in my relatively short number of years, i have come to learn the things which are often the most worthwhile come with the “butt falling off” feeling. what is the “butt falling off” feeling? it is the rock which formed in my belly before i leapt out of a plane on a gorgeous day in july with my parents.
I wanted to be a rockstar. Dance on stage. Wear flowing dresses, stacked jewels, and sparkly jetsam. I wanted to play the fuck out of a guitar. A pink guitar. And I wanted to sing. At the top of my lungs. From the bottom of my gut. But as the Stone’s remind us, we can’t always get what we want.
through the looking glass: greenport, li
i’m going to keep this short and sweet, just like the groom. actually, i’m not. those of you that were at my wedding and heard my vows know you better get comfortable.
He was straight laced and corny, with a penchant for expensive shoes and designer gifts. He had abominable taste in music and wore copious amounts of khaki. He golfed. I told him dirty jokes while slamming whiskey and dragged him to rock shows in filthy dive bars. I wore skintight denim and had his birthday tattooed on my wrist.
the smashing pumpkins and marilyn manson ‘the end times’ tour show at pnc was incredible. the people in attendance…. beyond rude. everywhere i turned i witnessed blatant disregard for the bands as well as fellow concertgoers. i came home and feverishly compiled the following set of rock and roll etiquette guidelines.
we are told never to judge a book by its cover. instructed to know people before making judgements. for the most part, this advise is sound. for the most part. but i fiercely believe the clothing people choose wear and the way they decorate themselves speaks volumes. where ever i go, i am on the lookout for members of my tribe.
i handed my identity over to a petite government agent with a head full of tightly wound curls. i scribbled my new signature on a sheet of paper and was promised a social security card with my new name in return. back in my beat up honda civic, i sat in the blistering heat and cried.
a few years ago i penned my single girl vows to my single people friends. today i set down a new set of promises. this time to my husband.
with the wedding only thirteen days away i entered panic mode this morning. hard.