I just spent 10 minutes standing outside without my pants on waiting for a dog to pee.

I think I might have said it all in my title line.

Like, "Hey Neighbours. My Han Solo tshirt is so awesome that it doesn't even require pants."

I am dog and house sitting tonight. The wind is howling and it's been raining all day, and the house is very, very quiet, except for the occasional snuffle of a poodleish puppy, the tiny little waddle of a Norwich Terrier that looks kind of like a delightful footstool, and the gentle snores of a petite moppish type dog who bites your ankle when you try and leave the house.

Tonight is much quieter than last night, where in I SAW RADIOHEAD IN CONCERT. I also wore my crocs to the concert, and then squeaked obnoxiously the entire way home. Welcome to the Sounds of Vancouver at Night: Traffic, Random Wet Stabbings, Marijuana, Sarah Sovereign's Poor Choice In Footwear.

Radiohead was tremendous. It's probably the biggest concert I've ever been to, unless you count Nsync, which I'm not. Even though Justin Timberlake broke out a really great run on solo to express how God Must Have Spent a Little More Time On Me. And he totally did. Like, thanks God for that thing I can do with a toothpick, some string and five cottonballs.

Watching the sea of people in front of the stage was amazing... as was sitting in front of the douchebag who spent the entire concert going, "Oh my God. Thom Yorke is going to... oh.. oh he is Alice! He IS going to play Paranoid Android! Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGodThomYorke. SUPERB! HE IS A GOD. I knew he was going to play this. BECAUSE OF OUR UNSPOKEN CONNECTION."

I saw Feist a couple of weeks ago, and she knocked my socks off as well. She had everyone sing as Merpeople in Deer Lake Park, thereby confirming that she is just pretty darn fantastic. I bought a tshirt at the concert which I wore consecutively for like, three days after because I'm awesome. I changed into it at the concert inside of a dirty port-a-potti, which teetered threateningly. But hey. It's a Feist tshirt. Even tipped over inside a port-a-potti, I'm wearing the shit out of that fine garment. ... Or not.

I decided in that moment that I would start collecting tshirts from all of the concerts I attend, up until the minute I went to the store booth at Radiohead and discovered the tshirts there were fifty dollars and I can barely afford like, an expired, half opened kid sized Apple Juice found in the discount bin of a Salvation Army. Luckily, I see nothing wrong with making my own impressive Radiohead tshirt with an old white tshirt and a Mr. Sketch marker.

Neko Case is going to Vancouver in early September... I haven't bought tickets yet, but I'm thinking about it.

Labels: Adventures in Babysitting, Music