September 6, 2010

Waxing Philosophical

I wish I could say I've "tied one on" tonight and that after a long night at the bar, I've gone for an omelet at IHOP. Not just any omelet. A Big Steak omelet. That's the best after you get a little whiskey in you, you know. Instead, I'm making the 40 mile trek because I'm old.

I'm not exactly sure when it happened but somewhere between 25 and my soon to be 29, I lost touch for staying up all night partying with friends and checking out local music and getting laid. Ok. The last part isn't true. I'm not sure if there's ever going to be a time when I'm really too old to stay up all night to get laid. But at some point, I started getting tired at midnight and cleaning my house actually became some sort of priority. I'm not saying its a good thing, but it is what it is. I don't even think I'm friends with anyone I used to stay up all night with anymore. Not only have I lost some sort of magical youth mojo, I've also lost touch with friends. Or at least the people that appreciated my mojo. In just a few years time, without my even noticing, I became someone I used to mock. Whiskey actually never sounded as good as it does right now.

Tonight, though, I am traveling with the windows down on my way to eat eggs and pancakes with an STP unplugged album blaring into the dark.

Maybe it will help scare away the deer.

I sing along to all the songs I know and love and make up words to sing along to the others....

Halfthemaniusedtobedrivingfasterinmycartheseconversationskillprettypennysailmedowntheriver.

This unplugged set mostly took place in 1993. 17 years ago. I dug this band a lot back when I was 17. And its been 12 years since then. It suddenly occurs to me I'll never get kids these days with their whiny posthardcore bullshit.

In my head I imagine I'll ask some kid one day soon if they've ever heard of stp and they'll reply, "oh, that classic rock stuff?" And I'll give them a black eye. That, the black eye, will prove I'm old but damnit I've still got it.

I'm almost 30 but my jeans are still ripped. Apparently I don't feel old exactly. Not mentally. Its just factual. I'm old. Which brings me back to my current trip down to IHOP.

Today was a Saturday. I've been caring for some orphaned puppies for the last few weeks and got up today to clean out their kennel and give them a bath. I painted some of the trim in the living room. I washed some clothes and wiped down the kitchen. I played outside with my full grown great dane and the puppies for a little bit. And by the time that was all done, I was just too tired to cook an omelet myself. It seemed too daunting a task. And I realize halfway through my trip that I did nothing much to warrant being this tired but here I am anyway. I can't even relate to that song Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old). It's more like When Did I Get This Damn Old?

I want to say that I'd like to get stoned in a room covered in glow in the dark stars listening to Led Zeppelin with some close but not too close friends and wax philosophical through discussions with themes such as "What if we're all just figments of someone's sick imagination?" or "what if aliens watch what we do like we're a reality TV show?" But I'd be lying. In truth, all I can think about is how ready I am to go to bed and maybe next weekend I'll stay up all night having some great discussion somewhere.

Apparently, old people like kidding themselves.

about me. not really.

dear you,

i don't talk about my child or being a mom. i don't talk about my garden. i won't mention my craftiness (often) or how much i save each week with coupons. if you're looking for that sort of thing, you're in the wrong place.

instead, let's abandon the tethers of domestication for a moment and remember what it's like to laugh at vulgarity and the world at large.

xo,

j

talk amongst ourselves


ShoutMix chat widget

Followers

There was an error in this gadget

Search This Blog

Contact Us Here

boobietasselsforbuddha
@yahoo.com