Tonight I was lucky enough to see Inara George play at a little club in L.A. with K-girl and P-girl by my side. Inara and her band, which includes our supremely talented friend Joe on keyboards, put on a beautiful show. Ms. George is a pixie doll with copper pipes, all shiny and strong. Her voice reminds me of Jenny from Rilo Kiley. Both girls convey break-up pain in a Joan of Arc-meets-Kate Spade way that I dig in a big way.
In other news, I have a new downstairs neighbor. Based only the very particular way she directed the color scheme of her walls to be painted and the designery perfection of her welcome mat, I predict she is either a cool art chick or a high-maintenance daddy's girl. Here's hoping she's the former. Lord have mercy if she's a princess who will bruise at the pea that is my late night self. The floorboards in this old building announce my night-owlishness with gales of creaky squeals.
My fingers are crossed and my slippers are on.