Like the old, OLD days...you know, when I was young

I went to bed at 3:16 am.  (Sadly, even though Littleman is sleeping over at his grandmother's and I could stay in bed all morning, I was up at 7 to use the bathroom...and well...couldn't get back to sleep.) ANYWAY, why, pray tell, was I up into the wee hours of the morning?  I was at a rock show....but this was a REAL rock show.  Last night we saw

Nadasurf11

Nada Surf.  (If you go to iTunes and want to hear a sample of their sound, try The Blizzard of '77 or See these Bones, totally amazing.)

It was an unbelievable night on so many levels.  This was the first show (of the many we have been to recently) that friends joined us.  We met at a bar before the show and I was wasted within an hour.  (Mother nature assured me a few hours prior that there was nothing other than brain cells to harm in my body - TMI, I know.)  You guys know me...well, you know the B before Littleman and the B after.  I was never a big drinker - but there were some Gobhi shows and pumpkin parties where I was laughing myself to tears and smiling bigger than day thanks to Malibu and diet coke. (Yes, I still drink that nonsense I call a Barbie, and yes, I am embarrassed to order it.) 

Seeing a rock show while "under the influence" was a totally different experience.  I know most of you are probably saying, "duh."  But this stuff doesn't occur to me, simply because it just doesn't occur to me to drink.  However, since I HAD been drinking, this show was other-worldly.  Instead of people watching, I was entranced by the music.  Instead of checking out the musicians and their gear (a habit from my dear husband), I was FEELING the musicians and their music.  There were moments when I had to hold my hand over my heart because I was sure it was going to burst through my chest.  It soared as I sang out the songs and danced along with the crowd and my husband and my friends with all that I had. 

It was pretty fun.  Driving home (Papabear at the wheel, of course) I felt like I could have been driving back to Gale Hill or even Green Street (my first college apartment).  I ached a tiny bit for all the friends who shared this kind of night with me before, but reveled in knowing that I have lots of wild rock shows in my future.

I didn't feel "old" (or simply older) until my relentless bladder woke me with its impeccable timing.

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