But the best part was when he dramatically rested his head on his tom while the pretty-but-Bad-Seed-looking Keyboard girl gave us a taste of electronica that reminded me a bit of Erasure's Vince Clark... only less poppy.
And now, to be fair, I will wax poetic and get sappy about the real reason the kiddies and I went to the show in the first place: So I could wear my bottle cap belt with the seat belt buckle. Just kidding! We went to see Jacob and Brennan (and their other friend, I suppose), aka Avenge Apollo. So here are the reasons I was glad to hear them play:
1) They didn't suck. You know that awkward moment when one of your artistic friends makes you read a poem they've written and it's really, REALLY bad and you try to decide whether to sugar-coat it and find SOMETHING good to say (like, "Wow, I would never think to rhyme rubber band with Christmas ham... Inspiring!") or to just make it a habit of running away anytime you see them approaching with their black-and-white composition book. Well, that wasn't even necessary, because not only did they not suck, they were GOOD. Really good. I like music that's happy and accessible, or even mean, but still catchy. Again, I couldn't really hear Jacob as clearly as I would like (except I noticed "Baby" in a lot of songs-- next time, Jacob, don't take the word of the deaf guy in the crowd when he says he can hear you just fine!), but there was a nice feel to it. Brennan was AMAZING to watch drum because he reminds one of Animal from the Muppets-- high energy but with a fluidity that you don't want to take your eyes off of, let alone your ears. I was so pleased to hear this was something I'd have on my iPod, which makes being the supportive friend ever so much easier.
2) It felt good to get back into groupie mode, though I was trying extra hard to be cool. Obviously, I'm not much of a concert-goer, so it was easiest for me to sway to the music in the back of the room, hoping no one would notice what a poser I am. But I hadn't gone to a friend's show since back in Utah when I used to be the Ed McBand No. 1 fan. I thought those days were behind me, but it gave me a burst of youthful energy. Possibly.
3) I liked seeing another dimension of the coolness of Jacob. If you haven't already, read this guy's blog! It's a great Monday pick-me-up, and will have to sustain me as he lives three hours away. I kind of stood in the back of the cold room thinking, "Wow. And I get to be friends with this guy? Cool." The whole weekend brought a lot of Jacob (and now Brennan) satisfaction. I liked that the fellas sat with the University crowd at dinner on Friday night, and I loved looking at Jacob's shoes during the somewhat boring fireside (and that he let me beat him at tic-tac-toe). I was grateful he took my extra Depeche Mode poster off my hands because proud Brett thinks I'm in love with him (insert rowdy laughter here) and won't call me back. I liked skating with Jacob, even though I was pretty sure we might die before we made it all the way around the rink (we didn't). And now, I like being friends with a kid in a band. Am I suddenly so much cooler, or what? Yes, yes I am. And I've got the tagged Facebook picture to prove it.
Anyway, I call that a good weekend. Aside from the IHR club, things couldn't have been better. And now it's February, so people are supposed to wear pink (a flattering color on most everyone). I can write more about why I love certain people with an excuse (I ran into my high school theatre teacher the other day, and I just remembered how amazingly rad she is-- picture a classy, poised woman who looks like Natalie Merchant and Juliette Binoche) of the upcoming holiday. Plus also, I'm skipping the country soon. Hooray! February rules. Happy Groundhog Day. I got you, babe.