Sorry it has been so long friends! I thought I was officially off on Mondays, and I set that time mentally aside to blog. I found out that technically I have been all along, and have been perplexing my boss as to why I have been showing up faithfully every Monday morning. Sometimes a strong work ethic can be oh so bad. All that time lost! I vowed to never make that mistake again!
As I step back from last night's events, I can take a more satirical view. Last night I went to club, or venue as Phil adamantly calls it, to see Mute Math play (though the sign for the Meridian downtown did have the word Club on it - but I'll let that rest). First, I should say that Phil follows bands really well. It is very entertaining for him to reveal some new band to me and force, I mean, ask me listen to a concoction of odd sounds, after which I am told is really good music. That was the case with Mute Math. The fact that the lead singer created a new musical instrument in his garage and plays it didn't exactly whip me into a frenzy - until I saw it for myself. It is actually really cool. Ok, but I am jumping ahead of myself.
I have never been to a real concert, per se. Of course at Baylor I saw Christian bands come through, Shane and Shane, Bebo, Dave Crowder, etc. and I have been to the occasional concert at Cynthia Woods (see - she goes by Cynthia) such as No Doubt and James Taylor, this was on a whole different level. I was actually nervous. I didn't know if my natural hair colored hair would fit into a venue (there Phil) like this. I was afraid I would stick out. I usually make fun of Phil for going to these places. Mostly I make fun of how I envision him dancing at a concert (which he doesn't by the way). All of those jokes came crashing down around me last night as I began to enhale kilos of second-hand smoke upon entering the doors, which ultimately led to my demise.
It was bad. I mean, head spinning, fighting off vomiting, had to sit down or I would pass out, bad. I had no idea that would happen. I tried to play it cool. I mean, I wanted to impress Phil or at least I wanted him not to regret inviting me. Plus, I didn't want to pass out, that would be way too embarrassing.
My brother-in-law and a friend showed up so it was time to head back in to the concert area. Phil and I had gotten there early and heard a cover band, which was pretty good, but maybe wasn't the best decision to start the vicious cycle so early. Now it was time for Mute Math to go on. The concert began and my sweet husband found me a spot towards the back, by a window (closed of course) and set me up with a chair and a glass of water. At least now I was in a position to rock back and forth and cross my legs over and over in an attempt to take my mind off my queasy stomach.
All was going well and the concert was actually really good - until some do do old man came up and started hitting on me. GROSS. I immediately abandoned my coveted post to find Phil and protection and was feeling well enough to stand for the remaining 10 min. of the concert. That ended up being a lot of fun. Phil and I connected. His insatiable appetite for creative music finally made sense to me. For that brief few minutes, all the other craziness didn't matter. I remembered I was doing this for him and us.
But it all came to a startling halt, when the concert ended and I made a fast b-line for the door and cool, clean, refreshing fresh air. Ahhhh.
As the waves of nausea continued to flow over me on our drive home, I had a sense of pride that I stuck it out. Now that is living beyond myself, if only for one night. Yes, I did it!
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