Unforgettable August 15, 2009

Yesterday I turned 30.  I want to remember it like this:

I slept in, took Little Guy to daycare, and then got a back rub while watching the “Rocky & Bullwinkle” movie.

I went to work at the restaurant and worked hard because it was busy.  I made some bucks.  I finished eating lunch at 5.

I picked up Little Guy and went home where I found a card and a Hip Hop Party CD from Girlfriend Roomie.  Upstairs, her boyfriend had bought me a cake made of chocolate cookie with a chocolate ganache on top.  The kids and I went downstairs to have a dance party.  I danced and sang.  They didn’t.  They read books under Little Guy’s bed.  I drank a vodka tonic.  Mommy needed a birthday drink.  Tonic sprayed everywhere when I opened it.

I texted back and forth with someone I’ll refer to as “Young & Handsome,” or Y&H for short.  He wanted to meet me for some dancing.  Girlfriend and I planned to go out, since Guy Roomie agreed to stay home with the kids after they fell asleep.  Girlfriend had homework to finish first.

After dinner, the kids and I had another dance party and we ALL danced.  Then it was PJ time.  I put Little Guy to bed, snuggled him, then waited for him to fall asleep.

Then Boyfriend called.  And I told him that I didn’t want to feel tied down anymore.  I want to see other people.  I’m not ready for a relationship so recently after my divorce, and I had jumped into this one too soon.  He was sad, told me he loves me, and we hung up.  He understood.  We may still hang out, but it feels tainted now.  

Little Guy fell asleep just after 10 p.m.  I texted Young & Handsome that I could go out.  Free of child responsibility.  Free of a serious relationship and any future guilt that may occur.  I felt relieved, a little sad, and then liberation bubbled up and burst out like the tonic water had earlier.  I smelled the 30 red, birthday roses in my bedroom, said “later” to Girlfriend who was still doing homework, and headed out. 

I met up with Young & Handsome at the Highway and got in his truck.  He smelled like grape lip balm and had styled his coarse hair into a short, spiky, upwards hairdo.  He’s so young and pretty I thought.  I complimented him on his hair.

We checked out the music scene down the road, then decided to head over the hill for some better and different action.  We went to a bar in the town and had a drink while listening to a solo guitarist playing 90’s college scene music.  It wasn’t what I was looking for, so I said, “You’re so young and pretty.  Let’s go for a walk up the street.”  I knew a good dancing place, and he’d never been there before.

We took a walk up there, and I had a couple more vodka-somethings and then we boogied to the live DJ spinning tunes that mostly he knew.  We danced.  We got jiggy with it.  Ta-na-na-na-na-na.  Okay, maybe not.  We had fun, fun, fun, and Daddy didn’t take the T-Bird away.  

He’s not the best dancer, but he’s not the worst.  He’s way fun to dance with.  We’ve danced together before.  One night, he tried to dance dorkier than I do, but failed and gave the crown back to me.  I am un-out-dorkable!  Thank you, Sid, for teaching me some awesome moves!

It was an unforgettable 30th birthday!

On a personal note June 2, 2009

I’m still living with Roomie and her family.  My room is almost always a mess.  I realized that this is due to having two people living in one room.  We’re enjoying it, even though we’re cramped.  Roomie finished the bathroom downstairs which made life a lot easier for everyone.  We still have just one shower and hot water issues at this time.  

Boyfriend and I have exited the Honeymoon phase of our relationship.  As he spent a month on the road, and I took care of his dogs and place, I realized more about myself and what I want from a partner.  I started a new list.  It includes some qualities that Boyfriend has, such as, that he likes to cook and we have a fabulous, passionate relationship, he’s great with kids, and we can talk about dang near anything without fear of offending the other.  He doesn’t have it all, though, and I’m starting to take issue with it, like the messy, messy house and religious differences and alcohol consumption.

Then, I started a gratitude journal.  I don’t write in it daily, but almost.  Mostly it contains the moments to cherish that happen between me and Kevin, like him staying right by me in the grocery store, or putting on pajamas when I tell him to.  What a good boy!  I love his age.  Anything good that happens or I think about, I write it down.  Sometimes, I write about the noises I hear in the field, like the frogs or the wind chimes, or coming home to herds of elk in the yard.  Talk about reverence!

I got approved for state aid to help with daycare costs today.  Holy fiddlesticks, I’m going to be okay for a while.  They will probably deny aid to me come winter.  We’ll see what happens.  Who knows where I’ll be living or working by then.  I’d like to get out of this mountain town.  I miss the city.  I miss opportunities.  I miss lots of live music venues.  I miss short drives to see live music that isn’t just hippie mountain music.  Nothing against hippies.  I just want more variety and zen centers and dance classes and color in my world.

Last Week’s TT – Saying Goodbye June 2, 2009

“Saying goodbye is never an easy thing, but you never said, you’d stay forever.  So if you must go, then darling I’ll set you free.  I know in time, we’ll be together.” Taylor Daynes

My dad and I used to listen to Taylor Daynes’ album as we drove to and from Idaho to see family on the weekends, about once a month.  I knew all the lyrics well at one time.  I still do.  They’re just a little foggy, like the drive home from Breckenridge last night.  No, the drive home was REALLY foggy.  Back to the story.

Thinking back, my dad and I listened to some pretty dorky 80’s music that I LOVED.  Wham!  I keep that in my car in the CD holder at all times.  Yes, I bought Glenn Frey, Huey Lewis and the News, The Bangles and a few others of whose songs I could not forget over the years.  

Listening to that music reminds me of the good times my dad and I had and makes me appreciate when we had a relationship and he still communicated with me.  I don’t dwell on the silence he has allowed to grow between us.   

At some point in my college years, craving to know the words again, I bought George Michael’s “Faith” album.  How could I not?  I remember when the “Faith” video came out.  George wore acid-wash jeans, a black leather jacket, sunglasses, and a cross earring.  Oh, and his guitar.  The video contained some flattering butt shots.  

My aunt was still alive then, around 1988.  She watched a lot of TV and would leave it on MTV in hopes of seeing that video as much as possible.  I remember arriving on a Saturday at her house to her watching that video.  We could hear her high-pitched giggle from the front door.  My dad and I rushed to the dinner table to watch it with her and joined in the giggling.  

I think that moment amuses me more than most others in my life.  It didn’t get much better than hearing her laugh and watching George Michael shake it.

Last Weekend – Fun and Tiring and Filled with Music January 29, 2009

Little Guy went to a friend’s house for a sleepover last Friday night, and I went out with Girlfriend. We grooved to an entertaining, local rock band. I GOT TO SING WITH THEM FOR ONE SONG.  Wahoo!  We danced with funny locals who had the balls or enough alcohol in them to goof off on the dance floor with us.  We stayed up way too late.  I crashed on the couch and had to get up to work Saturday. I didn’t get to sleep in. What a long day of needing a nap, so after work, I took one. Then, I picked up Little Guy from his friend’s house and took him to his dad’s.

Saturday, I got the night off from work and went to a larger town nearby, about an hour and a half away, with a friend. We saw a punk rock show (Frontside Five) at a bar that didn’t have much to it, but a stage, a cement floor, lots of black paint, a bar, and two, cold, white-tiled bathrooms.

The music was loud. It was so loud that it vibrated loose all the bronchial congestion I have had for the last 3 weeks. Life List: See punk rock show: Check!

I couldn’t help but think of Ex who went through adolescence with the help of punk rock. He would have liked that place, just as this friend does. Weird, rare similarity.

Then, the moment I had been waiting for, Hell’s Belles started playing. For those of you who don’t know, Hell’s Belles is an all-girl, AC/DC cover band. Not being a huge AC/DC fan, I didn’t know who they were either. Oh, but when Girlfriend heard I had seen them, she was sooo jealous. She is a HUGE AC/DC fan.  She was sick that weekend, or I would have invited her.

Anyway, I danced to the music and couldn’t sing along to the lyrics. Those women kicked ass! I didn’t want the show to end. If this band comes to a town near you, SEE THEM!

Since I had slept very little the night before, this friend and I agreed that I would drive down and he would drive us home, so that I could sleep. This also meant that I got to have drinks. It seems like I get designated as the driver when I go out, so what a treat to get a real night out. I didn’t have to pay for my drinks, and he filled up my gas tank on the way home.

I still didn’t sleep enough that night, but it was worth it. And going to work at 9 a.m. on Sunday wasn’t so bad either, and I had Little Guy that day, too. As soon as I dropped off Little Guy that afternoon with Ex, I left in search of a nap and found one that lasted a couple hours and ended with cheese pizza and more sleep.

Guitar Inspiration October 4, 2008

I’ve been listening to a lot of Lenny Kravitz lately – in the car – loud.  I have taken a 3 or 4-week hiatus from guitar lessons, since work took over my life temporarily during September.  The bass guitar line in Lenny’s music makes me want to learn the bass guitar, too.  Poco a poco.  One thing at a time.  

While walking around town today, we heard music coming from a plaza.  I thought it had something to do with the local high school’s homecoming weekend.  When we got there, we saw two teens rocking out, like a live jam session of classic rock.  One played the drums.  The other played the guitar.  They both played really well.  I thought that the guitar player must have begun around age 3 to play so well that his fingers danced on the strings.  Here I am, months into lessons, and I struggle going from one chord to another.  Practice makes perfect, as with everything else.  

I think I would feel more coordinated playing the drums.  I know I can hit stuff with good time!  I’ll need a studio or a Tuff Shed or something, so I don’t deafen the entire neighborhood.  I wish I still had my flute and keyboard.  I’ll have to shop for those at the end of the school year at some point, and maybe a drum set, too.  

Then, in ten years, I’ll make a hot video, Lenny Kravitz-style and accidentally drop a towel from around my waist as I cross behind an open doorway, except that instead of walking to the next room like he did, I’d probably have an Al Yankovic twist to my video and stare at the camera with my jaw open and my eyes wide, like ‘Oopsies, did I do that?’ 

I’d better go practice guitar now so I can go on tour next year and get well-known enough over the next 10 years to have a label that will want me to make a music video.  Leaving you with “Always on the Run” and “Believe” by Lenny Kravitz.