Welcome to the summer of solo adventures that shall never be repeated.
A lie that I told myself to get through one of the loneliest and darkest winters I have ever experienced, was that 2025 was going to be my year. I fully convinced myself (and anyone around me who would listen) that this is the year everything clicks into place, even making my first ever vision board and writing down manifestations to really toss the good vibes into the uni. A big piece of that “this is your year” momentum centered on a decision I made last fall, to spend a sizeable amount of money (my entire savings) to join a writing beach retreat in Greece. It was something that had come across my desk more than once, and I kept revisiting it, clearly stuck on the idea that I needed to push myself to not only do a solo trip, but to go to a place I’ve always wanted to go AND tie it into reaching new writing goals. So, with much encouragement (and a sliver of financial support from parents who will literally never rid themselves of their youngest child), I booked the trip and had something BIG to look forward to.
Also during this time of utter despair short freezing days, two of my favorite artists announced summer concerts in Asbury Park a week apart from each other. What’re the chances?! Natch, I had no one to go to either concert with. Forever on the fence about doing a concert alone, I decided to pull the trigger and make June of 2025, the month of doing things alone and scared. It was either going to be forever, or go down in flames as an up and coming musician once sang about men. And now that we’re safely in July, I can now publicly declare…FLAMES. It went down in flames.
Let’s start with the concerts. What has stopped me from ever going to a show alone before, you might ask? The dreaded in-between time. Concerts are typically annoying parking situations, perhaps a long walk to the venue, waiting in line, not actually knowing when the band goes onstage so you get a drink, buy merch, maybe eat a snack, and yap. Then of course, there’s the dead air between sets as they switch the stages. When you think about it, there’s several wasted hours during a show that you barely notice when you’re with friends just yuckin it up. When you’re alone? It feels like 84 years have passed since you arrived. Well wouldn’t you know, this very specific fear that I had was 1 billion percent true.
My first solo show was Russell Dickerson, and there’s a reason his headlining tour of 2022 was called the RD Party. Boy knows how to put on a banger of a show complete with ripping his shirt off at the end, Chippendales style. He also happens to have some boppin beach songs and I couldn’t pass up the chance to be ON the actual beach jamming it up to the songs of the summer. Plus, both of his openers were singers I liked, which also never happens. Cut to me overthinking my outfit (in case a cowboy swept me off my boots), spending 20 mins looking for parking in Asbury, finally giving up and paying $25 for a parking garage when I could’ve found a street spot for $6, then getting into the venue and immediately buying an overpriced hat I didn’t need because, duh. A merch tent LOVES to see me comin. And then silence. For over an hour.
1. I hope the city council or whoever is in charge over in Asbury Park gets diarrhea at a super inconvenient time for the way they’ve monopolized parking in that dump.
2. I get that venues want you to show up early and give them money (cause who at this point doesn’t want to rip all of my money away from me) but HOW have we not made it public exactly what times each band graces the stage so concert-goers can plan accordingly?!
But I digress, I made my way closer to the stage, something I’ve never been early enough for in the past, and then I realized, I couldn’t leave that spot. I had no one to hold it for me and I certainly wasn’t going to get a drink and piss people off trying to get it back. I got dirty looks just for walking casually toward the front 16 hours before the show began. (Which is wild by the way. Sorry for existing?) So, for the next small century, I lived in that spot. I never got a drink, I never went to the bathroom, I just stood. It was BRUTAL. An hour and a half later the first opener went onstage. He was fun and I was reminded I know even less words to songs than I think I do. Another 30-45 mins of stage switching, then the second opener. Same deal. Then another what seemed like eternity of nothingness before the main event. I read all of social media that night. Everything. I was seeing tweets as they were coming through in real time because I was so starved for entertainment. I texted everyone I know and they were all busy not being a smelly loser cheese stands alone at a concert in white cowboy boots. I smiled at people next to me in the eternity of waiting hoping I might make a new friend. No one bit. I even tried the bonding over mutual hate tactic whenever a drunk guy pushed through by catching eyes with someone near me and doing a dramatic ‘get a load of this a*hole’ eye roll. Didn’t reel any pals in with that one either and that’s how I know I was not amongst my people. Russell commanded the stage as he always does but it lacked the glimmer for me. I had no one to scream sing BRING IT OVER HERE LITTLE MAMA, I’VE GOT A WHISKEY WAITING ON YA in their face and do the MGNO shuffle. It was a great show, and also incredibly disappointing. It was fun for 1-2 hours and excruciatingly boring and awkward for 3 other hours. Peep the content I created below because I wasn’t about to let that view go to waste after becoming a statue in the same spot for an entire evening.
I left this show already dreading my next solo concert, but also didn’t really want to deal with the admin of trying to sell a ticket while I’m in another country. So this time, I posted in a Facebook group of girliecats looking for friends in Asbury Park and asked if anyone else was going and wanted to meet up. Four women commented separately that they were and I DM’ed all of them my phone number and told them to text me if they were open to meeting at the show. I received 0 text messages. One girl messaged me on Facebook and then when I reached out before the show, crickets. Which is worse, going solo and acting like it was a choice, or trying to meet up with absolute strangers and getting ghosted? You can get back to me on that.
Knowing that I absolutely didn’t care about this opening act and couldn’t do another two hours of standing in a crowd pretending to read tweets I’ve already read, I aimed to get there right as the band was taking the stage. This concert was for my good ole tried and true fave nostalgic musician, Andrew McMahon. The pop punk singing piano player I’ve been obsessed with since I was 16, and have dutifully seen live with each band he’s formed every time he swings through town. Well wouldn’t you know, I overcorrected my arrival time and didn’t account for the additional 40 minutes it took me to find a mediocre parking spot 5 blocks away (seriously, die a slow death, Asbury Park), so I was in line to enter as the band was getting onstage. You know what’s the perfect show to be in the dead last row for? The one where the lead singer sits at a piano the whole time. For realz, I could’ve been in a canoe bobbing in the waves of the ocean behind me and would’ve had the same view of the stage that I was catching inside this venue.
I got a drink to buy myself time on how to find a spot and then bopped from one side of the stage to the other, in the way back, craning my neck to see if I could ever actually get eyes on my boy Andrew. I finally settled into a spot by the fourth song and if the guys in front of me didn’t talk to each other, I could just make out Andrew McMahon’s tiny head in the negative space between these bros’ meaty necks. Sick view. The sound was even better. When they were singing, it was fine, although I could hear the crowd more strongly than them, but when Andrew talked, which he likes to do at shows, I got nothin. This was the 20th anniversary of their first album and he was telling stories about why he wrote certain songs, and all I heard was everyone around me’s conversations. Hey babes, if you’re going to just socialize, why spend $60 a head to do so? Why not just go to the bar and put that money toward boozin? I tried to push past groups that were literally facing away from the stage because WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?! Also, I realize I could’ve just gone full dick mode and done the “I’m looking for my friends” bit to push toward the front, but just the thought of pissing someone off and having a Jersey-style confrontation gives me the nervous poops. Not to mention the fact that I’m Jack the friggin Beanstalk and even just standing in the back I heard the slicked bun behind me grumbling to her tall hot boyf that I was too tall and she couldn’t see. Life must be rly hard for her.
The only time I could see him was when he jumped on the piano……or crowd surfed on an inflatable llamaCould everybody please go homeWind Chic (and yes I added the temp stamp because one day earlier I was sweating bullets at 7am in 90 degree heat)
To add insult to injury, after 3 full days of a 100 degree heat wave, Earth was like my hot flash is over, let’s go back to fall, dropped down to 60 degrees and that G-D wind was back, BB! Challenge accepted though and credit to me: nailed it with the perfect amount of layers. Tee+hoodie+jean jacket. I wore a baseball cap with braids because I’d rather hurl myself off a cliff than have my hair repeatedly blow in my face. I never took the hood down. Should the chat monsters surrounding me ever close their gaping yappers, they would’ve wondered if I was the unabomber or JLo just trying to keep it on the DLow and not get recognized in AP. If you’re hating your current situation and everyone around you, highly recommend wearing both a hat and a hood. It was like having blinders up and also really came in handy WHEN IT STARTED RAINING HALFWAY THROUGH THE SHOW. Needless to say, I am done with solo concerts. BUT, I tried. I made the pre-judgement about why they wouldn’t be enjoyable that I was incredibly right about. And now I know for sure, seeing live music is only fun for me when I can share the adrenaline and joy with someone else, much like most of life.
TO BE CONTINUED because this blog was even too long for me so I cut it into two parts. And let me tell you, part two is a doozy.
My favorite thing about music is that any given song can immediately transport you back to a specific time in your life. This playlist is a love letter to my golden years of partying it up in TogaTown. Even though I lived in Saratoga from ages 18-22, I was at college, so it was really just snippets during winter/summer break. The time period I’m memorializing through song here is ages 24-28 (2015-2019) when I was REALLY cookin’ on Caroline St.
Here’s a bzz’ed artsy shot of said street.
In the heyday my pals and I became regulars at Caroline St. Pub, hence the name ‘Pub Nights.’ It’s at this bar where we got probably too close to the staff, spent all of our money (my dad was splitting rent with me, so always a mature decision to spend money you don’t have at the local pub), and took way too many bombs to remember. A bomb was a Monster energy drink+flavored vodka shot and if you took too many you felt like you could lift a car above your head but also might burst into tears if someone looked at you weird. What a time to be alive.
Side bar: even if you weren’t a part of this particular era, I’m sure anyone who is reading can relate to the feeling of being in your twenties and grabbing life by the bombs. You’re still young and dumb, you’ve got a little bit of independence, and you’re either in an entry-level job that doesn’t really matter much or you’re working in restaurants (or both) where everyone hangs and bangs. It’s pure chaos but also pure bliss. You have no clue what’s coming next or when you’re going to get your shit together but it also doesn’t matter at all. And honestly, not for nothing, but my friend and I were just looking back on those times and wondering how the hell we afforded to go out as much as we did on garbage salaries. My first FT job paid me $12 an hour and I also worked as a hostess on the weekends for probably another $8-$10 an hour. I look at my financial sitch now and I’m baffled. I don’t know if it’s a combo of inflation and the fact that I never tried for a second to save money back then, but WTF? I make triple that now and if I go out for one night I am financially ruined. I blow my entire month’s “fun” budget on a few spressies and a couple Ubers. And then I remind myself that this is why I’ll never own a home.
Anyway, back to fonder memories of spending my peak legal drinking years in a town where the bars stay open until 4am and every summer the population quadruples for track season. Before you get the dance party started with this playlist, I’d like to toss out some honorable mentions to the places and people who made these years so spesh, if I may. First and foremost, Popcorn Brian. I could write an entire chapter of a book about this man (in fact I did) but I’ll try to briefly sum up the magic. Popcorn Brian was a man in his fifties who went out solo and preyed on young chicks. The first night I spotted him, he was elbows deep in popcorn at Gaffney’s and I immediately named him Popcorn Guy, which of course came to include his government name when he added himself into my phone on a night when I was the prey in 2013. We quickly settled into being “hi” friends and every night that I went out for 8 years, if I saw Popcorn Brian we said hello and usually he slipped me a compliment. (WAY better than slipping me a roofie.) If Popcorn Brian saw me and didn’t compliment my outfit, I would immediately want to go home and change because clearly I looked like a walking dumpster. He was the epitome of what Saratoga Nights were, especially in the summer. You never knew what you were gonna get, but you were probably going to get a story out of it.
Secondly, of course all of my gal pals who were down to clown and take our outfits way too seriously, or a theme, or singing front row with the bands, or commanding the dance floor. These years were so fun and ridiculous and I couldn’t have done it without you! That literally felt like I was signing a Saratoga drunk nights yearbook, but it’s all true. HAGS.
Pub Nights were for the girls.
Thirdly, I’ve already shouted out Caroline St. Pub, but while most people gravitate to the bartenders at a bar and want to become friends with them for free drinks, I’m the weirdo who wants to become friends with the bouncers instead. Never once got a free drink at Pub, but I did get to kick it with my homeslices Bob & George. I would literally leave my group of friends to stand against a wall and survey the crowd. Why? Because I have ALWAYS wanted to get paid to stand in a corner and people-watch with my naturally resting bitch face. But alas, I don’t have a penis, nor muscles, and therefore could never be a bouncer. I also would never be able to break up a fight. In fact, one could argue my face says my thoughts so loudly that it could actually start a fight. So thank you to my two fave bouncers for letting me moonlight/drunkenly have a running commentary on everyone in the bar. Hope your paychecks were thicc for putting up with me every Saturday night.
Fourthly, is fourthly even a word? Feels wrong, but whatevs. The live music in Togz! I give sincere individualized apologies in my song descriptions below because I for sure took being a fan a scooch too far, but I LIVED for a live band night, especially on a patio. Soul Session used to do Thursday nights in the summer at Gaffneys and you’d get all ages gathering to dance and sing. It was a whole vibe. Guess you had to be there.
Fifthly, have you given up on reading this blog because it hasn’t even started yet and it’s definitely too long already? Chowderfest. I really don’t need to say anything about this other than, pre-2019, there were no open container laws and we were livin’ LOARGE dumping hot creamy soups and alcohol down our throats outside all day in February. If you’re still in Saratoga and not bogged down by responsibilities (children) pls do me a favor and crack a cold one on Caroline this Chowderfest in my honor. (But like don’t be obvious cause you can get arrested now.) I would say take a shot off the Sperry’s ice luge but I imagine a hunk of ice that everyone puts their mouths on didn’t survive Covid…
Closer – The Chainsmokers ft. Halsey
We’re starting off with a bang because I can’t even begin to relay to you how INVINCIBLE I felt scream singing, “WE AIN’T EVER GETTING OLDER” with a bunch of other tipsy twenty-somethings in a crowded bar. So great that I also went on to name a Facebook album the very same thing. I’d still be posting 200 photo FB albums if I didn’t think I was going to get boo’ed off this planet. What a lost art it was to create a unique & entertaining caption for every terrible picture I posted. This generation’s “photo dump” girlies could never. But I digress…I don’t want to give The Chainsmokers all of the credit here because they turned out to be real big douchers who let this smash hit go right to their frat bruh heads, but this song is a *moment.* It perfectly captures what it’s like to be young and messy and make poor decisions. Halsey crushed as she always does and this was the time period when she started to release her own music, which I promptly became obsessed with as well. Also no hate to the roommate back in Boulder, but they made it sound cool as hell to be a mattress thief.
I’m A Mess – Bebe Rexha
Full discloszh, I heard this in Stop & Shop a couple months ago and this is the song that started my spiral back into creating this playlist. I was just browsing the shredded cheeses and almost teared up singing in my head “everything’s gonna be ok, that’s what my therapists say.” I had a visceral memory of singing this at my friend Kim’s apt, saying this was our new anthem because Bebe was crushing the self-love while also giving a shout out to her therapist. It was the message all of us insecure 20-somethings needed at that time. I sure believed Bebe that everything was gonna be alright. And guess what?! I’m no longer Venmo-requesting half of my rent from my parents and leaving the bar crying because my drunk boyfriend accused me of looking at the singer (who we were all looking at because he was performing) so it IS A GOOD, GOOD LIFE!
Bad Things – mgk ft. Camila Cabello
Listen, the girlies were going through a real bad girl moment in 2017. Taylor was in her Reputation Era and all the other pop hooches were like HEARD, we can do this. My friend Kelly introduced me to this song and for WHATEVER reason, I immediately correlate it with thigh high boots. For years I thought it was because Camila was wearing some in the music video and that’s what solidified that trend and me NEEDING to get a pair, but I just rewatched the video and homegrl ain’t wearing boots. So I guess it’s one of those moments my brain made up. For anyone who cares (no one) the-over-the-knee boot coincided with the bad grrl moment of 2017 and I dragged my mom to the mall (RIP) and got myself a pair of my own at The Bon Ton (RIPx2). I still have them and thank God I do because the trend swung right back around and I’ve never been more pleased to dust them off and debut them again. Boots as pants should FOREVER be a trend.
Also, fun fact, for whatever reason someone misspoke at work or drunkenly made up a word, and called that style of boots dopelopes, and ever since then, I actually struggle to call them anything else. If you think it’s stupid that I just wrote a whole paragraph about boots that are taller than normal, think about what a fuss I made at that time, the first night I wore them to the bar, with a sweater dress I specifically bought to wear with them! I forced a photoshoot with my BFF Kristi so the lewk could forever remain in our hearts and our minds. So basically, nothing’s changed because I still do that when I’m wearing a kickass outfit. PS s/o to mgk for being the toxic trashy boyfriend with a hot GF that’s too good for him for a full decade now. Quite an image to uphold.
The best part is after all that, you can’t even see my dopelopes in this picture!
Shape of You – Ed Sheeran
Ed had just released Divide in 2017 and I don’t think there was a day when I didn’t have that full album on repeat. (If you’re a longtime fan you’ll know that I gave it a track by track recap and it’s one of my faves he’s released.) I won’t punish your ears by putting Galway Girl on here even though I overplayed the shit out of that song this particular year. I even made it my alarm song, so I started each day ready to Irish jig all over the haters. Instead, I’ll include this bangpiece that was often in rotation at the pub. My hips DID NOT LIE when this beat was beatin.
My Own Worst Enemy – Lit
Sure, this song came out in 1999, but you’ve never experienced a REAL cover band unless they’ve let this song rip. This is such a classic drinking song, and I probably heard it every single weekend for 4 years straight. Quite literally never gets old. In fact, just the beginning guitar riff makes me taste Bud Light. Also, peek behind the scenes, when I was creating this playlist, I wanted to reach out to some friends who were a part of this era to make sure I included the songs that always made them think of our sloppy times, and while I was out here focusing exclusively of the pop hits of the time, they honed in on the 90’s and early 2000’s throwbacks these bands were singing as we moshed in the front row. Thank God for crowdsourcing because I was forever fuzzy on the deets in this time period. How could I forget being overserved and wailing PLEASE TELL ME WHYYYYYYYYYY with 100 sweaty strangers?!
New Rules – Dua Lipa
I discovered Dua Lipa through this song and oOh baby did this one hit home. There was a brief period of time when all of my gal pals sent their boyfs packin. They blamed it on mercury being in retrograde or something, which is a fun PR spin to put on dumping guys that probably deserved to be dumped. Regardless, this song coincided with the great dumping. Say dump again, Julia. And WE WERE FEELIN OURSELVES. It was Summertime and the livin’ was track season, BB! So we were hitting the bars and trying to follow Dua’s v. strict set of rules. And then Fall hit and we had a great theme party to celebrate the end of Mercury f*cking around. Welp, 50% of us failed and ended up taking those boys back and I wore that boy’s Space Jam shirt to said mercury theme party. I would LOVE to have a moment where I’m like it was our twenties, tough stuff, lesson learned. But HA! I never learned my damn lesson and I can say with my WHOLE-ass heart, Dua knew what the hell she was talkin about and I should’ve listened to her then. 1. Don’t pick up the phone. 2. Don’t let him in. 3. Don’t be his friend. Happy to report that so far in 2025, I’ve followed all three rules. First time for everything.
Despacito Remix – Luis Fonsi ft. Daddy Yankee & Justin Bieber
This was Bieber’s last hurrah of making music before he got married/retired and he was ALL about the collabs with DJ’s and rappers and latin popstars and every single one slapped suh hard, it was tricky to choose just one. Picked this one for a little culture and because it’s an instant hip-swayer. Did I learn a lick of Spanish from this song (or the 4 years of actual Spanish classes that I took?) No. Did I learn how to put some stank on Puerto Rico? HELL YEA I DID! This is how we do it down in *POO-WHERE-TO* RICO.
Cheap Thrills – Sia
Whether there was a dedicated dance floor at a bar or not, during this era, I’mma be dancin. Realistically, by the time I arrived at the bar around midnight, I was already a bottle of wine deep and it wasn’t hard to feel loose enough to groove immediately. And this song is the epitome of a bop and lyrics are basically exactly what my life was at that point. Friday and Saturday night, get cute, toss back some adult bevvies and hit the dance floor. As we’ve previously established by questioning how I could afford any of this, I didn’t need money as long as I could feel the beat.
Snapback – Old Dominion
You may wonder what a country song is doing in a mix of clerb pop beats and that’s a valid concern. This song is singlehandedly responsible for me clasping onto a trend that I have yet to really let go of and it is the exact opposite of thigh high boots. A band full of hot country boys singing about how sexy it is for a girl to wear a backwards hat was ALL I NEEDED to think that I looked like a total babe soda in a backwards hat. I’ve always been a hat gal, but this period of time is when I really ratcheted it into another stratosphere and the very first enabler of this trend was none other than local band Toga Boys who decided to sell snapbacks for $5. I’d like to preface this story by saying that when I commit to a bit, I do it so hard that it might scare some people. My first summer back in Saratoga I discovered Toga Boys and their weekly residency at Gaffneys, realized I had a raging crush on the lead singer who wore the hell out of a backwards hat, and then made it my mission to be at pretty much every show he played ever. Not only did I look like a creepy groupie, but I took it a step further and talked him into giving me a free hat, then I proceeded to never take that hat off for a solid calendar year. I wore that thing everywhere and because of OD brainwashing me into thinking I looked hot, I HONESTLY THOUGHT I LOOKED HOT. I still wear backwards hats, mostly at the beach, but at least I now know I look like a total lez and I just DGAF. Still waiting on those royalties for creating the PERFECT album cover for Toga Boys should they ever release original tunes with that donut float.
…Ready For It? – Taylor Swift
I mean, I’m not gonna talk about Reputation and not include a song from it. To say this album was iconic would be the biggest understatement of the century. A country/pop star who never swore and always kept a pretty squeaky clean image goes basically into hiding for a few years and then drops THIS HEATER?! The album was all F-OFF anthems and her look was EMO. I was obsessed and I always think of this album when I look back on these years. It was a whole attitude and I embraced it full force with my chokers and my dark lipstick. SO hard to pick one song so I just went for the all encompassing fan fave and most annoying phrase that I’ve ever gotten stuck in my head.
S.O.B. – Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats
Another nod to the local live music scene in Saratoga, after spending a couple of years stalking Toga Boys and their other band variations, I stumbled upon 2096 and suddenly, my obsession was transferred. Where Toga Boys leaned more into the classic and alt rock hits, 2096 incorporated more folksy stuff that you didn’t typically hear covered at the bar. I’ve only ever heard this song performed by them. In fact, this band was at the Stone Pony last year and when I heard this song I was like OH I KNOW THIS from Saratoga. Pretty offensive that the actual band was singing it and I was like ugh, it’s not 2096. Still don’t know any of the words, but I know SON OF A BITCH and oooooHHHHoooohHHoooooOOHOOhhhoohhh. And that’s all that matters. It’s such a fun group singalong song. Other honorable mentions from this band that got me in my feels EVERY time was Little Lion Man (another great crowd anthem) and Chasing Cars, which I had also never heard covered and legit teared up every time they performed it. Since I know how incredibly weird I was when I became super into a band, I will also issue a formal apology to these guys because I took “you’re a fun band to see live” the farthest always and I think I once DM’ed them a bunch of pictures I took of them performing like I was their social media manager. The pictures were awful as I was for sure seeing double. SORRY I’M A CREEP!
Sorry – Beyonce
JK I’m not sorry, cause Beyonce taught me to literally never be sorry and also that men ain’t shit. If you’re getting tired of me being like OMG ICONIC BAD GURLS, get over it because I’m TELLING YOU 2017 was for the gurleeeze. We were having ourselves a reckoning. Taylor vs. Kanye. Camila vs. mgk. Selena vs. Justin. Ariana vs. all of her exes. Beyonce vs. Jay-Z. Sir did you think you could cheat on Beyonce and she WOULDN’T have something to say?! Not only do I love a song that gives me permission to flip the bird as a dance move (and I definitely did) but without this song, we’d never have been gifted Becky with the Good Hair. It’s meant to be a burn, but honestly, I’d die to be called Julia with the Good Hair. So much so, that I somehow ended up translating the nickname to my boyfriend at the time because he had given me a nickname and I felt I should return the favor. Of course, his nickname for me was Droolz because I unfortunately had a period of time in my youth where I demanded to be called Jules and also food/spit were spraying out of my mouth almost every minute of every day. And I called him Becky with the Good Hair, Bex for short, because he had long hair that was for sure nicer than mine. Do you see the disparity? Boy, BYE.
This Is What You Came For – Calvin Harris & Rihanna
Even though we found out via ‘SCREW THE WORLD’ Tay that she basically wrote this song and let Calvin Harris take the credit because they were dating at the time, it doesn’t even matter because what A BANGER. This is exactly what you want to flail your limbs to on a Saturday night until 4am. For those of you unfamilz with Saratoga, there’s a bar on the corner of Caroline St called City Tavern and each floor all the way up to the roof has something different going on. The 4th floor was coined “the boom boom room” and I think you can picture exactly what that means. This is a boom boom room song. Strobes and mmst mmst mmst and Popcorn Brian grindin all up on YA. You’re welcome for that visz.
Summer of ’69 – Bryan Adams
My dad can vouch for this but my sister and I heard this performed out in Saratoga and immediately called and told him to learn it because we never want to see live music again without Summer of ’69. Credit to him because he did learn it and he’s played it every time we’re both at one of his gigs and we get up and jump around like idiots to it. It goes without saying that summer is my favorite season, so a song that glorifies all of the good times of summers when you’re young will always hold a special place in my very foggy memories. And not for nothing? You literally can’t beat a Saratoga Summer. So once again, thank you to Justin Joyner of Toga Boys, Motion Blur, & Gravity for bringing Summer of ’69 back into my life and ALSO putting up with me creepin fangirl style with my backwards hat and my weird ongoing bit in the summer of 2016 where I referred to you as my boyfriend without you knowing because I thought it was funny. Oop!
Stressed Out – Twenty One Pilots
I remember this song being bumped a lot, also Imagine Dragons’ “Thunder” which is kinda similar vibes but I’m sorry I can’t possibly give kudos to a song that just screams lightning and thunder over and over again. Anyway, this little ditty is tongue and cheek because I’m sure I sang it at the time with my whole heart wanting to turn back time to less stressful days. And now I listen to these lyrics and think WE WERE IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS. What the hell was I stressed out about at 25? Probably my bar tab.
All The Small Things – Blink-182
Another cover band crowd pleaser!! Gets the people going and I’ve never screamed WORK SUCKS, I KNOW harder for someone whose typical day at work consisted of sorting through chaps, dildos, and Four Loko dresses leftover from a Fat Jew show. Jk that was just one job. In this four year stint of living in Saratoga, I had 9 jobs. That’s not an exaggeration. 9 jobs in 4 years. Guess what? They all sucked. Jk the one where I planned beer festivals and got to travel to Hawaii was siiick. Too bad they laid me off after a cool 6 months. Now you know why I needed hit the bars as much as I did. “SAY IT AIN’T SO, I WILL NOT GO.” – Me when they turned the lights on at 4am.
Back To You – Selena Gomez
Remember the show 13 Reasons Why? You shouldn’t. It was DARK. Real hot in the streets at this time and this song was in it. I had to quit it cold turkey because watching all the reasons that a teenager commits suicide was not helping my newfound panic attacks, which also started around this time. Anyway, kinda unrelated but I just wanted to set the scene for what was hot in the streets 8 years ago. This song came out and everyone was like OBVIOUSLY THIS IS ABOUT JUSTIN BIEBER and then I found out that a singer who I met in college (my cr33pin on musicians goes WAY back) wrote this hit. Awesome for him, not so much for all of us Selena-Biebs stans. As someone who more than once, unironically, referred to her own relationship as the Selena and JB of Saratoga because of how many times we broke up and got back together, I guess I can relate to this song. Also suuuuper catchy.
Mr. Brightside – The Killers
You wanna instantly liven up a room full of sloshed white people? Play Mr. Brightside. Epic. Whether it was being sung by the band or got queued up on Touch Tunes, everyone was comin out of their cage. See what I did there? For people my age, this song dropped at a pivotal time in our lives, 8th grade. We started having school dances in 7th grade. So essentially, I’ve been partying to Mr. Brightside since it debuted. And it brings the house down every damn time. And I’ll repeat this story until I’m 6 ft under but when The Killers do a show, they open with Mr. Brightside and I honestly can’t get over it. It’s either the cockiest move or the dumbest move because then everyone’s like peace thanks for the show. Either way, I can’t imagine ever hearing this song and not immediately feel ready to run through a brick wall and also take a tequila shot.
Truth Hurts – Lizzo
Ok, so the majority of the pop hits I’ve included in this playlist came out in 2016/2017. That’s when I was going hardest in the paint. By 2018/2019, I had considerably slowed my bar outings and was opting for more settled weekend activities. Read: I was broke as a joke and had to be more selective about which nights I wanted to throw money away and then also delete the following day to a full 24-hour hangover. All that to say, I slowed my roll, but when Lizzo hit the scene and blew the summer of 2019 wide open, it was GAME ON. You could not escape this song. You’d be scrolling IG and see 3 posts in a row with the caption, “I just took a DNA test turns out I’m 100% that bitch.” (Guilty.) I remember going to see The Jonas Brothers in Albany and the entire arena singing along to this as if Lizzo herself was onstage…it was literally just the pre-show music. Truth is, she posed a great question that we still don’t know the answer to: why men great til they gotta be great? You can get back to me on that.
Shut Up and Dance – WALK THE MOON
Closing out strong with a song that was requested every time we went out by my girl Kim. This was her jam and if a live band didn’t play it for her, they were dead to us. She’d command the dance floor and it was fun to sit back and watch her give her heart and soul to performing it every time it played, but it was even more fun to get in the mix and have the whole group scream-singing it. A solid core memory of my golden years of Saratoga and I will never hear this song and not think of that time. Plus, it’s just a clean, feel-good bop. A wholesome song about dancing to a snappy beat. Does it get any better?!
Alright, the playlist is over. Now go get a doughboy from Esperanto and stumble on home.
Oh, you’re still here? Great. Feast your eyes on a throwback to the relic of Facebook albums with this visual walk down memory lane.
The time my mom gave me a trampstamp at Grey Gelding when I wasn’t even of legal drinking age yet.
A weeknight at Gaffneys in the off-season
See? RBF could start some fights.
My love.
Must finish the bottle before heading to the bars. This photo was taken at midnight.
Pre-Doughboy photoshoot
If I was this unhinged on the way to the bar, imagine what the walk home looked like.
RIP Sperrys Chowderfest ice luge. 2015
The last run in 2019
Apparently I chalked while drunk too.
Car Bombs at Parting Glass, another staple.
Rock at Desperate Annie’s was my ride or die.
Forced myself onstage with 2096 for my birthday. Plz note the backwards hat.
This flag was my personal backdrop pt 1
pt 2
pt 3
I declared November exclusively for backless shirts and called it Bovember because I’m an idiot.
Accidentally coordinating with Grinder
Just your average Thursday.
All the awards to the band for trusting two drunk girls with a probs expensive guitar for a Halloween photoshoot.
Mercury Girlies
The time I made my parents do bombs.
St Patricks
Will never stop drinking and backwards hatting.
Snow Day = Booze Day
Blizzards were just an opportunity to bar hop in a blanket.
Caroline St Sledding
The time I wore snowpants to Kings and was probably still the best dressed person there.
We brought balloons and treats for George’s 60th.
The next 10 photos are a series I like to call Posing with Total Strangers
There is no age limit
I definitely told this guy he had a fresh fit and demanded a photo
Ugly Sweater Pub Crawl
This was a recreation of Titanic?
The infamous Chowderfest Tigger
Sup bruh
My entire 25th birthday was a scavenger hunt of pics with strangers so instead of posting them all I picked a few especially weird ones
Mouth tats
and prom poses
s/o Tap & Barrel, another frequented joint
No open container laws 1
2
3
The ole boot & rally.
Choose not to count how many times I walked home barefoot.
Sry KC, you seemed to fall victim to all of my “MUST TAKE A PHOTO IN THIS OUTFIT” nights
Passed.
Bombs away with Saratoga Rikki!
This bar changed names 900 times, idk what it’s called now but what a moment when it opened and had a cool neon sign
And inflatable props.
We really loved Hawaii.
And props!
It’s a miracle I’ve ever had friends..
The time I took my mom to Pub to show her where I spend all her money.
Car bombs & chokers.
More chokers
OG Pres
TY Alex for introducing me to Soul Session & Desperate Annies
Never without a Bud Latte and I certainly got my money’s worth on this outfit I probably paid $15 for and wore downtown 900 times.
My first and basically last time at The Horseshoe.
We yelled at strangers a lot.
Just Audrina DJ’ing at Gaffs
The only time I’ve ever been captured by a professional photographer at the bar. Good thing I was sobez.
Green tea shots washed down with a beer
My last night living in Saratoga, getting behind the bar at Harvey’s and apparently posing with cash like a rapper.
The Salty Ju 