Coldplay: A History, Next Chapter

Fifty yards away from the stage, you can see Chris Martin life-sized...like when he runs out on stage during the first encore to pound on the keyboard, the jumbo-tron showing the piano hammers tripping against the strings, and he croons the opening line of "Politik." Or when he raises his arms during "Violet Hill," outlined against the backscreen, holding his guitar aloft over his head.

And then there is the acoustic version of "The Scientist" from this odd little side stage up in the first balcony. Or "Fix You" when the lights go down and the whole stage is blue. Or the piano version of "Hardest Part" that makes you hear the song for the very first time.

But oddly, the best part isn't when you can see Chris Martin. It's when he's obscured totally...when, during "Lovers in Japan," blowers in the overhead light racks shoot out thousands and thousands of little paper butterflies. In an instant, the air is filled with tiny fluttering wings. The band plays, Chris Martin jumps around and sings, and happiness rains down on whispering wings.

_____
Life In Technicolor
Violet Hill
Clocks
In My Place
Speed Of Sound
Cemeteries Of London
Chinese Sleep Chant
42
Fix You
Strawberry Swing
God Put A Smile Upon Your Face (techno version)
Talk (techno version)
The Hardest Part (piano - Chris. dedicated to Jennifer Hudson)
Postcards From Far Away (piano instrumental)
Viva La Vida
Lost!
The Scientist (acoustic)
Death Will Never Conquer (acoustic - Will singing)
Viva La Vida (remix interlude)
------
Politik
Lovers In Japan
Death And All His Friends
-------
Yellow
The Escapist (outro)

Coldplay: A Personal History

"Spies" - First year of grad school. The tiny bedroom in the Abbott's Run apartments. Listening to Parachutes while getting ready for Clyde's class. Dragging out of bed to head downtown to the little brick office on Princess. "Spies come out of the water..." always makes me think of the light through that second floor window, the view of the dumpster, Kim Shable's patio, and the first slight easing of that summer's torrid heat when October arrived.

"Clocks" - I used to travel between Wilmywood and Charlottesville, VA to see Mike when he was in grad school at UVA. The five-hour drive was pretty brutal - an endless stretch of asphalt with very little to look at until you got on I-64 in Richmond and headed into the foothill country toward the college town. I can remember Sunday afternoons, getting on the I-64/I-95 interchange with the windows down and the piano unfolding into the sinking sun, the wind whipping my hair. "Home, home, where I wanted to go..." and wondering exactly where "home" was anymore.

"Fix You" - "And the tears come streaming down your face when you lose something you cannot replace." I sobbed relentlessly over these words as I turned out of the drive at Grace Street for the last time. I was losing something - Wilmywood, my first (real) apartment, my hard-won independence. I let go and jumped into the unknown, letting the tears come, letting "the lights guide [me] home."

"42" - The first time I heard this song, it gave me chills. "Those who are dead are not dead, they're just living in my head. And since I fell for that spell, I am living there as well." What an apt description of the last eight months in the aftermath of Ronnie's death...the retreat into my head where the dead live, where it's the safest and most excruciating place to me. Inside my head, I'm insulated and tortured by all that's there.

And tomorrow, I'll add another memory to my list...

Making the Band: A Dream Starring Pen, M & Kim

Here's the dream I had last night:

Me and Pen drove cross-country to L.A. to stay with M. But the impetus for our trip was that Kim Shable was leading a high school band in a very important _______ (competition? parade? after-school special?). And for the very important _______, Kim had arranged for Eminem to make a cameo, possibly performing (although this part is sort of fuzzy) some Michael Jackson material.

Me and Pen plotted our course on the map, and all I remember is that there was a discussion about whether or not the wisest route would include Montana or New Mexico, but definitely Arizona.

When we got there, Pen magically knew her way around the big city of L.A., owing mostly to the fact that she and J.Lo. have been planning to move there because the real estate is so cheap.

Once we picked up M, we were heading to the practice field where Kim was leading her stellar band through its paces. She became greatly vexed when I showed up wearing these very hooker-esque cork heels and flirting with Eminem. She warned me against matching up with Marshall Mathers, saying "Don't do it - you know he'll be no good for you."

And then she rescinded her offer to let me ride with her to the very important _______. That was okay though. Because I decided to drive myself - on a riding lawn mower.

The moral of the story is that if you eat too much steak one night, you might find yourself riding a John Deere through the streets of L.A. wearing hooker heels and having to call Pen to use her magical GPS powers to come pick you up at a McDonald's when the mower breaks down. Or at least, that's what happened to me.

One Date, Under God

On Friday night, I went out for drinks with a guy. Let's call him Mississippi. I've known Mississippi for more than a year, but it seems that all that time, he's been harboring the hope of going out on a date with me. It took a lot of back and forth and canceled plans, but we finally made it out to a bar post-work on Friday.

I had a nice glass of pinot grigio, and he was working on a Makers and ginger. We talked about mutual friends, about the happening of life. And then we started talking about the election. It's kind of hard not to - the elections, the local ones at least, indirectly affect his job, so it's to be expected that he'd want to chat about the tickets.

But then we headed out on the patio for Mississippi to smoke. Another little red flag waving in the wind. And then suddenly, a few puffs in, and he's talking about religion and how people who believe in God are rather silly. "If it goes well, it's a miracle. And if doesn't, it's a curse." That's followed by an in-depth description of the utter ridiculousness of believing in God. And then he said, "I'm going to come right out and say it - I'm pretty much an atheist."

Silence.

"Um, yeah," I laughed that Nervous Laugh in Response to Weird Situations. "I'm...not."

And so, as Daisy says, it always comes back to Jesus.

Hellllloooo, Dolly!

• 

• Blonde "Baby Doll" Wig: $15
• Ruffled Leopard Print Blouse: $10
• Rhinestone-studded Painted-On Jeans: $17
• Getting asked to "Shake Your Moneymaker" onstage at the company retreat: Priceless

Dip into the Half-Blood Pensieve

Addendum: Thanks to Mike for the tip.

Getting All Dolly-ed Up

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes?"

I hold up a clearly outdated, faded sweater with a Christmas scene appliqued on the front that I unearthed in our catch-all room. "First of all, let's discuss why you still have this. And secondly, let's discuss if I can scavenge it." I hold it up in front of me.

"That's really old. And ugly. What do you need it for?"

"I'm going to cut out the shoulder pads."

"What for?"

"I need more boobs for my Dolly Parton costume, and these are the optimal shape."

(I cut. I stuff. I return.)

"Wow," she says. "That's a whole lotta boob."

Don't I Already Have This CD?

Dear Sarah,
I have loved you for many, many (okay - let's not get carried away here, but I'm getting old, you know) years. And I have to say that I felt this teenage-girl thrill of excitement when I saw the video for "U Want Me 2." That was after I got over the pang of annoyance that your song title appears to be a text message of some sort. But it was new material!!!

I eagerly looked up the details on your new album...only to discover that it was a greatest hits album. I'm not trying to take away your right to a greatest hits...but...well, I'm a bit disappointed. Maybe it's because your last new album was Wintersong, and it was Christmas music, and it was beautiful, but not music you listen to every day in your car. And before that was Afterglow, which was lovely, but that was four years ago and even though you released two different versions of the live tour...that doesn't count.

Because Afterglow was preceded by an insanely long break after Mirrorball - which, quite frankly, was a live greatest hits album -- before Afterglow Live was a live greatest hits album. And somewhere in there, you rereleased Rarities B-Sides & Other Stuff, which I bought at a bootleg price in downtown A-town when I was in high school. Let us not forget the two remix albums. Oh, and that fake Sarah McLachlan album from Target that made me think that it would be covers of your favorite songs only to find out it was like "Sarah made you a mixed tape."

I guess my point is that you put out Touch and then Solace and Fumbling Towards Ecstasy in the first five years of your career. And the next fifteen brought just two albums of new material. Two! Since 1994, you have put out TWO new albums. I mean...two new albums since the first W was in the White House, and now all I get is a greatest hits album? After three different kinds of live albums and two remixers. I mean, if I'd even bought one of your live albums and one of your originals, I'd have like an 80 percent chance of having everything that's on your "new" album. I hate to tell you, Sarah, but there's some fuzzy math in there. And honestly, did you sit down and say, "Let's put 'Hold On' on one more album. I'm going for a record here."

I want to hang in there with you - we've been through a lot. But u want me 2 buy this new album when all I get is a text message? I dnt thnk so.

Less-than-three,
Ash

Viva La Vida!!!

Um, The Professor totally just bought us floor seats to see Coldplay at Philips Arena on November 5.

Floor. Seats. Section 5. Center. I mean. Floor!!! Seats!!!

Please, please, please, please, Chris Martin, play "Fix You."

(That totally earned him a blog tag.)

Another Perfect Weekend on a Mountaintop

The Professor: A List

* Has broken his nose ELEVEN times wrestling and playing football. I have only broken my nose once, and it was without a doubt the worst pain I've ever experienced.

* Also thinks that Heart of Darkness is a putrid waste of paper - just slightly ahead of The Good Earth.

* Nearly vibrates with hyper energy - like, his general frequency sometimes makes me tired.

* Has a pet peeve about people who have names that are nicknames - like Jack. He says no one should be named Jack because they should be named John and called Jack. Jack is probably my favorite boy's name.

* Told me about reading a book about cats in a store downtown and finding it really interesting. But not interesting enough to get a cat. We all know how I feel about my cat.

* Thinks that my laugh is charming - which is good because I laugh a) a lot b) loudly and c) rather forcefully.

* Totally adopted my fries-with-feta habit at The Grill.

* Am wondering if he should get his own blog label?

* Had a stuttering problem as a child and endured a lot of speech therapy. I've never heard crisper "t's."

* Called me a "pretty gal" tonight - as in, "I like to be able to buy a pretty gal dinner." To which I responded, "Did you really just say that?"

* Is a connoisseur of beer. My favorite bar downtown is a beer garden, and I feel hopelessly inept ordering after him.

* Somehow ended up in a conversation with me about bra sizes tonight? How does this happen to me?

* Owns a pretty impressive house with grown-up furniture in it. Like matching grown-up furniture.

* Has not read Harry Potter. I know, I know. He's getting a pass for a few months, but he better get on it.

* Is very patient about my disdain for academia.

* Knows I won't go out with him on Tuesdays because of House and Fringe.

* Really wants to take me out for Indian food which has me envisioning myself as Ben Stiller in Along Came Polly.

* Thinks I am infinitely wise about pop culture and music. He was so proud watching SNL a couple of weeks ago and recognizing The Killers.

* Sat with me on a bench tonight and let me tell him why I'm obsessed with Twilight...and that I'm not good at arguing, prefer the path of least resistance and that I might have to call my parents and tell them I'd be later than I thought. And he thought all of that was okay.

Word of the Day: Manicorn

Brought to you by my dear friend Ellie and the Urban Dictionary:

a mythical male creature who is successful (read: pursuing his passion and can pay his electric bills/rent), funny, chivalrous, masculine (read: not chauvinistic), adventurous, artistic (read: not suicidal).

See any John Cusack film (or Chuck Klosterman's witty commentary on Fake Love in Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Pops), any romantic comedy where the flawed guy comes through in the end...

"Where is my manicorn? I keep going out with all these losers!"

"Too bad I settled when I got married, I just met my manicorn."

It's a...

Every girl needs great shoes.

Vampires are Dreamy

Sugar and Spice or Snakes and Snails?

Please do not be deceived by its less-than-recent mention here at the Jungle: a new niece or nephew is well on her/his way. Eva's sporting a lovely bump, the greenness has subsided, and she's starting to eat again. It's hard to believe that the arrival is just five months away.

Monday is the big day for discovering the nieceness or nephewness of the new baby - provided that her/his modesty doesn't overcome the power of the ultrasound.

That being said...any guesses on the identity of my new lambie?

Perfect Happiness: In Pictures

Tumbled Thoughts from the Shoreline

Right now, I'm sitting on the, well, we'll call it a balcony of my hotel room and listening to the Atlantic fall on the sand again and again. There's enough of a breeze that it's sort of chilly in a way that simultaneously makes me want to go inside and want to sit here shivering just to feel alive. It could be that I'm tired - I was up til 2 a.m. working on our project and then up at 6:45 to get back to it - but I find myself staring into the inky darkness and thinking harder than I want to...

* About working too much. There was the trip to Orlando. And then another to Atlanta after that. I left yesterday morning to be on J.I. now. I'm headed back tomorrow, and then early Wednesday, I'll get up and head to Atlanta. And it's good...I'm proud of myself. But I wonder, what about everything else?

* I'm on this trip with two guys who have kids, and they're always talking about their kids. And I have nothing. I mean, I tell my Dillon stories like a good auntie and laughingly interject something about Kudzu, but sometimes, it just feels empty.

* I feel sad about The Professor and his ex. I feel sorry for her. And I feel sorry for me. It's just a weird place to be in for both of us - me and this girl I don't even know. I feel like she's having to go through the place I just was, and I'm looking at the situation, and thinking, "I'm glad that's not me."

* There's a quiet right now - besides the constancy of the ocean - that makes me feel so solitary. I can't hear anyone else talking, no signs of life. The quiet is almost eerie, and far more lonely than soothing.

* Lately, I've been thinking a lot about how we all think that happily ever after will happen to us. But the truth is, there are so many people who don't have it. For every happily-ever-after is an also-ran. I'm not condemning myself as an also ran yet - and this really isn't the part where I want everyone to tell me that my day will come. This is the part where I face the reality that you don't get everything. And I have stellar friends and a fabulous family life and a good career...and lots of wonderful things. I spend entirely too much time thinking about the missing pieces...especially in light of the fact that maybe - just maybe - they were never meant to be part of the whole.

Gettin' Down to Biz-ness

* With the fancy schmancy cocktail party at the Atlanta office tomorrow. Rah.

* With the college homecoming festivities - I can hardly wait for fried chicken on the hill. And I've charged my camera battery so that I can take approximately 800 photos.

* With yet another business trip to J. Island that promises to be...interesting. Leaving Sunday and gone on Monday and Tuesday. And packing my flack jacket for the angry mobs that are likely to be staking out our meeting.

* With yet another big opportunity at work in Atlanta on Wednesday - again, hand-picked by the creative director. And he reviewed my work from last week's meeting today and said he was so proud that he nearly teared up. And then I nearly did in turn.

* With a less fancy schmancy cocktail party next Thursday hosted by a friend of mine at a downtown hotel. And despite its lesser level of schmancy, I'm looking forward to time with friends.

* With pondering items about The Professor...the significance of the fine line between "when" and "if"...i.e. remarks like "When you meet my parents who live in a far distant state on the other side of the country" as oppose to if. Like it's a done deal. Like yesterday, he said "when" in reference to a family reunion. And then there's the EX Factor. As in his ex is coming for a visit - a closure visit, I guess? So. Yeah. She's here all next week, and I'll just be...waiting??

* With subsequently considering when or if to pursue dating someone else (no one in particular - unless Christian Bale is available)...but just...someone to keep if from turning into when so fast. Plus, I'm a hot ticket - wildly successful in my career, fantastic taste in shoes, and I'm smokin'. So maybe I should share the wealth.

* And then with thinking, Who am I kidding? It's 10 o'clock and I just want to go to bed and finish Twilight.

What Do You Make of It?

Last night, I had two dreams that I can remember...

...in one, I was at the Capitol, and there was a lot of construction going on along the side of the building I was on. But I made it through the mud and the fences to where all the Young Republicans were gathered to see John McCain walk past. They were all jockeying for position, and I thought, I just want to get a look at the guy. When I did, he looked way younger and totally different than he does on TV. And then I looked around and wondered if any of the Young Republicans were single...

...in the other, I met a Pakistani guy named Banini on a bus. At first, we had a disagreement over political correctness. But then he told me I had a nice smile and asked me out on a date. I accepted and we went to a Mexican restaurant. He wasn't really my type, but I was really into him...

From the Barack-icades

Whatever your political persuasion, please watch this. The Goofball (who also happens to be a diehard Les Mis fan) shared it with me, and I'm returning the favor.