Sunday, December 29, 2013

Music, Karma, and Lactose Intolerance

So, yeah, I went out last night.

No biggie.

'S cool. You know.
Yeah, right. It was an amazing, wonderful evening.

I hate that I'm such an insecure whiny-baby that just seeing a band at a club becomes like climbing up the side of a live volcano. But I'm so very grateful to each of you who sent words of encouragement. Especially Eleanor Roosevelt - you rock.

She told me, and I quote,
"Bitch, get over yourself
and get your ass to that club."
A lot of stars had to align to let me do what Mrs. Roosevelt suggested. For example, there's Bailey's Irish Cream. No, I didn't get drunk on liqueur to give me a boost of confidence. In fact, I had but a single drink all evening, because I didn't want to give myself a chance to ruin the evening by being a sloppy drunk basket case. That's...you know, that's a thing I do.

Anyway, I didn't drink any Bailey's last night. But I do get myself a bottle every Christmas. I put it in my coffee in the morning and sip it while making Christmas cookies. It's my yearly indulgence.

It ain't health food, guys.
Bailey's, if you didn't know, is about 50% cream. Which makes it delicious. But here's a funny thing: As I get older, my digestive tolerance for dairy products, especially rich ones like butter and cream, is decreasing. Not to put too fine a point on it, that stuff goes through me like any given NFL team through the Cowboys defensive line.

The yearly bottle of Bailey's has been enjoyed and is gone, and I hope my inner workings go back to normal soon. But I can't complain. Having a touchy tummy helped me get me to a good place for facing down my social demons.

Do you know what I  mean?

You don't know what I mean?

Let's just say that once you've sharted yourself at the dinner table, listening to music in a club is suddenly not that big a deal.

YOU ASKED.
OK, so. I decided that if I had to sit quietly and blend into my surroundings to enjoy myself, that was what I was going to do, and I wasn't going to feel sad or self-conscious about it. And that works. Who knew?

And I had friends there. Which is the best.

Thank you for the hugs.
The show was fantastic. You have to understand that I haven't seen a lot of live music in my life. That whole avoiding-experiences-on-general-principle thing. When I allow myself to go to a show, it's an intense sensory experience for me, and it's always tinged with a shade of regret for the many, many times I denied myself the opportunity to hear a band live. And it makes me feel like a bit of poseur in front of other people who have embraced that opportunity while I sat home and fell asleep with my headphones on.

But damn, it was fun. Drummer Boy made sure I met the band members, and with his help I snagged the set list.

I've always wanted a set list.
Is that crazy? I don't care.
It wasn't a perfect night - I was dealing with low-level anxiety the whole time - but it was a very good night. Earlier in the day, I had bought a bottle of vodka. And I promised myself that either I would drink it instead of going out, or I would drink it after I got home, to celebrate having gone. So I had a few celebratory nips when I got home. They were good.

And dig this. Back in October, when my parents were in town, we had a gathering at my sister's place. I was wearing a pair of my grandma's earrings - my favorite pair, in fact - and when I went to bed that night, I found I was missing one. I hoped it would turn up at my sister's, or in my car, but it didn't. I was sad.

Last night, just before I turned in, I randomly moved aside something on the floor of my bedroom. And there was the missing earring.

I don't have to believe it was God rewarding me for stepping out of my comfort zone. But I think I will.

Thanks, God - and all my Drunkards - for having my back.



4 comments:

  1. Good for you! I'm glad you went and had a good time. Having friends there had to be a big help... how awesome was is that you found your missing earring too? Yay for unexpected awesome!

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  2. I agree, one should always listen to Eleanor Roosevelt, but that might just be because I admire her stance on marrying cousins, and I have a few that are just hot enough to sleep with, given the right amount of alcohol and as long as no one ever found out. (2nd cousins...I'm not an animal, for fuck's sake.)

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  3. Okay...getting your hands on the set list is so freaking cool!

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  4. Baby steps. It's all good. And earring backs are A Good Thing (ask me how I know this).

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