Mosh and Headbanging

Even though we are in crunch mode at work, doing our death march toward Alpha, I got off work at a decent-ish time. There was still light out, so I decided to try walking in Seward Park with *gasp* some kind of daylight. This first picture pretty much illustrates how the entire walk through Seward Park is. On one side, you have beautiful Lake Washington. On the other side you have the park forest that houses endless boogey monsters and crazy axe murderers. I comfort myself with these thoughts every time I walk here alone in the dark.
The downtown Seattle skyline looks quite a bit better with light...unlike the scaredy-shaky photo I took during one of my night walks. Seattle really is a beautiful place. I always partly torn with the urge to move away and feeling immense love for the place.

<--Exodus headbanging away! My neck currently hurts soooo bad from last night. Good metal will make you headbang. Headbanging will hurt your neck like a mother fucker.


Brian's band, Vulgarizer.-->
I told Brian today that he needs to be a better best friend and shape up. He needs to either have his band play more often so my neck gets used to all the exercise, or play with really shitty bands so that I wouldn't feel like moving a muscle...I can just sit around and drink Pabst all night.
Exodus was really damned good. A few of my coworkers went, some to support Brian, some to see Exodus. They all got blasted and started moshing.
What is "moshing"?
It's how crazy people dance to death metal music. It's really not dancing at all so much as thrashing around in this little circle bumping into each other. The people on the edge of the mosh pit helps to push moshers back into the circle when they thrash outside of it. I see moshing as a gauge to how drunk I am. When I start to think moshing seems like a good idea, I'm drunk.
Really people thrash and bump into everything and everyone in the pit. I'm five foot nothing, which means, in the pit I'm exactly elbow height for most dudes. Getting elbowed and such isn't so bad when you're drunk, but you can't stay drunk forever.
This morning when I got to work, I went to get some painkillers for my neck and I see my buddy Dan getting some ice for his fingers. Apparently he jammed them in the pit. Then I see my buddy Jason with a slight bump above one of his eyes.
Jason got off lightly...last night while I was headbanging near the stage, I looked up and saw my coworker's husband, Cameron...dude had a nasty gash above his right eye...blood was still seeping from it. I asked him what happened, he said something about how one minute Jason kind of looked close to him...then closer, than bam...headbutt. It happens. Brian thinks he fractured one of his ribs. I poked at it, it feels yetchy.
Metal is still such strange music to me. I was a candy raver girl for a long time. That scene is so much more...pretty. You have a bunch of people all hopped up on a potpourri of drugs, dancing shirtless to techno music for hours. Neither scene really makes any sense when you talk about it. It all works out to girls finding adorable ways to look whorish. Good times.
Miguel Migs is spinning in town this Saturday, can't wait. I think of all the music types that I love, I seem to love house the most...especially the stuff that Migs spin live with Lisa Shaw singing on stage with him.