2006 is Terminated
I love New Year's Eve. I know it's corny and overdone and what's the big fucking deal, right? But I love it the way I love musicals. A gal's got to have a little schmaltz.
As you know, I also love going to shows. Combine NYE and live music and I'm happy as a pig in shit. At a show on NYE everyone is in a good mood (well, close enough to everyone). Everyone wants to dance. Everyone does dance. The usual Ottawa stiffness and worry that somebody's watching disappears and everyone just lets loose and has a good time. It's an almost guaranteed good crowd night - those nights where it feels like we're all in it together, we're all one undulating creature with a big smile on its face.
I've been going to shows on NYE for 7 or 8 years. The last 4 have been Hi Lo Trons shows. The first two years were amazing; the last two somewhat marred by my failing relationship. One thing I have learned about myself is that if I drink when I am angry I turn mean.
This year I was a little sad about not going to the show up at the Black Sheep. It's bound to be a good time, but the thought of being stuck in Wakefield with my ex was a bit too much for me.
So instead, I'm going to see Muffler Crunch and some other heavy hard rock bands. But I'm going to a fancy cocktail party first, so I'll be at Irene's in stilettos and sequins. Hot damn. I'm going to have to figure out a way to draw attention away from the pulsing cold sore on my upper lip. Hot. Damn.
I was overjoyed when Shelley and Steve agreed to go to this show with me. I waved my arms in the air and squealed. Even if the music isn't to my taste - and I do have some reservations about that - I will be happy to be all up in a crush of crowd with some of My People, if not beside me, then at least within shouting distance.
2006 was not the worst year of my life (that prize goes to 1995). 2006 was difficult, as anyone who cares to go through my archives can see. But it was a relief. I feel like I've started over, like I'm heading toward a spot where I won't be caught in my own bad patterns anymore.
Here's to loud rock music and good friends, two of my favourite things in the world.
Happy New Year's Eve, everone.
1 comment:
Doctors, can't talk to them, and not allowed to tackle them. (are we?)
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