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Jackie and I were invited to one of the Maria Doyle Kennedy house concerts in Seattle, and it was such a different experience than IAC or Hugh’s Room. Most of the night transcends words, but it feels strange not to write at least a little note, for posterity, so here are the highlights. 

Barefoot Hello. We went downstairs to scope out seats, and opted for a comfy couch near Maria’s bells. Just after we sat down, we recognised the purple and white floral frock from SDCC down the hall, and, of course, the woman wearing it. We waved, and Maria, barefoot, navigated through the other people downstairs, and greeted us with a warm “Hi, ladies!” and hugs. The heat was promptly complained about because it’s hella hot in Seattle this summer and no one here is prepared for it - “I’m roasting! Jeepers!” As we talked, Maria made eye contact with my mam who had been talking to another guest. “Hi, I’m Maria.” “Oh, this is my mam.” “Oohh, heeelloooo!! Lovely to meetya! Aww!” To “get some work out of [us]”, Maria asked us to help CDs during the break, so we went upstairs to sort that out. 

Bead of sweat. While we were snacking on the delicious treats everyone brought, we ran into Kieran and talked about their road trip up. My mam, the beautiful social butterfly she is, proceeded to talk about the bead of sweat dripping all the way done her back to, well, lower… What a gem. (Please don’t kill me, mam! - blame the heat - we were all going a bit bonkers)

Stuck. I definitely peeped at the set list before the gig began, so I was confused when I didn’t recognise the first few notes of Hola Luna which was supposed to be the second song, and even more confused when Kieran glanced in our direction and gave us a wink. And then… *chorus on angels* STUCK. It is absurd to think about how this is probably her most well known song after it was performed on OB (and I stg I don’t mean to be a stuck-up hipster about it) because it’s always been my default favourite (only when forced to choose), and it’s kind of the reason I first got in contact with them. I’ve been dying to hear it live, and I… UGH. WORDS?! To me, the song has an oceanic quality - waves continuously ebbing and flowing, the struggle to “get up” or swim to shore, but constantly being tossed back by the currents and “torn asunder.”   Maria did a different tempo/inflection on “We are knuckled down, buckled under, fucked around, and passed over” that echoed that pushing against water and coming up for air. It was stunning. After the song Maria said, “That one was especially for Shawna and Jackie - I know they love it.” *pinch me* 

Pride. As Maria introduced one of the songs from the next album, Pride, she talked about Ireland’s marriage referendum and how the entire country voted yes except for this tiny county in the center “where [her] mammy’s from.” *cue audience laugh and sympathetic “Aww”*

Please Don’t Leave the Bar. Maria mentioned that the titles of the songs for the new album are hilarious and singled out, Please Don’t Leave the Bar, and sang a few lines from it. Kieran piped in with his two favourite funny titles for songs: “Pottymouth” and “Kissing Cousins.” Maria: “I don’t have a song called ‘Pottymouth’ and neither do you …and we never will have.” 

Swankypants Seattle. MDK and KK played gigs in Queen Anne: “Swankypants,” Carkeek Park: “Also pretty swankypants.” and Bellevue: “Also really swankypants.” “Except how the fucking hell do you get around?! It’s the worst traffic EVVAHHH. It’s horrible! ‘It’s HORRible!’ That’s my best Seattle accent. ‘It’s horrible.’” Someone in the audience innocently asked, “How do we say it?” “‘HORRible.’ We say, HARRible.”

Under the stars. The house concert moved to the backyard for Act II. Most people brought their chairs out, and Jackie and I ended up on a blanket just in front of Maria and Kieran. They always sound incredible, but it was such a treat to hear just the two of them with Kieran’s guitar under the stars. “Going Home” and “Sinners Like You and Me” were gorgeous. 

Twelve White Horses. Maria’s favourite song Kieran’s ever written. She pointed out that there’s the line in the middle of the song: “Where does the northern wind come from?” When they were recording it again recently, Kieran was like “What a fucking stupid line… Like, from the North, obviously!” However, Maria thought it was brilliant line about creation and the big bang, “Like where does the northern wind come form? where does anything come from?!” And she’s had luck with persuading him of her existential interpretation. ”Boom. Results.”

At Last. One of the last songs they played inside was a cover of Etta James’s At Last. They learned it for the wedding of a friend who was getting married for the first time at over 50. She had heard this song on the radio one day and thought it might be too corny. Maria disagreed. “Are you fucking kidding me?! It’s like the most beautiful song EVER written. And it’s called At Last. And it’s like ‘At last my love has come.’ And I was like, chicken. You’re over fifty. You’re getting married. It’s the most perfect song. In the World. Of All. At a wedding.” And MDK and KK’s rendition is so simple and sweet and stunning - buhhhhh! 

Post-gig glow. After the gig, we were able to just hang out and talk. I think this is where the difference between a gig and a house concert is most prevalent. When the music’s playing, it doesn’t really matter where you are- you’re all plugged in and transported to the same plane. It’s the energy and space book-ending the music that’s different. Gigs are teeming with loud and exciting energy, while this house concert felt so much more home-y (go figure). It was still incredibly exciting, but everything was in bathed in an ease and calmness. To be honest, it felt (and still feels) like a dream.

P.S. I made these. 

ladymalchav replied to your post: I FEEL SO ALONE IN MY SPOOKS LIVEBLOGGING NO ONE…

que es?

pushthequorumbutton replied to your post: I FEEL SO ALONE IN MY SPOOKS LIVEBLOGGING NO ONE…

i felt the exact same way when i watched although i started with s7 (every single post you made i agreed with i just didn’t want to like them all b/c that would be creepy)

@Tricia 
a) I DON’T SPEAK SPANISH
b) but I’m guessing that means what is it so I’m telling you anyway. Spooks (aka MI-5 in the USA) is a spy show. It’s kind of like the BBC version of 24? but way better and they fucking kill everyone ever. Also it started in 2002 so the cell phones for the first 3 or 4 seasons are HYSTERICAL

@Kat 
DO YOU THINK I MAKE THESE POSTS FOR FUN I DON’T MAKE THEM TO SIT THERE UNRESPONDED TO, H O N E S T L Y

i mean no pressure or anything but I would actually love if you like my lb posts i am js

MY BABY IS HAVING HER BABIES

AND I’M NOT THERE

Originally posted by amoodymess

and calling my mother for an update was poorly thought out

she’s already emotionally volatile from current events as it is, she was crying by the time i got to her

“what’s wrong?? is audrey okay? how are the babies?”

“she’s fine….i don’t know….it seems like the labor is taking a while…”

“well when did she start?”

“about 40 minutes ago….”

MOM

PLS

June Writing Challenge

3rd Place: AccioCheesecake

Screams of pain, hunched over bodies, hollow cheeks. This is what surrounds me as I march to work. It is of no consequence to me. Death and pain are only weaknesses of the human race. What is important about today is that I finish designing the new building by 4:05. According to my calculations, I will finish the task at 3:48, and my supervisor will then provide me with a new task. I am serving my purpose for the company.

A woman blocks my path, desperately begging me for food. Her child is watching from a short distance away. I shake my head, using the common human gesture for disagreement. Robots don’t need food, and therefore we donâ€t carry it with us. The human obviously does not understand this.

I try to step around the woman, but she grabs my arm to stop me. “Please,” she begs. “My son is dying! Please help us!“
This is taking up too much time, and she is delaying me from getting to work. “That is not my concern,” I say, and I watch as her demeanour shifts.

Finally, she moves out of the way and I am able to get to work. My delayed time of arrival means that I will now finish at 3:51. I will still finish on time. That is all that matters today. I sign into the building and go to my cubicle. Then I log onto my device and get to work.

I finish at 3:51 exactly. The supervisor heads over to my station.
“Good work,“ he says. “That’s it for today, you may head home now.”
I don’t understand why he isn’t assigning me more work. It seems very inefficient. Then again, the supervisor is a human. They are susceptible to mistakes and inefficiency.

Screams of pain, hunched over bodies, hollow cheeks. This is what surrounds me as I march home. It is the same everyday. It doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is that I get my work done. This is the way of the Robots.

me: decides to lose weight while eating chocolate and contemplating breast augmentation

i am a true suburban woman, someone make me the star of a desperate housewives spin-off

Equal Parts of Contradiction

Do you know who I am? I am detail-oriented and organized, but the owner of a messy apartment and even messier teacher’s desk. I love the feel of the wind and peace of the surrounding trees, but at times crave the solace of four walls. I am a low-maintenance girl, enjoying the simple pleasures in life, but with a shopping addiction. I am beer around a bonfire, as well as wine on the beach. I am laid-back and live-in-the-moment crashing with high-strung and must-have-a-plan. I am compassionate, kind, and big-hearted, but ruthless if you hurt the ones I love. I am deep and passionate and emotional, but I’m silly and often make jokes when situations get too serious. I’m stubborn, but willing and apologetic. I am a strong, independent woman excelling in this life alone, yet desperately searching for someone to call my other half. I’m unbelievably rational and understanding, except the rare moments when well, I’m not. I am classy and sophisticated with tattoos and a mouth that curses. I am both a girly-girl and a tom-boy. I’m a lover of Jesus who doesn’t believe in black and white. I’m a night out on the town and a night under the stars. I am a couch-layer and an activity-doer, a reader and a writer, a conversationalist and a listener. I am complicated, but oh so simple at the same time. So now that you know who I am, do you think you can love both sides?