June 12th - Maxwell and Jill Scott @ Philips Arena

Last night is the first time I ever attended a concert that actually made me tired. It wasn't that the concert was bad. In fact it was absolutely fabulous! It was awesome! It was the bomb and the grenade. Because it was all of these things, my little excited soul was completely worn out. Oh, all the excitement simply ravished me. I saw Maxwell and Jill Scott at Philips Arena and I promise if they ever decide to do another concert either together or separately, I will be there wearing my proverbial bells.

We began the night with drinks alongwith a fellow and newly-engaged couple at Sidebar. (Congrats DJ Underground and Sherita!) Despite the FIFA games going on, the bar was surprisingly empty save for a fews chicks taking shots, a drunk guy waving a really large and tattered American flag and an even drunker guy in a blue cap dancing in front of the jukebox in the corner. The blue-capped guy really took the cake. We imagined that he had suffered a recent heartbreak and needed the company of kindredly sloshed spirits to alleviate his pain while he danced rather haphazardly and shamelessly to Mariah Carey. Why do drunk people hug so much?

The flag guy kept pacing back and forth trying to rouse the crowd because of the U.S.'s World Cup tie with Britain. He even made sure to distribute high fives all around. I was more concerned with the state of that flag. One is not supposed to ever allow the colors to touch the floor. Nor should an American flag in disrepair be prominently displayed ...not even by a sot. Alas, since I'm not the flag police, I said nothing. I drank my cocktail, enjoyed my company and anticipated the fine show I was about to witness.

We walked over to Philips Arena from the bar in a crowd of fellow concert-goers. We admired the fashion sense and occasional lack thereof. Apparently, I did not receive the "wear the most uncomfortable yet attractive shoes you have in your closet" memo. I wore flat sandals so that nothing, NOTHING, could distract me from the sweet sounds I was about to hear. We got inside, made our way to our seats and sat down just as the lights went down.

First up was Jill Scott. Earlier in the evening, Babe requested that I put some tissue in my purse in case he needed to blow his nose. The tissue was actually for me. Jill Scott's performance was beautiful and heartfelt and authentic. I'd heard the lyrics to The Way many times before but after surviving a failed marriage only to reconnect with a long lost love who is my one somebody to love, I now really get it. Sure, I was a bit tipsy but I know I probably would have cried anyway. I laid my head on Babe's shoulder trying to keep snot from getting on his shirt while whispering how wonderful it is to be with him. Sigh. I gotta marry this guy...and stay with him for EVER.

Jill Scott entertained us for nearly two hours. When the lights went up for intermission, I felt I'd gotten my money's worth for the tickets already. Nevermind, sexy-ass Maxwell. After about 15 minutes of bathroom-visiting and drink-buying and chicken finger-purchasing by the crowd, Maxwell came on. He's such an energetic entertainer! He was quite flirtatious and all of us women in the crowd rewarded his efforts with a barrage of screaming. My throat is still pretty sore. All the guys who'd brought dates kind of sat there in confused contempt. On one hand, this dancing, singing mofo was causing their women to lust after him...HARD. On the other hand, his lyrical stylings would definitely result in some feverish lovemaking by the end of the night. All-in-all, the female fanaticism was a small price to pay for guaranteed bootay.

The funniest part of the show was when a woman sitting close to the stage threw a pair of bright yellow panties at Maxwell. Mid-song, he picked them up, sniffed them and then starting singing "sushi, sushi, sushi, sushi." That took me back to my panty-tossing days at a D'Angelo concert in L.A. Shame that brother is on heroin now. Maxwell closed his set after another two hours with Pretty Wings and I left in an utter state of tired-as-hell bliss. As we walked back to our car, I thought it was cute the way Jill Scott had taken her wig off and was hanging out of the window of her tour bus waving to the crowd with a plastic cup in her hand. I will never forget this night in Atlanta. Next concert is Talib Kweli and Hi-Tek!!!!

June 3rd - NetParty @ Whiskey Blue

Following this past Memorial Day Weekend, I should have had all kinds of sordid tales to recount. Alas, twas not so. When it wasn't raining, I was busy moving furniture and wading through crazed consumers at Ikea. The one party I did attend was not worth blabbing about. Needless to say and despite a rather hectic work week at my current job as an all-but-enslaved web content writer, I was anxious to attend some sort of affair. A fellow coworker advised that I stop by the upcoming NetParty. That's what's up. A networking party for young professionals at a ritzy venue with cocktail specials and music turned low enough to hold a decent conversation with people?!?! I'm at that.

So, I skated on up to the W in Buckhead, valeted and then took the private elevator to Whiskey Blue. Memories of networking events in Las Vegas came flooding back. Oh, sweet nostalgia. After checking in and proudly donning an OutPast30-scrawled name tag, I made my way to the bar. Do you know those mofo's charged me ten bucks for an off-brand glass of Riesling? That's not a drink special! That's rape! I found a place to sit where I perched and savored my wine at the rate of a dollar per sip. Bastards. Moving on. While I made the acquaintance of Paul of Dixon Hughes and Kimberly of BCM Federal Contracting LLC, I noticed how the crowd seemed to be locked tight around the bar to my right. To my left there was a sea of empty couches. Strange. In Las Vegas, I would have literally had to fight my way into a seat.

I went outside and met Eric of Ardyss International and we discussed the merits of marketing his up-and-coming novel as well as shirts that reduce the size of one's abdomen. Good times. After listening to another rather nervous guy go on about poor doctors only receiving five dollars per pap smear, I met Jake, male stripper, pictured left and then Robert who ran out of cards. Jake wasn't really a stripper but I thought it was clever of him to put that on his name tag. He actually represented In Topic Media.

After a while, I noticed it was hot as hell on the patio. When I went back indoors, it seemed the temperature was even hotter. I then made my way to a refuge I knew would be cool and comfortable...the ladies' room. There, I ran into Jacqueline of Kowa Pharmaceuticals, Francine the marketing executive and Lori of Bloom Designs. We discussed the sad state of the current job market for people coming from the marketing world as well as the Atlanta dating scene. Ladies, there are eligible bachelors here who are gainfully employed and want marriage. To locate one of these gems, one must simply take up a somewhat dorky hobby like karate for adults or automobile enthusiasm and attend a lesson or meeting. Single, home-owning men abound at these places.

In the restroom, I learned that, as per the hostess, the air conditioning at Whiskey Blue was in need of repair . WTF! I was outta there. They weren't going to get me for another ten dollar glass of anything. Plus, the "looking for a professional to screw" crowd was beginning to arrive. We all know the type. The men never seem to have business cards. The women clearly didn't come from the office because their skirts are ridiculously short and tight and their shoes are far too cute. The place was about to turn into a meat market. I went back down to the valet and begrudgingly paid another six dollars for my g.d. vehicle.

I have to say my feelings about the evening were mixed. While I exceeded my quota of contacts by three, I can't say I was very impressed by the venue especially with its Sahara-esque atmosphere. I did appreciate the nicely mixed crowd but I wasn't too keen on the whole "I'm here to fuck" vibe. Networking is for working the net not the hook up. Come on, Folks. I will go to another NetParty I'm sure as long as I come early and the event is not at Whiskey Blue.

May 21st - The Foreign Exchange @ The Masquerade

It had been raining cats and dogs earlier last week and I was fearful that we would miss seeing The Foreign Exchange perform at Friday's concert yet again. Last time, snow was the culprit. Although Bilal put on a great show, we'd ventured out in the elements to see The Foreign Exchange. What's so great about this friggin group? I'll tell you. The Foreign Exchange is a testament to the many ways that the internet can be used for good. It is a Neo Soul music group born out of the genius of the Okayplayer online community. Two artists, Phonte of North Carolina and Nicolay of Holland exchanged music and lyrics with each other over the course of a year. Through this overseas transfer, they put together their debut album before even meeting each other in person. Thus, when the rain cleared away, I and my lovin' man were no less than geeked to make our way down to the show.

We arrived at about 9:00pm expecting the group to take to the stage at around 10. Neither of us had ever been to The Masquerade and it looked pretty suspect. It resembled the kind of choice location to which a serial rapist would bring his hapless victims. However, when we got inside and got past the initial aromas of urine and marijuana, we found the upstairs concert hall to be pretty neat. It had a great deal of space, aptly placed bars and a stage that was easy to see from anywhere in the room. It's kind of like a more authentic House of Blues-ish dive bar with a grunge twist.

We scored a couple of drinks and then inched our way up to a pretty good position in front of the stage...apparently way too close to the speakers. As we waited for the act to begin, DJ Questions spun a generous mix of 90's underground Hip-Hop with some R&B. I decided not to belabor the state of Hip-Hop. Good music, no matter the genre, is where you find it. We all just need to be willing to look. The fact that this concert was taking place was proof enough.

The Foreign Exchange took to the stage and did not dissappoint. They played all of my favorites including Nic's Groove, Daykeeper and Take Off The Blues. Between songs, the comedy was killin' and they covered some semi-oldies. Using my new birthday gift courtesy of my boyfriend, Fuji Film's Finepix Z270, I was able to capture the pictures above and the video below. I love this camera. Totally blogworthy. I had no idea the camera would be so sensitive to sound so again, I will not stand directly in front of the speaker....ever. However, the picture quality (for a camera that cost under $150) was pretty cool. It was darker than a mofo in there.

As I walked out of the concert, content as all hell, I ran into this boldly dressed lady in the picture to the left. Apparently, The Masquerade offers two nights of cover-free dancing featuring trance, drum and bass and electronica music. As I've stated before, I'm really starting to get into techno and electronica. That and Brazilian music. Check this out. Anyhow, on the techno tip, I have some fishnets. I may just be at that, provided I can get the boyfriend to wear some ultra tight punk pants. Anyhow, until next time.