So, is Monday (Ha! Now it is Tuesday, that is how productive I was yesterday, or, I shall phrase it as, that's how very very busy I was doing super important things to benefit my family and also the universe) I am all, whew, I had a big week last week. I need to tone it down this week, have some me time or something.
And then I feel like idiot as my big week last week was (other than regular routine): Go to see bands in city 2 hours away (The Neighbourhood, Passion Pit, whee!), Go to Matt's office party that turns into HUMONGOUS DANCE RAGE FUN (more on that later), Go see a concert in my friend P's backyard that he has turned into backyard concert venue for actual awesome musicians, there is not one un-fun thing in that list of stuff. That is a fab list of fab things.
I am doing nothing benefiting the overall world (Except music appreciation is a good thing and can earn a Girl Scout badge, I know this to be true), nothing taxing (Except dancing, that totally counts as cardio), what in the world am I bemoaning?
Ug.
I am grumpy because I cannot rally as I used to. When I was eighteen or whatever. (Note: Am still very, very young.) After regular Wednesday of yuk gym and kid stuff and Matt's long day of doctoring, we drive off to see a show, because I wrote it on an envelope when I was supposed to be organizing the girls' activities and stuff.
I wrote it, on envelope, so it is so.
That is the closest thing I will do that is a list-type thing, as I HATE lists and won't do them, and I am thinking that Matt was all encouraging about the envelope with band scribblings on it because that is a step up for me, he must nurture this tiny, teensy bit of organization in hopes that it will grow into organized calendar or something (Spoiler!!! That is not happening).
TANGENT ALERT!!!! The last actual list I made was when we were going to New York for a friend's birthday party and I start packing extra duffel bags in our suitcase for my intended deranged shopping spree, which is my tradition when traveling anywhere that has good stuff, and New York most certainly does. And we'll either have kids with us and so doing things like museums and such or will be visiting friends and doing fun stuff with them, so I have to have targeted assault strategy shopping.
Which may be the only thing I strategize ever, but I am good at it. Once ran into Saks, found a dress, got my size, tried it on, bought it (and it is fab dress that as M the six year old stylist would say it is perfect transition to fall dress) and ran out in under 5 minutes, so we would not miss our plane.
Anyway, so I don't turn into psychotic person grabbing everything in my midst in frenzy brought on by good shopping opportunity, Matt is all, "You should make a list of what you want to get, we won't have a bunch of time to shop."
Sneaky, as one of the things I hate about lists is that they are not flexible and adding stuff in lipstick when you see something else you like, and then acting like it was on list the whole time does not work.
But he was right, we did not have much time, and so I kind of made a list, and I say KIND OF because it was more of an essay (Shock, right?) that went like this:
Allison's Shopping List for NY Weekend:
1. Leather jacket, fitted and not big, smallish in scale, brown, like the one Bella was wearing in first scene of Breaking Dawn (Which, note: That is the first time that character in that series had any aspirational clothing at all, for me anyway, but it is very,very cute coat and I wanted it) but not as saddle brown as that one and I do not want a hood.
2. Shoes that my friend was wearing when I had brunch with her last year. Not sure what kind, should have asked her, but they are nude colored patent pumps with a subtle not tacky platform kind of like the L.K. Bennett ones Kate Middleton always wears but not as cream toned as those.
3. Gold sequined top exactly like the one I had from Tracy Reese that I wore for 6 years and it has recently de-sequined itself and cannot be saved but I want one just like it, meaning has to be sleeveless and not too high or low of a neckline and weighted so it is not cheesy looking but not too weighted as do not want it to be super formal and also it cannot look like holiday clothing.
4. All this makeup and beauty stuff I have ripped out of magazines, and now have put in a pile.
So it was kind of a treatise on each item, but I could not (cannot) make a list saying Coat, Shoes, Shirt, because that makes no sense because of course I want those things, I want those things all the time. If I have to be specific, and held down to a finite list of items, list reader/shopping companion/husband is going to have to deal with my giant descriptions.
Because he is awesome, Matt actually finds a rambling wordy list to be helpful. Or, more likely, it is lesser of two evils, with bigger evil being me loose and frantic grabbing every cool thing I see and wanting it. He is no dummy.
And hurray, I did find the exact kind of coat I wanted, and the shoes (The exact ones! Using brilliant technique to find them called: after spending one year looking mindlessly on the Internet for the exact ones I ask my friend what kind of shoes they were, she tells me, and I get them, why I did not ask her in the first place is a mystery to me) but not the gold top, am still on hunt for that, will not settle.
TANGENT IS OVER.
Back to long leadup to us going to see The Neighbourhood/Passion Pit:
As my shopping list/essay thing was helpful, it was my motivator when instead of organizing our family's life for the year I looked up bands and concerts and wrote them on an envelope, with a star rating (designed and assigned by me) of their importance and sometimes a little anecdote also. And as Matt is encouraging my kind-of-list ramblings, we are going to most of the shows on the envelope. Yay! Whee! Best Envelope Ever!
(Note: I mean, Best Writing On Envelope Leading To Fun Music Ever. Envelopes with lots of money, or jewelry, or plane tickets, or poems if they are not creepy, cards from the kids, those are great envelopes, but that is because of what is IN them, this envelope in itself is the thing that is good. )
The above mentioned show is in city 2 hours away, requiring juggling and scheduling and whatnot, and I was almost talking myself out of it, but did not because opening band was The Neighbourhood, and am currently obsessed with them. OBSESSED. (See post a few whiles back on their song "Female Robbery." Am obsessed.)
And had not seen Passion Pit live, and am fan. Was worried, because they are more electronic/techno than I normally see live and was wondering how that would translate, and the answer is, it translates awesomely.
Very very fun show, super glad we went, plus extended car time means Matt and I actually get to have conversation that is not "You do that to that kid while I do this with the other one and where is that other one and where is the bad dog and why is it so quiet, that can't be good."
Plus, super fun venue, got to talk to some of The Neighbourhood guys afterwards, yay.
But maybe best part?
Before show, I had been all, these people are not very necessarily the same age as me. I am definitely over average age of this crowd (Note: but am still very, very young).
But then, lo and behold, my mind is put at ease by the lovely sight of two drunk girls, in halter tops, one holding the other up as she is about to pass out/throw up.
Why is this a lovely sight?
Well, really, it is not at all, it is awful, but the age of this duo, this sad friend propping up wasted friend, skews more towards "first time allowed in here on legal license" than Matt and me, and yet, the SAME exact scenario went on right in front of us at recent Connells/Drivin and Cryin show, in which pleated Dockers shorts and Teva sandals soccer dads and ladies in "I'm going OUT!!" outfits made up most of the crowd.
At Connells show, I nudge Matt, as I can see the Wasted of the two girls is totally doing that thing, that shoulders hunching up, while wobbling around thing, where nothing good is going to come of that. I intervene, as I am Good Samaritan, otherwise known as Allison Does Not Want Random Girl's Throw Up On Her.
Cut to The Neighbourhood/Passion Pit show, age of the two girls cut in half, same exact outfit, same exact behavior, except for added bonus, this time Wasted was also kind of passing out. I again intervene, because nobody wants to see someone flat out fall on the ground and get stompled. Wasted is dragged off, band starts up, super fun concert, yay whee.
I am somehow soothed that people of all ages act ridiculously sometimes?
I am a total official loon to take solace in the drunken exploits of others as the age range of the people committing the exploits is a wide one so I do not need to worry about my incessant concert attendance proving I am immature?
That is the twisted logic I decide to use.
I am ignoring the thought process that would lead me to think that this behavior was from a variety of ages of people at concerts, not like the post office, but since I got yelled at by awful man in grocery store recently I have decided that the location is irrelevant. That's my official decision on that.
Will try not to be the worst off person at the concert, but can still go, that is my verdict. Can have the kind of fun I like, excellent. I love fun.
However, I am sadly learning that while the having of the fun is totally doable, the recovering from the fun, if lots of fun happens in a row, THAT is a challenge.
And as long and winding roads do, I am kind of coming back to my original point, which is: I cannot live on 3 hours sleep for several consecutive nights anymore, like, at all.
Concert? Awesome. Super fun. The driving home and the getting up early the next morning was NO FUN, however.
In fact, I tried really hard to convince everybody it was not really morning, that clock is wrong, that is moon, not sun, but remember, I live with E, the Fashion Debate Rooster, and she was up, already checking the weather, and wants her concert T shirt to wear to school.
I was less than cheerful and peppy all that day, which really, is not a change from my normal status, but still. Part of my non-cheer was, Oh man, I've got to get some energy back, get worked up for Matt's office party. Because doesn't an office party for an oncology center sound like a crazy wild time? Better rest up, take your Vitamin C?
It would seem that I am joking, but I am totally serious.
That party is a throw down dance rage fest. And shall ponder how to describe that scene, and how it came to be, as I do the kid thing post-swimming this evening.
Because it deserves its own post, because it is insane and fun, but I have not written it because I am still writing this, and I have to stop myself before I become responsible for blog word limitations being instituted and also because I am taking it easy this week, remember, I was super busy last week doing all the fun and the yay.
