A Rant on the Pumpkin Spice Latte

((Warning: a bit of foul language ahead))

Ah... The festive spirit of Autumn is here. If you're one of the many stars among the Twitterverse, or a follower of multiple Instagram accounts frequently using the hashtag #fitfam, you may have noticed all of the recent posts about a certain beverage containing a certain squash that, in some cases, literally rolls in this time of year, and the "basic white girls" who drink it. Maybe you know of it. It is the créme de la whipped créme. The mother-of-all-things coffee-ish. More famous than its other seasonal competitors, the Mint Hot Chocolate from Dunkin Donuts or even McDonald's Shamrock Shake. Did you guess it? Fucking right, you did: The one, the only, Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte. And I'm here to clear up a few things about it and explain the reason it is that amazing, even if I have to defend it with every ounce of caffeine and sugar in my little white body. So pay attention.

THE LOOK

We all know why the Starbucks franchise has boomed so much over its 40+ years in the biz of specialty drinks. Because it makes you look fucking awesome. Have you ever held a Starbucks cup? Felt the smooth plastic against your previously unworthy fingertips? Have you walked down the streets of New York City with one in your hand, like a bad-ass? I have. And guess what? Everyone moved aside like I was Moses or something, shielding their eyes to prevent going blind from the glow of the artificial orange coloring. Because you've got the power. They know who you are now. How? If you'll notice, the side of your holy grail has been engraved with your name in permanent marker for everyone to see. That's how important you are. And why else would there be three locations across from each other on every street corner in the city? Because without them we would have nothing. We would BE nothing.

THE ATTENTION

As mentioned before, the social media sites are just sipping this stuff up. An official announcement addressed specifically to white girls has been made via the citizens of Twitter declaring its arrival. As they should. Because as soon as Summer has ended it isn't enough that the temperature has dropped down to the mid-70's to really know that Fall is upon us. That is why, with Ugg Boots in tow, we impatiently await the Falling of the First Leaf and anticipate the coming of The Great and Powerful Latte. Pumpkin, the sacred food of which we worship. You think Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pancakes just grow on trees? Fuck, no! This is a time of celebration! Who cares that your wallet feels lighter each morning? On behalf of all the white girls of the world, I propose a national holiday is in order. You really want to prove you're a feminist to all of your friends in Book Club? Well here's your chance. It's time to take a fucking stand. Pinterest and Tumblr were good platforms for a start, but we need to get this on primetime for everyone above the age of 45 to know. I'm talking CNN and shit. Until then, word on the street is Fox News will be doing an hour-long special about it.

THE RUMORS 

You may have heard by now the infamous "Tale of the Pumpkin Spice Latte". Legend has it that if you say the words "Pumpkin Spice Latte" three times in the mirror, a girl in yoga pants will appear and tell you all of the things she loves about the fall. 

ALL TRUE. In fact, I performed the seance in front of my very own bedroom mirror just last night, right after spin class. She came to me, like an earth-toned angel in the wind, smelling of sweet apple cider and freshly bought artisan scarves.

It. was. magical.

And last, but definitely not fucking least…

THE TASTE

If you haven't experienced the extreme pleasures of drinking a Starbuck's Pumpkin Spice Latte, then let me break it down for you. First, there's literally a mountain of whipped cream you must conquer before even getting to the drink itself. Intimidated? Good. I'm not fucking finished. Once your lips graze its fluffy consistency you'll detect a hint of pumpkin spice sprinkled on the top like it's fucking fairy dust or something. Now comes the really good part. Once the whipped cream has disappeared from the top, where it has either melted in the drink or found a home on your upper lip, you'll begin to taste the sweet infusion of coffee, milk, and all that other creamy, godly stuff it's got. Whatever. You're pretty much drinking pumpkin pie. Your whole throat and chest feels like they've just been cuddling with puppies. That is the feeling of your soul being warmed. And that cute guy in the J. Crew sweatshirt sitting across the table who was just outlining a mockup in his Moleskine journal? You think he's looking at the girl with the boring-ass mocha piece-of-crap-pé? NO. You better believe he's watching you, this autumn goddess sitting by the window and cupping her holy cardboard grail, looking all cozy and shit like a fucking model in a fucking L.L. Bean catalogue.

So look, you can say all you want about this 12 oz. gift of liquid sex on a roller-coaster. You can call us basic or whatever, but there is nothing basic about it. There are inumerable amounts of ingredients and phony flavoring I can't even begin to pronunciate. Hell, it doesn't even contain real pumpkin! You think we care? Big fucking deal. It only comes once a year. It's like Santa Claus, but you can't eat Santa Claus because he's not a pumpkin spice mother-fucking latte. So go do yourself a favor, and try one. See if you can handle it. I dare you. 

How Online Articles Are Helping Me (Ruin My Life)

For years the internet has been a place for people to express their opinions, especially now with the copious amount of social media sites springing into popularity. I don't know if anyone else has noticed, but the content posted by the 1.19 billion (and counting) users of Facebook alone has transformed over the last decade. Remember the rush of posting a single status? Or how purposeful you felt when everyone would comment on the "Note" you just wrote, even if it was only a survey. 

Surveys, guys. Ah, life was so simple then.

Social media means way more than just another way to keep in touch with your friends across the nation. Through generations of science and Facebook evolution, the ability to share the clutter of the internet and what we see on our News Feeds has certainly grown. 

2008: The year of video uploading and sharing.

2010: All of those memes and tumblr gifs.

2011: That brief moment in time when you could create  your own polls, remember that?

2013: Ecards, Buzzfeed lists, BITSTRIPS...

I don't think I'll ever get tired of all of the Grumpy Cat memes, and I'm pretty sure I click on every Buzzfeed of concept art submitted by talented people portraying Disney Princesses  as goth, hipster, old ladies, whatever the case may be. Bitstrips were cute at first, but the trend appears to  be dying down a bit and, I'll admit, I'm not complaining. Sorry, friends. 

Now it's 2014, and what I AM delighted to see when I'm scrolling down into the infinity that is "load more" are a stream of informative and thought provoking pieces of writing. Instead of reading the Newspaper in the morning I log into Facebook because my News Feed is actually feeding me real news. I see writings from professional columnists at The New York Times to the insightful minds of everyday people at websites like HelloGiggles, and ThoughtCatalog. The days of "at the gym" statuses are behind us and have been replaced by before and after pictures of my friends in their bathing suits followed by #fitspiration or #getswole. 

On a daily basis I usually have three to six windows open on my browser, each with about five to ten tabs across the top supplying an article or video I plan on getting to. What I've really observed that is coming up more and more often on the internet is the discussion of Feminism and Gender Equality; issues I've never really had concerns about or even cared to educate myself on up until now, which means everything that is being spread like wildfire in media regarding Feminism and Gender Equality is working. You've caught my attention, and I'm glad you have!

The reason I mention this is because I'm proud that I, among others, am keeping up to date and informing myself on current events and discussions. I've always been a pretty open person to the interests of others, and try to leave very small room for judgement, so I read as much as I can. 

And eventually, it all starts to feel like information overload.

I read one opinion over here, and another over there about things I could never know about without studying the subject in college. Research articles with headlines like "New Study Shows We're Breathing Too Much Air". What?! **I just want to clarify that I made that up for demonstration, unless anyone proves me wrong with an actual study I don't know about.** Then there are those posts about the most extravagant marriage proposals EVER and success stories that have gone viral, reminding me about the beauty in the gift of life while also making me incredibly depressed that I am not doing something so meaningful.

And as much as I enjoy hearing about equal rights between the two sexes that make me feel empowering as a woman, I see these articles and lists with titles like "8 Reasons He's Not Talking To You", and "17 Ways To Feel Better About Yourself", "Why Jennifer Lawrence Is Actually Ugly". 

I'm 20 years old, and I'm still very self-conscious. I predict that for most of my adult life I will remain self-conscious because hormones like to kick you in the head for no reason. I'm thankful the internet is there to help me get input about a problem, and I'm thankful that there are people out there who have been through the same problem when I thought I was the only one who would Google something like "best way to put on deodorant without getting it on your clothes" and will give feedback about how to solve it.

 We live in an age of immediate answers through 2-Dimensional devices because taking the time to seek answers in ourselves through actual life experience is slow, and often unbearably lonely. Why do that when everything is accessible at the click of a mouse? But these articles are popping up everywhere, and I hate feeling as though I need to be told on a daily basis what is wrong with me and other women and how to fix it, mainly because I still feel the need to find out.

The human species has the ability to form strong opinions and voice them, which separates us from other animals. It's a very special thing, I'm aware of that, and I really do like reading original writings created by people my age. 

But just to get things off my chest, article binging is real, my eyes hurt, and quite frankly I'm not getting anything done. The irony is that in writing this I am contributing yet another article to this cesspool. 

Anything Can Happen

I was walking out of the subway, up the steps and into Union Square. It was 6:15 PM. Class was at 6:30 and the train had been slower than normal, not that normal makes much of a difference. The N Train seems to be notorious for its speed, or lack thereof should I say. In addition to that, the worst traffic comes down to maneuvering around the people on the streets (dada-dee-da-day) and today was Wednesday, which meant the Farmers Market was there. Every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday the Union Square Farmers Market sets up shop and gets flooded with browsers, all clumped together in groups of threes and fours, sampling apples on toothpicks and moving together  at a sloth-like pace. 
I wasn't angry about it or anything, you really can't be angry.  I'm a big fan of farmers markets myself, and a New York crowd is a New York crowd. But it's frustrating when you are trying to get somewhere, like when you're driving and you can't seem to catch a green light for the love of all that is good.
So I'm walking with my headphones plugged into my ears,  I don't even remember what song was playing. I think maybe it was 'Funny You Should Ask' by The Front Bottoms because I was walking along to the beat of something with a fast rhythm, and also because it's one of the top songs I listen to. Not that I have much of a choice in what I listen to nowadays; my iPhone is pretty screwed up, it only plays a handful of songs even though I've got like 600 in there, and when the song is finished playing it will repeat even though I don't have the repeat setting on. Somehow I haven't gotten tired of this limited selection, which also includes the entire soundtrack to The Last Five Years and Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World, but the day that I do will come eventually. I open up Pandora or 8Tracks, or even YouTube to listen to something different, but those require cell-phone service which they have not yet made possible for all New York City subway trains to have while they are underground. So I am forced to pick and choose the moments when I really feel that it requires music specifically from my library, and being in a hurry like this, I knew I didn't have time to choose from some app. The steadiness of the drums and constantly switching power chords on the electric guitar act as a flame under my butt to keep me moving fast. 
The funny thing is, I knew that I probably wasn't going to be late. And even if I had been late this wasn't like school where they locked the doors right when the clock hit the time the class was scheduled to start. We weren't being graded, and this wasn't a lesson on punctuality. This was an adult class, for adult actors who wanted to improve their craft, and sometimes adults have to be late, so they come in late and they don't need an excuse for doing so. Adult or not, I still wanted to make a good impression, and I like showing up early because it means that there is a greater possibility I will get to see my old teachers walking through the lobby, even if it is a brief hello, hug, and how are you?' The Three H's, I should call them.
I'm on autopilot. A subconscious drill sergeant is giving me commands. "Walk fast, get to class, walk fast, get to class!" and my legs are trying to keep up when suddenly some young guy who looks like he came up from behind walks ahead of me and stops dead in his tracks, throwing me off guard. Not only is he standing still, but he is facing me, looking like he's trying to tell me something, offically breaking my concentration. His lips are moving but I can't hear what he's saying because of the music. "For Pete's sake", I think to myself, "how desperate are these people to try and corral you into whatever organization they are working for that they will jump right in front of you?" His lips were still moving, so I took off my headphones to politely tell him "No, thank you" and dodge that guilt-trip as soon as possible. It sounds bad, but when you live in this city sometimes you have to keep your head down and worry about yourself. But he wasn't trying to tell me about some organization he was working for. He was telling me that he saw me coming out of the Subway (or did he say he was on the train with me and saw me back there?), and that he "just had to say hi". And that he thought I was very pretty. I said the first thing that came to my mind which was "I have a class I have to get to, I'm so sorry". Like I said, I was a robot.  Walk fast, get to class. He said "Well what time do you get off, maybe we can hang out or something. Maybe you could show me how to dye my hair that red color". I laughed, flattered, and politely apologized once more that I had a class I needed to get to. He didn't heckle me, or hound me about it. He just blinked and sweetly said with a smile, "Alright, take care", and walked away. 
I kept moving forward, continuing on with my mission, and as I did the realization of what had just happened began to sink in more and more. Someone just told me they thought I was pretty. Now being told you are pretty is always nice, but it was way more than just that. I was unaware of my surroundings and I wasn't trying to act a certain way, just doing what I had to do, and a stranger saw me from a distance and went out of his way just to say "Hi." I mean, isn't that something? Isn't that what most of us have always dreamt of happening?  In book stores while perusing the shelves, or sitting in the park, or on the train sneaking glances at a person at the opposite end of the car and secretly hoping they are sneaking glances at you too? I thought about all of this as I made my way up Broadway, and I immediately wished I could go back and handle the situation differently. I wished I had stopped to really listen to him for a few seconds. I wished I hadn't taken the moment for granted, and most of all I wished that I had gotten to tell him "Even though my heart is taken, I really commend you for putting yourself out there because what you did takes a lot of guts. It's something more men, and women for that matter need to do more often. Thank you for making my day." 
On the other hand he could have been some player-creep lurking around to hit on random girls. Whatever he was, I crossed the street on 5th Avenue feeling a little taller, and with what felt like a newfound knowledge that anything really can happen.

tales from the city: Rob Sheffield on music and girls

If you're anything like me, music is an essential factor in your life. You don't travel anywhere without a set of headphones, you freak out if you can't find said headphones, and whether you're walking down Sixth Avenue or aimlessly gazing out the window of any moving vehicle, forget the people staring at you, you are lip-syncing to that song like nobody's business and pretending you are in your own music video. Lastly, if you're anything like me, you are completely consumed with the beauty of love.

Cue Rob Sheffield, a music writer for Rolling Stone and the author of the memoir and New York Time's Bestseller Love is a Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time, a true story about the relationship between him and first wife Reneé during the 90's, their passion for music, and the memories of her that surround all of the lingering mix-tapes they made for each other before her sudden death. I'm almost positive it will be made into a movie someday, it's an inspiring, real-life love story. In his second book Talking to Girls About Duran Duran, Sheffield writes of his teen years and how certain songs of the 80s helped him enter adolescence and to better understand girls and their John Hughes-like teenage fantasies.
His most recent book Turn Around Bright Eyes picks up where Love is a Mixtape left off. Rob, now a widower who has just moved to Greenpoint Brooklyn, learns how to move on with another facet of music in his discovery of two things: karaoke, and his current wife and love, Ally. He writes:

 "Why do I get so obsessive about karaoke? Two reasons, which I'm pretty sure are the only reasons to get obsessed with anything. 

1. Music

2. Girls

What else in life is there to obsess about? There be music, and there be girls. Everything else is paste."

Rob Sheffield is truly a romantic, and is considered a 'music writer' rather than a 'music critic' since he praises more than he frowns upon. I found this out when I went to go see him speak about Turn Around Bright Eyes at the Strand Bookstore by Union Square last night! 

I had to buy the book to get in, but I was planning on buying it anyway!

Good crowd!

The man of the hour: Rob Sheffield! 

It's always scary going into these things, meeting a person whose voice and personality have only been made by your imagination until this point, and you wonder if they'll live up to those expectations. Well, he definitely did, and I shouldn't have had any doubt. Afterwards I waited for him to sign my copies of Turn Around and Talking to Girls About Duran Duran. I wish I'd had my copy of Love is a Mixtape with me too, but it's home in Florida. I was more nervous than I thought I'd be, because he wasn't one of those people who just signs the book really fast and calls the next person. He was having long conversations with everyone! Everyone was either a writer, or a musician, and while I may be both of these things I had no idea what to say. Thankfully when I stepped up to the table, he looked at the constellation shirt I was wearing and said "Oh my God, what constellation is that?" 

I said, "Oh, it's a bunch of them! Look, there's Orion!" 

"My wife would love that, she's an astrophysicist!" 

He then asked me if I like karaoke, and I said yes because I like to sing, and that my usual go-to karaoke jam was Tony Basil's 'Mickey'. 

"Ooh, that's a GOOD one!" he said.

 I felt so much more at ease. He signed both of my books! One saying "Thanks Erin!" and the other saying "You're the best!" What a nice guy!

Happy Tuesday!

just another day: The Rosendale Street Festival

Hey guys! My apologies for the lack of posting. I've been so busy lately with separate projects, work, and trying to enjoy life in general away from the Internet! And it's been amazing. Ali and I filmed our second episode of As Seen On TV along with our good friends Drew Malino & Paul Davis Griffin, and Daniel Pascale. You can watch it here!!

Yesterday something happened that I'm positive I will never forget for the rest of my life given I don't get amnesia. There is a town here in upstate New York called Rosendale; a small, sweet street right that lies underneath a nearby bridge of railroad tracks. Every summer they have a festival with food vendors, craft tables, homemade goods for sale, and six small stages featuring 72 musical performers in two days. I've been wanting to go for years and years and years, and somehow there was always something that kept me from being able to. BUT NO MORE, I SAY! 'Cause Dad had a rental car! So my cousin Paige and I went to check it out for a few hours. 

I swear, it was fate that I went this year, on that day, at that time. Right as we walk in, a girl on one of the stages is playing a song I know by one of my favorite artists, Amber Rubarth. I thought "How cool, someone is covering this song!" Then she started to sing... 

And it WAS her! 

I couldn't believe it! I apologized to Paige knowing we were about to sit in the hot hot sun for a while, but I had to stay in case she played my favorite song, only because it's a very special song to me for very personal reasons and the whole thing was just too uncanny! So we sit on the grass, and even though she was singing other songs I knew and loved and mouthed the words to, after 40 minutes in she still hadn't played that one song yet. I couldn't leave without hearing that song. I said to Paige, "Maybe I should just call it out, and hope she plays it?" As if she had known I was waiting, she announces to the audience (although I'm pretty sure she was looking directly at me), "I have time for two more songs. Is there anyone who wanted to hear anything specific?" 

"YOU WILL LOVE THIS SONG", I called out, with a classy composure and grace. 

"Wow! I haven't played that one in a long time... Okay, so this is a song I wrote for a guy who I knew everything about. So I put everything I knew he loved in this one song, hoping it would make him come back to me... It didn't work. It's called "You Will Love This Song". 

I don't think I can explain how much meaning I have placed into this song that I've listened to for five years now (thanks , MySpace days), but if you'd like to give it a listen, you can do so here... Just know it's one of my little secret gems that came to me at a very important time in my life. I don't tell many people about, but I've decided I'm going to share it with you. 
After she performed I walked up to her and she shook my hand and said "Thanks for coming! I'm Amber." I said "I know!" I asked her for a picture and told her how special her songs are. We talked for a little bit about how she lived in Brooklyn for a while before she moved up here... I'm still feeling the shock of all of this. 

Paige and I continued to walk around for a little, soaking in the beauty of the town and the people. 

We saw a henna tattoo booth and decided to go for it! Another first for me! Betcha can't guess which arm is mine... (Psst! The pasty white one on the left!)

Right before we left, we walked along the bridge and gazed out at the gorgeous view. 

Henna update! I don't think I'll ever get a tattoo, but I'm really enjoying the pretty design, and it makes me a little sad it's only temporary. I'll have to get one again sometime!

Happy Monday!

Iiving the dream: the time I tried standup comedy

Last night was a HUGE first for me. I could make a virgin joke right now, but I'm not going to.

For the first time I tried my hand at standup comedy. All week I've been making notes, writing, writing, listening to comedians on Pandora, writing, watching standup specials on Netflix, and then writing some more. I'm not kidding when I say that standup comedy was consuming every minute of my waking life. Even as I tried falling asleep, my mind would wander off and explore some topic, finding something humorous about it until I thought "OH THAT'S GOOD" and causing me to pop up every five minutes to write it down before I forgot, because even if you think it's so funny there's no way you could forget it, well, often times you do. I'd keep doing this throughout the night, next thing I know it's 4 in the morning, I'm getting no sleep, and my abs are suddenly cut and defined from all the sitting up (I wish). 

It all started about a month ago when my friend Daniel showed me his new business card. It said: ACTOR, WRITER, COMEDIAN... 

I said, "Wow! You're a comedian Daniel?"

He said, "No, but I figure this will give me a reason to start!"

Then Ali told me she was going to give it a go as well, and maybe even try it out at  a comedy club. Never in my life have I ever considered standup as a possibility. I thought, Well... Maybe I should try too. Why not? It's a challenge!

I loved the process, and I could see jokes working as I practiced with a microphone (remote) in my private studio (bedroom). Whenever I got stuck, I put on comedians that inspired me: Brian Regan, George Carlin, Mike Birbiglia, John Mulaney, Demetri Martin, and, of course, Ellen. 

Ali and I planned on doing the 5-minute open mic on Wednesday at the New York Comedy Club. I was hesitant in reserving my place, worrying about my set. No! It's not ready! But how would I know unless I tried? So I wrote the e-mail to Brian Roth, one of the guys who runs the show requesting a spot, closed my eyes, and quickly hit "Send". There! Now I have to no matter what! See, Erin? That wasn't so bad!

  (What have I done???)

The audience was made up of maybe 15 people or so, all of who were either a friend of mine and Ali's, or a fellow comedian going up on the mic. It's a good place to try out what works and what doesn't when you're you eventually cover a bigger/more crowded venue. With all the other comedians, it kind of felt like a standup jam sesh (joke sesh?), like we were all just listening to each others stuff. I enjoyed every one of them in some way for various reasons. It was funny, they kept commenting on how young we were since everyone appeared to be at least 26 and up. I wish I had taken photos... I can't believe I didn't take any! That's so unlike me! But I was nervous... I was shaking ever so slightly, I think I said "Uh" too much, and even after all that practice holding the mic-remote I completely forgot to take the microphone out of the stand! However, the pressure to be "funny" wasn't as present as I thought it would be, and once I got off the stage I was on such a high! Especially since the last time I performed anything on any kind of stage was the sketch comedy show at The Tank back in February.

Is it going to be my career? I can't say for sure. Would I do it again though? Absolutely! I got some laughs, and even if I hadn't I can always work on it and try again. Hey, another addition to the resumé, right? I figured I haven't written much about the reason I'm in this city in the first place, but I haven't been auditioning much. Come Fall, I promise to do this once I am really getting myself out there.

I have videos of both my set and Ali's, so I'll put them here once I can download them! I'm babysitting at the moment and writing this all on my phone. If you're at all interested in trying standup, check out Brian Roth's wonderfully informative blog at newyorkcomedy.wordpress.com! 

Happy Thursday!

tales from the city: She & Him Concert

If you know me, then you'll know that I have a deep admiration for Zooey Deschanel. And if you don't know me, well, I have a deep admiration for Zooey Deschanel. Okay, it's not really an admiration, more like a slight obsession. Okay, not really an obsession, let's just say I think it'd be really cool to be her best friend!

I want to be Zooey Deschanel. 

All creepiness aside, I am a huge fan of her work. New Girl is one of my favorite shows that never fails to make me laugh. I go on the site, HelloGiggles.com that she co-created almost every day (they have interesting articles and lots of pictures of nail designs that I can't do), and every interview I've watched, and believe you me I have watched a lot of interviews,  she just seems like an all-around pretty cool person. 500 Days of Summer, which is a beautiful movie by itself, came out at a very important time in my coming-of-age process, so Zooey became a sort of icon for me and I've looked up to her ever since.

Her talent extends even further into the writing and performing of music! She and indie/folk singer/songwriter M. Ward  teamed up and created the band She & Him. Their music is like a blend of 50's/60's/even 70's tunes, resembling classic bands such as The Beach Boys and Mamas and the Papas. I love their music, especially the fact that people are still writing songs with that melodic, retro sound.  A few months ago I saw that they would be coming to perform in New York at Rumsey Playfield in Central Park, and I knew I had to go! So I bought a ticket! I guess I wouldn't have minded going alone, but one day I realized that I had no one to go with. Then my friend Julia posted their song " Sweet Darlin' " on her Facebook, so I asked if she'd be interested, and that was it! 

Finally the day had come!

First of all... it was 98º. And I don't mean the band.  It was HOT. I loaded up on sunscreen and Julia and I wore light, summer dresses, as did most of the Zooey fans there.

Julia and I before the show! 

I have to say, there was a very, very small part of me that couldn't help but imagine in fear that people would judge me for my outfit, bangs, and blue eyes. 

"Oh, and look at this one. Pft, what a wannabe..."

I swear, I'm not actually trying to be her, that was a (half) joke! But everyone was super cool, and just all around excited to be there! They had this fake grass stuff that people were sitting on before the show started. 

Julia and I scoped out the area for seats... and found a nice spot next to a garbage can!

It didn't smell, and even provided some shade! Speaking of shades, how cool are Julia's?

Camera Obscura was the opening band for She & Him. They also have a sort of old school, Beach House feel, like all you want to do is sway back and forth wearing your boyfriend's letterman jacket while riding in a convertible down a highway in California.

Julia and I were in love with the lead singers voice! 

There were these signs posted everywhere. They were really making it a point to not use our phones during She & Him's show. I wanted to respect that so I took as many pictures and videos as I could before they came out. 

"At the request of She & Him" we ask that people do 

not use their cell phones to take pictures or video but instead 

enjoy the show they have put together in 3D!

By 8 o'clock, they had finally come out onstage! Zooey was wearing this short, black dress with sparkles all over. As the show went on, I thought it wouldn't hurt if I got at least one picture... 

... Or two...

I cheated a little. I couldn't help myself! How often will I be able to see Zooey Deschanel  in person, right in front of me? I needed crappy, low-quality pictures to remember this moment forever!! At least I wasn't like the guy in front of me, who was holding up his phone the entire show. I mean, I don't care if someone takes a few pictures here and there, a video or two... But the whole show? Now I really understand why they stressed the importance of enjoying the live performance. Viva la vida, people! 

Honestly though, none of that stuff really bothers me much. I would have been happy to have been there, standing in the back, with my eyes closed, as long as I could hear the music. We danced, we swayed, we sang along. For their encore they came out and did one of my favorites from the album, "Sunday Girl", and then they did Julia's favorite: "Sweet Darlin' ! "

She was so happy!

When the band left the stage for a second time, everyone started to walk away. Then Julia and I heard screaming, and suddenly everyone was running back. We were like, "What's going on?" They came out again, only this time it was just Zooey and M. Ward. For her last song, they did an amazing cover of the song "I Put a Spell On You", which you can listen to here!  hope to say I'll get to see them live again someday

Happy Monday!