B.O.H.I.C.A.

Friday the Thirteenth

The moon and sun have aligned with Mercury in an attempt to undermine my music-seeking pursuits on this unluckiest of days. Disappointment strikes from all angles like so much lightning from the hand of Antirocus, the God of Keeping Kristin From Shows.

My horoscope says:

You will face many disappointments today in the world of concerts, including unavailable tickets, exorbitant fees, and being stranded on the edge of Boston Harbor forever because you haven't figured out how to drive and read a map simultaneously.

It seems Antirocus is fucking with me this week, and I'm left stamping my feet, squealing defiantly, and shaking little fists at the sky for three valid reasons.

• 1. Ani DiFranco sold out. In 30 seconds. Before I could get tickets.

• 2. Bright Eyes did not sell out, probably because the "convenience" charge doubled the price of the ticket. Come on, people -- seriously now. What seemed like a twelve-dollar treat turned into pure BOHICA* once Tickemaster pulled out. Who lets them get away with this rape? Really?

Bitch, bitch, bitch.

Wait -- I got one more.

• 3. My favorite band in the world**-- Jump, Little Children -- is playing in November in New York City and I can't go. Despite bribes, begging, black magic, offers to pay for crack and whores, and subconscious hypnosis, I have been unable to convince anyone else that they need to go to this show as much as I do. Judging by my bad luck, poor sight, and inability to drive from Boston to Cambridge without getting lost, I should not attempt the journey alone.

The whole concert world sucks today. I'm feeling pouty, bratty, and let down.

I'm going to spend the night in my darkroom snorting chemicals and maybe emerge with some decent negatives. Or maybe I'll spend the night in the dark snorting chemicals and develop my film tomorrow.

_____________________________________

*I'm not sure if this is an acronym recognized anywhere outside the world of Mighty Purple. It may be something drummer Wil Mix made up: "Bend Over -- Here It Comes Again." Appropriate for those who continually get screwed by the same thing. It was also the name of their second album. A handy phrase -- especially when you're trying to go see a band you like and can't get tickets.