90's Rewind Part Three: Smashing Pumpkins

So, I am sitting in mon apartement with a nice glass of wine, peering anxiously at my popcorn-littered floor. See, I had my second annual Fireworks Party on Saturday and - judging from the mess - it, like the first one you may remember here, was a success. And like last time, I have waited a good few days to clean it. Meh. So I have a few bugs crawling around on my floor. If I keep the popcorn there long enough, they might eat it all up and I won't have to vacuum.



Party Time - J-School girls reunited (and it feels so good)


The Rockstar, Austen, Lauren and Work Dude


Fireworks over Vancouver


Nothing like Jaeger, straight out of the bottle


so much silliness (or booze?)


My scary-ass elevator ate Robyn!


No wonder she looks a bit traumatized here

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So anyway, what I was trying to say was that I am sitting here with a nice glass of cheap-ass wine, staring at my grubby floor AND listening to the new Smashing Pumpkins CD. Phew, took me a long time to get to that point, didn't it?

It's interesting though, how I've sorta come full circle after all these years. I know I was recently talking how I feel like I am back in the 90's...starting with all the Smashing Pumpkins playing on Sirius's 90's Alternative Channel (speaking of, they really should start paying me for freakin' plugging it all the time). Then I find myself getting tickets to the Pumpkins in September. And then my bf lends me the new Smashing Pumpkins CD and as I sit here and listen to it, I can't help but think how much it rocks (song 4 is especially good)...and how much it reminds me 1996. In a really good way.

Such as the last time I went to a Smashing Pumpkins concert....

The ticket above was my way into the Melancholy Tour. They were playing in Seattle, so my friend and I had convinced my mother to drive us all the way down there for the night just so my 14-year old ass could attend.

However, we were not just ordinary fans. We were nutjobs. We researched which hotel the Pumpkins liked to stay in. We were in full-on groupie mode.

So I begged my mom to let us stay at The Four Seasons. Best thing ever.

The minute we walked in the place, a tall bald man in black and a woman with black hair walked out. I wasn't really paying attention to them but when my mother (embarassingly) asked the doorman whether the band was staying here or not, he just pointed past us, at the goth-looking couple walking down the street and said, "That's Billy Corgan and Courtney Love right there."

Well, our jaws dropped and we raced up to our rooms, threw our stuff on the bed and demanded that we peruse the streets of downtown Seattle...you know, to pick up our tickets from the box office...not to...stalk...a certain someone.

My mother obliged (she knew what was good for her) and off we went.

We didn't see them.

But we did see that some crazy people had already started lining up for the concert. Even though it was 4 hours away. Well, not to be outdone (and not willing to have a crappy spot in the theatre) I suggested we do it too.

My mother wasn't having any of it. She thought it was silly to leave us alone on a cold, dreary downtown Seattle street. I thought she was silly for missing my point. That's how 14-year old logic works. Like clockwork.

So, about a block away from the theatre, I stop and decide to have an outright hissy fit.

I'm yelling and I'm pleading at my mom, shaking in my cargo pants and doc martins, while my friend is standing to the side and looking uncomfortable.

She's also hissing: "Shhhhh. Shut up. Shut up now. Shut up now. OMG, shut up!"

I ignore her and continue to spazz in public until she elbows me in the side just as two people walk past us.

A tall bald man and a woman with black hair.

I shut up in mid-sentence and turn to watch them go and GET THIS:

BILLY FREAKIN' CORGAN actually looks over his shoulder at me and LAUGHS.

He freakin' laughs at me. Laughs! At ME! Courtney Love looked fairly amused too (though it was hard to tell with her harsh black hair and her collagen snarl). But DAMN, if that's not something, I don't know what is.

I made a fool of myself in front of my beloved Billy Corgan. My purpose on this planet was complete.

Well that was enough to satisfy me, so we went back to the hotel (more like floated back to the hotel) and then got ready for the concert.

We got there a little early which was good and were happy to see how small the theatre was...it's capacity was only about 2000. If anyone has seen Pearl Jam's Evenflow (or at least I think it was Evenflow...maybe Alive) video where Vedder is hanging off of the balcony, that's the same Moore Theatre.

So even though it would mean standing for an hour, we toughed it out and stood right by the stage until they came on.

Best thing ever.

First of all, Courtney Love was up in the side balcony in a private box, which I thought was pretty cool. She didn't recognize me though. Damn.

Second of all, after all the pushing and shoving from the crowd, we actually ended up at the VERY front, with the railing pushing into our stomachs.

Third of all, they played for about 30 minutes IN THEIR PAJAMAS! Just sitting on stools and playing unplugged to the crowd. And they were honestly just feet away from me. It was.... scrumtrulescent.

After the amazing show (in which, btw, some idiot tried to reanact the Evenflow video and hung from the balcony and fell into the crowd. Corgan was not amused), we raced back to the hotel to see if we could catch the band coming back for the night. We parked ourselves in the lobby, settled in comfy chairs, and waited.

Eventually, Darcy came in. We got all squealy when we saw her and were about to approach her with our pen and paper for an autograph, but she left....and the concierge got suspiscious.

He asked what we were doing here and if we were here to bother the band. We feigned disinterest and convinced him that we were merely waiting for my mom to come out of the bar, which was just around the corner and which loud laughs were constantly coming out of.

After awhile of sitting there though, one of the laughs actually started to sound familiar. Being the big fans we are, we soon deduced that it was the honking laugh of the usually drunk drummer, Jimmy Chamberlain (we were also fans of the SP video Vieuphoria).

Excited at our new discovery, we sat around until we saw Jimmy stumble from around the corner and out of the bar. This was our chance!

We sprinted to the elevator and cut him off at the pass.

Jimmy seemed a bit surprised, but he was very nice and obliging. And drunk. And hiccupping. And didn't even mind when he missed his elevator.

So he signed it, asked if he could keep the pen, got in the next elevator and dissappeared.

Why did he take our pen?

Anyhoo, it didn't matter. We had his autograph, he had my pen and all was right with the world.