I spent the entire weekend out in the burbs…. I know, I know, you’ll probably say that Atlanta is not a big enough city to call anything outside of it the burbs- I know. I’m not in NYC. No matter, there is still a major distinction between the city and the burbs even here.
I’ve been systematically loosing friends on account of my unwillingness to venture outside the “city limits.” Well, realistically, I’ve been systematically loosing friends for a myriad of other reasons but now’s not the time to delve into THAT one tidbit. My inability to drive for more than 10 miles at a time when “having a good time” is involved has dramatically reduced my short list of friends to single digits if that. Thus I’ve been made to make new friends or just figure out “constructive ways to pass the time without feeling like I’m wasting time.” Is that even possible? Some of the best times are “wasted” times. Literally, assuming I can remember those, and I do most of the time. Why is it that most of my peers seem to be using alcohol as much as it seems they are? Oh wait, that’s because I’m not among the peers that use other substances to silence the voices that say that maybe it is all a royal waste of time……
So out in the burbs even the birds sound different. Part of the reason I was out there on Friday was because the events going on in my neighborhood were “indie-rock” centered. WTF is that anyway? Is it the 30+ year old punk girls with their Betty Paige bangs? The girls that make their numerous tattoos part of their ensemble? The 20+ girls wearing their granpa’s sweaters? The 30+ guys still driving jalopies with flames painted on them? Or is it the new local Rollergirls team? I don’t know, but the bands that were scheduled to play at the “Corndogorama” at the EARL* were of no interest to me, so late Friday I just sat here and posted incoherent thoughts on this here blog. I decided that I did not want to be out among the “indie-rock” crowd that would surely overfill the local bars even though I could probably drink for free since it was my weekend to fly solo and usually the bartenders I’ve befriended and bribed with sometimes obscene tips hook me up when I’m alone. I usually hang out alone, hitting all the local spots by myself every other weekend (unless I’m out of town visiting-borderline-stalking-the-guy-I-thought-was-more) because my gay husband** has to work every other weekend and gives me time off on my own.
So I was gonna sit in my desrted office and learn the magic of condensing URL’s and linking other bloggers to my blog but then my longtime friend who is now married with two children living happily in a cul-de-sac in a new subdivision called me and said traffic was a parking lot and would I meet her for a drink? Hmmm? Drink or type and learn stuff I really want to learn but rather wait for a computer-oriented genius to show me? Drink! And besides, I’ve been a really shitty friend and although I have apologized I still have to make an effort to be there so we picked a place we were both close to and drinking we went. Well, I went she could only stay for one because she had to drive out to her parents’ who were holding her precious addition to the family and she thought traffic had cleared by then. We chatted a bit, caught-up a bit and all that. She said she missed me, I miss her too; it’s just our lives are so far apart and so are our houses. I know, that’s a lame excuse. So she left and as I sat there drinking by myself I thought; this isn’t so bad. Then the old man sitting a few bar stools to my right tried to start a conversation. I’ve decided in my wise years that there’s no need to be a bitch (unless you really have to) to people who are out. Simple hellos and answering silly little questions is ok, they are out to have a good time and who am I to ruin it for them after all? Unless, my polite/disinterested tone doesn’t get the point across. So the plan as she was leaving morphed into, I’ll meet you at your house later and we can sit and talk some more and have some more drinks and I’ll spend the night. It sounded like a good idea. So when she called me later and I was still sitting at the bar, I reluctantly started out for her house. I got there, everyone was asleep, she and I talked some more. She only drinks rum and I don’t so I sipped at a glass- then we both realized it was late and off to bed we both went. So all in all, Friday was good because I spent time with someone I care about and perhaps she won’t think me too much a shitty friend after all.
And Saturday it was more of the same, but different. It was my little brother’s birthday and his wife had a surprise party for him. I cleaned my house all day- the fun that entails is endless and inexplicable. How does a 745 sq’ spot get in need of so much cleaning? Dog hair, I tell you, it’s the dog hair!
Off to the suburbs I relinquished myself to, I figured I’d hang for a while and then make it back to my hood if I got bored. But alas! I ended up spending the night there too, and not because I needed to, I didn’t partake enough in the libations, partly because I hate Bud Light and partly because I ate enough to feed a large Salvadorian army in the midst of a 100 day hunger strike. I couldn’t breathe, much less drink large quantities of a beer I despise. But I sat and listened to the unfamiliar voices and conversations all around me. I spent some time with my brother’s close friends, who were, at one time or another, involved in questionable dealings. They have all since grown-up. Most of them have families and have moved on to “real jobs” and meaningful employment. I find it amazing that these guys escaped the streets relatively unscathed and are here now to enjoy offsprings and other areas of life they used to despise. An older friend of my brother’s (33) told me how glad he is at seeing my brother transformed. I had to agree a zillion%. I am glad he is still here. I am glad I’m part of his family and part of his kids’ lives- he has amazing kids. His other friend, whom I monopolized for an extended period of time that evening, told me stories of their misadventures when they were younger, stories I’m glad they survived. This particular friend of my brother’s did get in some of trouble and did end up doing some time in jail. He says he knew then he had to straighten up and he finished high school, did a couple of years in college and did nothing but work for a while to get back on his feet. He and my little brother are indeed brothers of another kind. They are now producing a CD they hope will make it- and some of their tracks are good, in my un-expert opinion. Rap, like beer, is an acquired taste I believe. Some of their stuff makes me blush, tee-hee! Since I am so innocent and all you see…….. A different day, a different dollar spent.
-------------------------------------------
*EARL: www.badearl.com
**gay husband: He’s neither married to me nor my husband, but he is gay and my neighbor and we do spend entirely too much time together. He claims it’s because I am the only one who will accompany him to “weird” stuff, ie: obscure plays, obscure bands, new places to eat, crazy local celebrities events, etc. I tell him he could do these things by himself, he says he doesn’t feel comfortable. I tell him he needs a boyfriend, he says he was not made to be in a relationship cause he’s too bitter. Whatever, he NEEDS a boyfriend and wants one but won’t admit it
I’ve been systematically loosing friends on account of my unwillingness to venture outside the “city limits.” Well, realistically, I’ve been systematically loosing friends for a myriad of other reasons but now’s not the time to delve into THAT one tidbit. My inability to drive for more than 10 miles at a time when “having a good time” is involved has dramatically reduced my short list of friends to single digits if that. Thus I’ve been made to make new friends or just figure out “constructive ways to pass the time without feeling like I’m wasting time.” Is that even possible? Some of the best times are “wasted” times. Literally, assuming I can remember those, and I do most of the time. Why is it that most of my peers seem to be using alcohol as much as it seems they are? Oh wait, that’s because I’m not among the peers that use other substances to silence the voices that say that maybe it is all a royal waste of time……
So out in the burbs even the birds sound different. Part of the reason I was out there on Friday was because the events going on in my neighborhood were “indie-rock” centered. WTF is that anyway? Is it the 30+ year old punk girls with their Betty Paige bangs? The girls that make their numerous tattoos part of their ensemble? The 20+ girls wearing their granpa’s sweaters? The 30+ guys still driving jalopies with flames painted on them? Or is it the new local Rollergirls team? I don’t know, but the bands that were scheduled to play at the “Corndogorama” at the EARL* were of no interest to me, so late Friday I just sat here and posted incoherent thoughts on this here blog. I decided that I did not want to be out among the “indie-rock” crowd that would surely overfill the local bars even though I could probably drink for free since it was my weekend to fly solo and usually the bartenders I’ve befriended and bribed with sometimes obscene tips hook me up when I’m alone. I usually hang out alone, hitting all the local spots by myself every other weekend (unless I’m out of town visiting-borderline-stalking-the-guy-I-thought-was-more) because my gay husband** has to work every other weekend and gives me time off on my own.
So I was gonna sit in my desrted office and learn the magic of condensing URL’s and linking other bloggers to my blog but then my longtime friend who is now married with two children living happily in a cul-de-sac in a new subdivision called me and said traffic was a parking lot and would I meet her for a drink? Hmmm? Drink or type and learn stuff I really want to learn but rather wait for a computer-oriented genius to show me? Drink! And besides, I’ve been a really shitty friend and although I have apologized I still have to make an effort to be there so we picked a place we were both close to and drinking we went. Well, I went she could only stay for one because she had to drive out to her parents’ who were holding her precious addition to the family and she thought traffic had cleared by then. We chatted a bit, caught-up a bit and all that. She said she missed me, I miss her too; it’s just our lives are so far apart and so are our houses. I know, that’s a lame excuse. So she left and as I sat there drinking by myself I thought; this isn’t so bad. Then the old man sitting a few bar stools to my right tried to start a conversation. I’ve decided in my wise years that there’s no need to be a bitch (unless you really have to) to people who are out. Simple hellos and answering silly little questions is ok, they are out to have a good time and who am I to ruin it for them after all? Unless, my polite/disinterested tone doesn’t get the point across. So the plan as she was leaving morphed into, I’ll meet you at your house later and we can sit and talk some more and have some more drinks and I’ll spend the night. It sounded like a good idea. So when she called me later and I was still sitting at the bar, I reluctantly started out for her house. I got there, everyone was asleep, she and I talked some more. She only drinks rum and I don’t so I sipped at a glass- then we both realized it was late and off to bed we both went. So all in all, Friday was good because I spent time with someone I care about and perhaps she won’t think me too much a shitty friend after all.
And Saturday it was more of the same, but different. It was my little brother’s birthday and his wife had a surprise party for him. I cleaned my house all day- the fun that entails is endless and inexplicable. How does a 745 sq’ spot get in need of so much cleaning? Dog hair, I tell you, it’s the dog hair!
Off to the suburbs I relinquished myself to, I figured I’d hang for a while and then make it back to my hood if I got bored. But alas! I ended up spending the night there too, and not because I needed to, I didn’t partake enough in the libations, partly because I hate Bud Light and partly because I ate enough to feed a large Salvadorian army in the midst of a 100 day hunger strike. I couldn’t breathe, much less drink large quantities of a beer I despise. But I sat and listened to the unfamiliar voices and conversations all around me. I spent some time with my brother’s close friends, who were, at one time or another, involved in questionable dealings. They have all since grown-up. Most of them have families and have moved on to “real jobs” and meaningful employment. I find it amazing that these guys escaped the streets relatively unscathed and are here now to enjoy offsprings and other areas of life they used to despise. An older friend of my brother’s (33) told me how glad he is at seeing my brother transformed. I had to agree a zillion%. I am glad he is still here. I am glad I’m part of his family and part of his kids’ lives- he has amazing kids. His other friend, whom I monopolized for an extended period of time that evening, told me stories of their misadventures when they were younger, stories I’m glad they survived. This particular friend of my brother’s did get in some of trouble and did end up doing some time in jail. He says he knew then he had to straighten up and he finished high school, did a couple of years in college and did nothing but work for a while to get back on his feet. He and my little brother are indeed brothers of another kind. They are now producing a CD they hope will make it- and some of their tracks are good, in my un-expert opinion. Rap, like beer, is an acquired taste I believe. Some of their stuff makes me blush, tee-hee! Since I am so innocent and all you see…….. A different day, a different dollar spent.
-------------------------------------------
*EARL: www.badearl.com
**gay husband: He’s neither married to me nor my husband, but he is gay and my neighbor and we do spend entirely too much time together. He claims it’s because I am the only one who will accompany him to “weird” stuff, ie: obscure plays, obscure bands, new places to eat, crazy local celebrities events, etc. I tell him he could do these things by himself, he says he doesn’t feel comfortable. I tell him he needs a boyfriend, he says he was not made to be in a relationship cause he’s too bitter. Whatever, he NEEDS a boyfriend and wants one but won’t admit it
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