Working at home today and getting supremely in the groove. Re-discovered that I used to do a round up, by month, of things that went on in the previous year as a year in review. This seems like a good idea to continue insofar as giving me a perspective for the year and helping me figure out what I need to improve or cut back on. Previous years: 2000, 1997, 1996
JanuaryTSBEH turned 35 and I ponder the time for an upgrade. My position at GRCC is opened for application and I decline to apply.
JulyI officially start my writing sabbatical and I LLC my publishing arm, Skaldic Press. TheBassist gets in touch for the first time in nearly a decade. I celebrate 16 years + 3 more in keeping a journal online. I am named a co-defendant in a $1.25M defamation lawsuit, also known as #teamharpy.
August The mania, which had been popping in and out for a few months, starts to gain speed. The cabal and I spend our yearly weekend together at Throbbing Cabin getting drunk and going to the beach. I launch the submissions process for so glad is my heart. TSTBEH and I separate.
Remember to forgive yourself, and to forgive others. It’s too easy to be outraged these days, so much harder to change things, to reach out, to understand.
Try to make your time matter: minutes and hours and days and weeks can blow away like dead leaves, with nothing to show but time you spent not quite ever doing things, or time you spent waiting to begin.
Meet new people and talk to them. Make new things and show them to people who might enjoy them.
Hug too much. Smile too much. And, when you can, love.
It’s been a helluva a year. Here’s to 2015 being boring and slow.
This past week was chocked full with unprecedented social behaviour.
Sunday, TheHusband and I had dinner with TheDrunk and her husband then headed out to see Skinny Lister at the Intersection.
Tuesday, I had lunch my last, while still employed, work lunch with Work Husband #3.
Thursday, library staff took me out to lunch on my very last day and that night, TheHusband and I saw Ben Harper and Charlie Musselwhite play at Meijer Gardens. After, we had a late dinner in which I tried to drink my weight in margaritas.
Friday, TheDrunk picked me to hang with her, her husband, and their friend Becky and Pete for unbelievably cheap happy hour at Gippers, where happy hour lasts eight hours. $2.50 for a pint of Perrin Black? Yes please.
Saturday, my brother texted Friday night to see if we wanted to go boating with him on Saturday. YES PLEASE. We spent six or seven hours drinking, sunning, and hopping in and out of Lake Michigan.
Our price for all of this normal, human social activity behaviour? TheHusband and I are too sunburned to touch the other. Despite multiple layers of broad spectrum 30 and 50 SPF throughout the day Saturday, the only thing not burned is our lips and the palm of our hands (and my belly). So instead of rubbing or hugging, we’ve been high-fiving each other all day long.
YOLO. (And why I’m never, ever leaving the house again.)
After having dinner with TheDrunk and her husband last night, TheHusband and I headed out to see Skinny Lister, a British punk folk band, as our first concert of the summer season. TheHusband discovered them via NPR’s All Songs Considered, and they fast became a house favorite.
The band is best known for punk rock variations of sea shanties, such as their take on the nearly 200 year old shanty, John Kanaka:
Once we got to the club, things got a bit awkward. There were maybe, MAYBE, including the band members themselves, about 50 people in attendance. But neither the opening band, The Bangups, a local two piece outfit, or Skinny Lister themselves seemed to care if they were playing 50 people or a thousand, they both gave great shows. I drank more cider than what was good for me and used TheHusband as my maypole as I danced around him.
As I’m always trying to support indie people as much as possible, make sure to go pick up Skinny Lister’s first album as their second one is dropping soon.
I had forgotten how much I loved the intimacy of smaller venues. When we saw Elbow at the House of Blues in Chicago in May, there were easily 1000 people packed ass to stomach, tit to back. It was kind of terrible ($6 cans of Miller Lite! $50 to have a barstool! To fucking hot!) and wonderful (Elbow! Guy Garvey!) at the same time.
Where was I? Oh yes, drunk on cider, dancing the maypole around TheHusband to punk rock sea shanties. Coupled with the great dinner we had with TheDrunk and her husband, we had a fantastic night.
The night was planning on getting better because last night was the return of True Blood, which was patiently waiting for us on the DVR when we got home. Coddling a water bottle to keep myself dehydrated before I conked out, we got caught up in the hot mess that is Bon Temps.
Time is ticking away at its normal pace, but it feels slow and here I am.