Monday, January 01, 2007
the jackpot question.
the only way new year's eve could have been better is if it were still going on.
oh, such a time. i saw all these people, and they were happy, and they were happy to see me, and then i got on stage and did something sort of ridiculous and one of the band members knocked my chair over and i was pinned between an amp, a former crush and a ridiculous table until the rock star came over and lifted me out by my armpits, and then i blew out the candle stuck in the chianti bottle and then the real stuff started.
the second half of the abbey road album, and i watched from the stage door, which was probably bad manners but, jesus fuck. i don't think i could have planned something better with an entire think tank behind me. i even spent some time talking to that one guy i'm never sure is going to be glad to see me (or rather that i'm not going to be glad to have him see me, that it is going to be this giant reminder of a time in which i was considered That Girl, the one who Behaved That Way), and that was . . . fine. i even got a perfectly non-weird platonic new year's kiss. from, like, five beautiful musician boys.
oh. it was so entirely lovely.
and then i got home and the monkey had emailed me a new year's present: him and his piano, crooning me a song. what am i doing new year's, new year's eve? i feel that it is possible that every one since now i will be remembering being stuck under that table on stage and then the beatles and then hugging so many people.
also, it is now the year in which i am getting married. i could plotz.
oh, such a time. i saw all these people, and they were happy, and they were happy to see me, and then i got on stage and did something sort of ridiculous and one of the band members knocked my chair over and i was pinned between an amp, a former crush and a ridiculous table until the rock star came over and lifted me out by my armpits, and then i blew out the candle stuck in the chianti bottle and then the real stuff started.
the second half of the abbey road album, and i watched from the stage door, which was probably bad manners but, jesus fuck. i don't think i could have planned something better with an entire think tank behind me. i even spent some time talking to that one guy i'm never sure is going to be glad to see me (or rather that i'm not going to be glad to have him see me, that it is going to be this giant reminder of a time in which i was considered That Girl, the one who Behaved That Way), and that was . . . fine. i even got a perfectly non-weird platonic new year's kiss. from, like, five beautiful musician boys.
oh. it was so entirely lovely.
and then i got home and the monkey had emailed me a new year's present: him and his piano, crooning me a song. what am i doing new year's, new year's eve? i feel that it is possible that every one since now i will be remembering being stuck under that table on stage and then the beatles and then hugging so many people.
also, it is now the year in which i am getting married. i could plotz.
