Thursday, May 20, 2004

The Young Professionals and N.E.R.D. On Monday my housemates Hannah and Chimere announced that they were going to the N.E.R.D. concert at the Forum to try and get scalped tickets. If not, they were going to the after party at Honkytonks at 11pm (one of their friends was playing). They invited me, and I had a highly enjoyable poncing session in front of the mirror trying on outfits to the strains of two CDs I burnt on Sunday, Emergency Party Jams volumes 1 and 2.

I really wanted to wear my peacock green Supre minidress actually as a minidress instead of as a scrunched up long top, but I just couldn't feel comfortable because it sits really precariously just underneath my arse and rides up like a seasoned cowboy. So I wore my "Collingwood Boxing Club" t-shirt, pink ra-ra miniskirt, black tights and pink Converse hi-tops. My parents came over to deliver my desk, ushering in a brave new era of me doing work at home, and my mother just looked at my outfit and said "Oh Melissa!" like this is some teenage phase I'm going through. She also gazed in dismay at the squalor of my house (more on this later) - a memorable moment was her looking into Hannah's room, shaking her head and saying "How can they live like this?"

But in the end I didn't go. See, I spotted about 500ml of sour milk sitting next to the bin and thought to myself "Why didn't someone just pour that down the sink?" But when I poured it down the sink, I realised why - the goddamn sink is blocked! So I had to dilute the sinkful of lumpy old milk with water - I should add that when I'd removed the lid of the bottle, it hissed like a Coke - and then use a saucepan to scoop it all out and throw it on the garden.

When I was finished you can imagine I had sort of lost my momentum to go out. I looked in my mirror again and suddenly I looked really fat and frumpy and very unfit to be gazed upon by Pharrell, and I realised I was actually really tired and just couldn't be fucked going. So I went to bed. At an unidentified time in the middle of the night I heard Hannah and Chimere coming home raucously laughing and shrieking "Pharrell! Pharrell!" which honestly surprised me because I thought if anyone in Melbourne could pick him up then those two could.

Anyway, last night I got the full story. They'd gone to the Forum where there were all these scalpers asking $150 for tickets, which people were paying, but they didn't. So they waited til everyone else had gone inside and then approached the bouncer saying "Look, we don't have tickets, is there anything you can do?" He said that nine people had cancelled and their tickets were available at the box office. So they bought tickets for $70. When I heard this I was spewing. I can only imagine how much Gemma will be spewing when she hears this.

And the concert was awesome, although Chad Hugo wasn't there which disappointed me because musically speaking I think he's the engine of the whole thing. They played a lot of stuff from In Search Of... but Chimere and Hannah haven't heard Fly or Die so couldn't say how much they played off that. Apparently Pharrell was doing little monologues between each song, which I'm not sure if I would have appreciated. But apparently he was extremely beautiful, which I probably would have appreciated. And at one stage he took off his shirt and stood on the speakers, which both Hannah and Chimere appreciated.

Then they went to the after party where both of them managed to touch him. He left with what Chimere described as "some blonde who looked like she was about sixteen," and Chimere disgraced herself by running after him screaming "Pharrell! Pharrell!". She was probably still re-enacting this for Hannah when they got home, hence how I heard the screaming. I embarrass really easily and I am extremely vicariously embarrassed at their overt girly fandom, especially as they put the emphasis on the first syllable of Pharrell's name when you're meant to put it on the last syllable.

Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Site Meter