I spent yesterday acing my film final, then sheet-rocking the band room ceiling with Johnny. Then, later last night, we went to Berbati's to see The National and Menomena. Mo stayed home to sleep.
I have to say that The National started off pretty boring and slow, but halfway through their set, they woke up and finally started rocking. My main problem with them is that their drummer didn't seem to be aware of the ride cymbal, and when he did spy that cymbal over there, he tapped it very lightly, like he was afraid of causing a fuss. The thing is, though, their supposed to be a freaking rock band, so I was hoping to get my ass kicked, but instead it was gently massaged.
Menomena, on the other hand, knows how to rock and roll. Danny smacks those drums with Thor's hammer. He's a guy who's not afraid to bash away and get noisy, and I like it. Menomena played, like, 5 new songs and they were good and varied and the band doesn't sound like it's repeating itself.
So, I got home at 1:30, hopped into bed at 2 for a quick read before going to sleep, and Mo started acting up.
Her: Hey! What are you doing? Are you crazy? Are you out of your mind? I'm trying to sleep! I've been asleep since 12 and you just woke me up!
Me (whisper/shouting): Hey! Whatever! I need to read before I can fall asleep!
Her: Shut up! Rude! I need to wake up in 2 hours!
Me: Why the fudge would you need to wake up at 4 in the morning?
Me (shutting off the light): I'll get you back! Mark my words!
So today she suggested that I read in a different room before going to sleep; I suggested she get a blindfold.