Life As an Afterschool Special

At what point do you become so brilliant and good at what you do that nothing else, including your fans, matters? I have been thinking that a lot today as I try to process the Ryan Adams concert from last night. I saw Ryan Adams play at the State Theater in Minneapolis.

To start with, let me say Ryan Adams really is brilliant. His music is amazing. His lyrics are beautiful. His voice is stirring and soothing all at the same time. I admit I was not at all disappointed with what he sounded like live, if anything, he was more amazing live than on cd. He really is that good.

Last night I fell in love with his music all over again. I wanted to wrap it around me and cocoon myself in it. I called my friend Scott, who had introduced me to Ryan Adams, during the show and said that Ryan Adams music made me want to make out. And truthfully, it did. His music is sensual and sexy and passionate and brought out passion in me.

With all that said, I am not sure I would pay to see him again. His music speaks for itself, I think it would be hard for anyone to say something awful about the music last night. Dear John was amazing. Two was amazing. Everything he did was amazing.

What wasn’t amazing was his attitude. He complained about the sound system. He never interacted with the crowd except to yell at people who were yelling and clapping. He said we sounded like Cavemen and he couldnt hear us anyways. Then he played one more song and walked off the stage after just a hour of playtime. I was crushed. I waited for him to return and the lights came on.

The concert was over just an hour after it began.

I didnt understand. I called my friend Scott to tell him about it and he said Ryan is somewhat known for his temperamental behavior. He has a hard time on tour. Today I checked out the Ryan Adams forum to see what others were saying. Basically everyone said the same thing. Music is great, concert was short, Ryan Adams does what he wants.

I guess the age old question would be why a musician creates music in the first place. I gather that Ryan Adams is one of those musicians who creates music because he has to, because its in his heart and soul and it eats away at him if he doesn’t. His music is for him, and we are lucky enough that he lets us in to listen at all. But at the same time, in researching today I have read and heard his reactions to negative reviews from his shows. He clearly is passionate about what he does. And he wants people to appreciate it.

So where is the line? How volatile can you be and still keep your fans? How can you except people to appreciate you when you clearly dont appreciate them?

I am not sure. Because while I do appreciate Ryan Adams music, and I fully admit everything he played last night was amazing, I am not sure I would pay to see another show. In theory, Ryan Adams makes thousands of dollars to play music. But I am girl on budget. I am all for a good show and a night out… but I do not have the money to spend on a show where the musician may or may not decide he feels like playing.

The thing is a good show takes two. It takes fans who are willing to spend money, give up time, deal with traffic and people, understand that the sound might not be perfect, and want to stay anyways. Because the music matters. It also takes a musician who is willing to put himself out there, even if everything is not perfect.

It takes two.

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who spends all day yesterday totally stoked about seeing Ryan Adams, leaves work early, drives downtown, pays to park her car in the garage, and then walks by the marquee of the State Theater only to read “RYAN ADAMS. THURSDAY. 8:00″ What?! I called my roommate, who I was meeting, and left a message asking her to look at tickets.

Yeah, you read that right. Yesterday, Wednesday, I went to see the Thursday Ryan Adams show. I am retarded. That’s the kind of girl I am.

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who, in realizing that the concert I so want to see is still a day away and I have already paid for parking downtown, decides with my roommate to stay and hit happy hours. Have I mentioned how much I love my roommate Krista, because I do. She is one of my favorites. So we stayed. We were both starving anyways. Surely someplace had to have a happy hour deal on appetizers. Sadly we missed all happy hours… well almost all of them

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who then convinces her roommate to go to Hooters for buy 1 get 1 and half price appetizers. We had deep fried pickles and drinks. And we were the only girls who were fully clothed in the whole joint. And actually for the record, there are lots of friendly men at Hooters who seem to appreciate a well dressed woman. Or maybe they thought we were lesbians and they appreciate lesbians. Either way, men at Hooters= friendly men. Also on a side note… why in the world would you ever want to waitress at Hooters. I am the least feminist girl I know, and even I think it is kind of wrong wrong wrong.

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who maybe got a little tispy at Hooters (I hadnt drank in a while.. .I am lightweight) and decided to wait for Shout Piano Bar to open because they had even better drink specials. And Wednesday is 80’s night. And I am the kind of girl who is always down for a little Guns and Roses and Billy Joel and Soft Cell.

What kind of girl am I?

Apparently I am the kind of girl the waitress at Shout hated. HATED. And maybe it was because we already went to the bar and got a beer before she got to our table, but we were not her favorite. She totally ignored us and didnt even get us a menu. When we asked for a menu she walked by and threw one down on the table and left without asking us if we needed anything. Later, we had to flag her down because I spilled some of my drink, and she said we were being messy and then threw down a stack of 100 napkins, took our menu, and walked away again without asking if we needed anything. She was so rude that I actually thought it was funny but Krista was getting feisty. Tipsy and feisty Krista is a sight to behold. In order to make peace, I went to the bar to get more drinks and order Chips and Salsa. Even the girls at the table next to us thought our waitress hated us.

What kind of girl am I?

The kind of a girl who loves her roommate Krista, had a great time with her and even got digits after a night of singing along at Shout. Oh yeah I got digits. Ironically, not from a man. And surprisingly not in a lesbian on an airplane kind of way (although I am the kind of girl who accidentally makes dates with women on airplanes). One of the girls who had been sitting next to us all night and commented on our waitress hating us came over and sat in the chair next to me. She leaned over and whispered that she and her friend were not trying to pick us up, they were married and engaged, but they thought Krista and I seemed super fun and amazing and wanted to know if we ever wanted to have a girls night out. Then she gave me her card. HA! take that mean waitress, I am the kind of girl men at gas stations want to date and women want to be BFF with. Justification!

So… the night didnt go the way I thought it would. There was no Ryan Adams concert (although there will be in seven hours. YAY! ) but I am the kind of girl who rolls with punches, and had an amazing night anyways.

That’s the kind of girl I am.

(But I am still retarded. Seriously. How can I have the day wrong)

P: How’s that piece coming along?

M:Typing it up now… can I use the word asshole? Its a quote from the owner.

P: LOL, write it how you see it. We’ll take it up with the editorial board ;).

Apparently posting about how I am amazing and want a job writing was all that was standing between me and a gig.

I got a second job.

Actually I got quite a few jobs, including a two month contract, WRITING!

Oh yes, I am getting PAID TO WRITE! I am writer again!

Just thought I would share the news!

I am stoked!

Happy Dance!

On Thursday, when we had a major thunderstorm and tornadoes, I left my car windows open two inches. Sadly, two inches is all it took. It rained and tornadoed in my car, and nothing has been the same since.

Now my car smells like ass. Like liquid ass. Seriously. If they tried to bottle it and made a perfume of my car smell it would be called Eau de Liquid Ass Parfum. It smells like death. It smells like death died and left its rotting death corpse in my car. It smells like clothes you forgot in the washer for three weeks until you go to do another load (What?! Am I the only one who has done this?). It smells worse than the time I left my wet swimsuit in my gym bag in the trunk of my car for a week and a half. It smells almost as bad as a man who hasn’t showered in eight weeks.

Everything is moist and damp and smelly. I have tried to vacuum it and Fabreeze it and spray perfume on it and I bought air fresheners… nothing helps. I may have to just give up and catch my car on fire for the good of all humanity. It smells that bad.

Anyone have any suggestions on how to get liquid ass smell out of my car?

I don’t cook.

It’s not that I don’t like to cook, or I can’t cook… I just don’t. My mom will tell you I am wrong because she and I have slightly different views of my childhood, but I am telling you we didn’t cook that much when I was growing up. In fact, my mother has been known to have a meal catered and then claim she spent all day in the kitchen. My mom is also known for her amazing no cooking required bake sale recipes.

Plus, I am single, and a busy busy girl. Its just easier to meet friends for happy hour and get something to go then stay at home and cook a meal for one. It is also easier to date for dinner, but I am so past that. More or less.

However, this weekend I totally went outside my box.

My roommate was amazed because I actually put groceries in the fridge and not just a leftover box from a restaurant. Granted, I only bought a weeks worth of Naked Juices, 10 soup at hands, and two cans of Fat Free Pringles… but it was a start.

As if that weren’t enough living on the edge, on Friday I went to a wine bar with Kathy and didn’t drink any wine. I drank soda pop! I know! Crazy talk!

But my weekend of out of the boxness didn’t stop there! Oh no.

On Saturday I went to Ikea with Krista to buy candles and only spent 40 dollars! I know that seems like a lot for candles, and truthfully I didn’t just get candles. But I totally refrained from buying most of the things I wanted. See! Progress! Plus, I can justify it because 40 Ikea dollars is like 100 dollars in a normal store, so its like I saved money. In fact, its almost like I earned 60.00 dollars… just not. But almost.

Then, on Saturday night I went to Twins vs. the Tigers game and wore Tennis Shoes! I know! How sporty spice am I?! I started in my real gym shoes but couldn’t bring myself to walk outside in jeans and white running shoes. So I changed to jeans and pink chucks. Krista came out of her room and said “Wow! This is the first time I have ever seen you in shoes with laces” I was proud.

(side note: Krista and I had the best roommate day ever on Saturday; a trip to Ikea, lunch at Adrienes, a neighborhood fall festival, the twins game, seeing Hawk Nelson play, and then a late late pizza, trivia, and Karaoke night at Park Tavern. , Plus the day included a few wardrobe changes, including the above mentioned sporty spice look. SO MUCH FUN. )

But Sunday…

Sunday was a big out of the box day. I woke up early and went to the grocery store. To find something to BAKE. I know! It was our first Small Group and I wanted to do something special for everyone. I found white cake, and then decided to make homemade icing! And then I went to the dollar store and found fun bling to decorate my cake.

Gosh I am amazing! Martha steward eat your heart out.

Krista was blown away that I actually knew how to turn on the oven, but I made a cake! A real one! That people could eat and everything!

I was so excited I text Katie to tell her. Before small group I was supposed to meet Adam so I could follow him to the place we were meeting our friends for a charity dinner. I made him come look at my cake.

When we pulled into the parking lot I got out of my car and then made Kathy come look at my cake as well. I was proud.

(another side note: Dinner was good. It is good to be around Kathy and Tim, Mike, Kim, and Adam. We have been friends for years, so its comfortable… and like being home. And also out of my box… I didnt totally stuff myself on the German Buffet. I think it is because I went to Weight Watchers and lost 4.6 pounds this week, which puts me at 30 pounds lighter since I started. Yay! It is so unfair that I am becoming even more hot and amazing. I mean really.)

After dinner I made Kim come look at my cake.

Adam let me follow him all the way to my small group, and I was so proud walking in with my masterpiece. All the members of my small group Ooohed and ahhhed. And then they ate it! The WHOLE THING! And they said IT WAS GOOD! I baked and it was good!

Yay!

Even Ben, who claims to not like dessert ate it, and the boys all had seconds!

How is that for out of my box?!

so… maybe it isnt the prettiest cake ever….

But Oh yeah! I made that.

an open letter

To Whom it may concern,

I am starting to think that maybe I should have listened to people when they said it wasn’t wise to major in Journalism. Perhaps I should have stuck to studying something more useful, like origami or Spanish. While I am confessing, I also think I shouldn’t have dated my Spanish TA, even if he was muy guapo and I did get an A, because now I am stuck with a journalism degree and muy mal Spanish skills. In the real world that translates to a job as a personal assistant and a tiny paycheck that hardly covers the cover to First Ave.

Journalism is in my blood, but I was never as good at the “who”, “what”, “where”, and “whens” as the “whys”. I wrote an editorial column for the local paper where I grew up. I wrote about what I thought about what was happening in my life, and in their lives, and in the town I grew up in. I remember when Starbucks first came to town I said it was a very good thing. I got letters for weeks telling me I had lost all my small town values. I also got free lattes at the Starbucks, so I figured it was worth it.

The truth is I am not a small town girl. I am big city girl. I love Minneapolis. I love the farmers market and free concerts on Nicollet Mall in the summer. I love Lake Calhoun on a fall day. I love happy hours at the Independent and at the Local. I love 80’s night at the Shout House and dollar red bulls and vodkas. I think the one eyed willie at Psycos Suzies is one of the best drinks in the city and Matt’s Bar has better Juicy Lucies and cheese curds then 5/8 ever will. Red Dragon’s wondrous punch is wondrous, Peptios has great queso, and Market Barbecue has great sandwiches and terrible waitresses.

I also love Minneapolis because it is a good place to meet friends and date. And I have met lots of people and dated more men than I should in the eight years I have lived here. I have found that Zelo’s is a sexy place for a date and Bryant Lake Bowl is a good place to have fun and get to know someone. Cosmos is a great place to meet the girls for drinks, provided the girls can afford drinks that can cost as much as a pair of shoes on clearance at DSW.

I am a city girl, and I am perfect for a position where I can write about how amazing the city (and I) am.

Personally, I am fun, energetic, and sassy. I am not afraid to be honest and a little snarky. I am also not afraid to try new places, and I have used up most my entertainment books coupons this year. There is so much to do in the city, and I want to experience it all. Professionally, I am efficient and thorough. I am a natural leader, and people want to follow me. (some say popular, I would say socially blessed) My years in journalism have given me a love for a deadline and fast paced environments. I love what I do, and I do it well.

Please pick me.

Sincerely,

Jamie L Radich

(not to be confused with the humpty hump)

For thoes of you I have officially confused, I just bumped some of my favorite posts….

enjoy!

I asked my mom for a recipe for the bake sale we are having for United Way at work.

Here is what she emailed me.

I love this recipe. Drive to your local bakery and tell them your doing a fundraiser… They will donate a dozen of cookies… Take them home and put them on your platter… Wrap them in colored wrap, put a label on them with “made by Jamie” and call it a day.
Yummy Yummy. Happy Birthday my baby girl.
xoxxo Mom

yep. Thats my mom.

And that is why I am the way I am.

(my aunt mindy upon hearing the story informed my mother she forgot the part about putting on my pearls. My mother of course, thought that part was a given)

I am not sure I can be as witty and funny as my friends… But i thought I would try to follow the lead of Brandi, Scott, Susan, and Kari…

Dear Cost Cutters,
Have you no shame?! Do you not have a moral code of right and wrong? Do you not cringe at bad hairstyles and is it not your duty to inform someone that the hairstyle they like not only went out of style twenty years ago, but it is in fact debatable on whether “style” can be used when referring to their cut at all? And yet you send my roommate home with what can only be considered a girl mullet. I dont care if she likes the front short and the back long. Have you no shame? How can you sleep at night knowing you did that to her? You charged her for that haircut. Shame on you cost cutters, and your mullet giving stylist.

Love from the 21st century, where mullets are no longer “in”,
Jamie

Dear Peroneus Longus,
I hate you. I do not understand why you decided to tear when I was running. I was trying to make you strong and healthy, and I was starting to actually enjoy running. It hurt when I slipped on the trail and twisted my ankle, but it hurt even more because you tore in the process. Now I ice you and heat you, I have the doctor look at you and the physical therapist rub you out, and still you hurt me. I have even given up highheels and flip flops and switched to shoes with stability for you. What more do you want from me? Please get well soon.

Hating “practical” shoes,
Jamie

Dear OH Drivers Licence,
Please come home. I am sorry I lost you at the liquor store. I hope you know its not because I dont want you or need you. I do! Without you I am nothing. I can’t use my visa debit card or get into bars or drink big girl drinks or drive a car. I tried to replace you with a MN drivers licence today, but they made me take a road test and I failed. Please hurry home. I need you.

Soberly,
Jamie

Dear MN BMV,
I realize that because I lost my Ohio drivers licence I am supposed to pass a road test to get a MN driver licence, but maybe we could bend the rules this once and let my written test suffice. I am sorry that I ran over your orange cones while trying to park and ran a red light today, but I do not think your instructor was warranted in calling me an absolutely terrible driver. He was also being a bit overdramatic when he grabbed the wheel, I was not heading into traffic. And I am sorry I told him that he sucked and I didnt like him, but he was rather unpleasent. You are not my favorite.

Still taking the bus,
Jamie