Sept 2nd, 2003

Philly Pho!!
Philly Pho!!

The first night out we played an open mic at The Point in Bryn Mawr. One of the highest calibre open mics I’ve ever been to. Much more laid back music than I was used to – we were like setting off a bomb in an eel tank. You know, except it was students rather than eels. The host – Leigh – was fantastic, dry sarcastic wit, reminded me of an aged Pat Klink crossed with Riverdale’s host, JD. We went over really well, and Leigh promised to help us out where he could. Also got approached about being an opening act at McGilliduddy’s (or something like that) on Saturday night. Sold 6 of the ilyAIMY AMD CDs. It’s not much, but it got us the singles we needed to ride the trolley system the next day. A lot of new mailing list friends (urg – mailing list, haven’t even thought about that) – Anywho, got lost on the way to Shane’s, and Heather was practicing her stick shift… I almost am completely confident that she’s good to do the trafficky day driving – one more home coming late at night, and methinks she gets to take over the driving.

Sept 4th, 2003

Morning comes, Heather snores. I’ve been at it for two hours and my Life is made Hell by SoBig and junk mail. I’m trying to figure out how to cut down on the number of worms arriving in my mailbox (like, about 30 an hour) and in the process have so far fucked up my email, deleted ilyaimy.com (twice), erased my on-disc back up. Sigh. It’s been a rough morning – but now things are running smoothly, printing shit all over the place, covering Shane’s room with mis-printed CD labels, generally making a mess and eating really stale pretzels.

Tonight we’re going to an open mic that required a very complex web form sign-up thingie. Intimidating indeed. At least we’ll know that anyone who’s there can reach our website.

Ok, enough of this, I’ve made a journal, and it might even work, though now I’m worried about stylesheets n shit. Sigh.

Heather in front of the Drexel Dragon.
Heather in front of the Drexel Dragon.
Presumably these are nicer than the male versions. We're SUCH fucking tourists. Heather also wants to start taking pictures of our audiences (a la Clandestine)... Oh my GOD the women in Philadelphia are SOOOO FINE!!! SO, yeah, we SHOULD take pictures of our audiences. For... material. You know?
Presumably these are nicer than the male versions. We’re SUCH fucking tourists. Heather also wants to start taking pictures of our audiences (a la Clandestine)… Oh my GOD the women in Philadelphia are SOOOO FINE!!! SO, yeah, we SHOULD take pictures of our audiences. For… material. You know?

<– Audience at the Point. Incredible open mic. Singing anime cellist, beautiful art – another guitarist with A CHEETAH CASE!!!, spectacular female pianist, cool sort of slap jazz harpist… great place.

Well, I must admit, I’m worried about what it all means. Last night’s open mic – we wandered about a mile through the underbelly of the gallery district of Philadelphia, only to find that the “Lionfish Arts Cafe” had been closed and remodeled into some sort of Italian restaurant.

Tonight, the spot we were GOING to hit had cancelled their open mic for the summer. So, we call about half a dozen places looking for an open mic that DOES exist. Find one in the Music Box – a music school in New Jersey. We drive over to that (GORGEOUS suspension bridge, lost in mist) spot only to discover that a) New Jersey really DOES smell as bad as they say, b) there is actually a posh section of New¬†Jersey, and c) the woman who said “why yes, Thursday’s open mic is on, it’s the best night of the week” was completely, and utterly misinformed.

There are no left turns or Uies allowed in the whole of the state. You have to drive OUT of the state to turn around and go back to where you came. Or they shoot you. We had eaten Philly Cheese Steaks in Philadelphia, so I tried to lick a Jersey Barrier in Jersey. Heather wouldn’t let me – and we had to have sushi instead.

Sigh.