‘Where we barely could survive, I was never more alive’

Kadie’s corner

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

“Every now and then I’d swear
I see you standing
On a sidewalk,
In a restaurant,
From a taxi passing by.”

— Better Than Ezra, “Under You”

It’s that time of year again, where I go through my MP3 collection to see what I already own and what I need to buy from Sunfest artists. 🙂

Better Than Ezra put on a kickass show. So did Sister Hazel, whom I last saw in the booming metropolis of Gaithersbug, Md., and I’m so glad that they are playing in a real venue (and not the bandshell behind City Hall).

There was a moment yesterday when Sister Hazel was playing “Champagne High,” one of my favorite songs in the world. My breath caught in my throat when I heard, “Our story’s completed; mine, it’s a long way from done.”

Boy, if yesterday wasn’t the day to hear that line, I don’t know when would be more appropriate. (cryptic reference to that particular day)

And even though I’ve only thought of that person in passing — and fondly, every time — it occurred to me that a big chapter of my life closed yesterday.

And that there are a million blank pages ahead of me to fill.

Yoda moment here aside, I had my first “get off of my lawn” moment last night.

I had staked out a sweet spot at the front of the stage an hour and a half before Shinedown performed. And then, just as the music started, some bunch of drunken assholes darted in front of me and proceeded to dance and bounce and chest-thump like fucking fools.

I get that they’re fans. So am I. I don’t need to jump on people’s feet and elbow their boobs and HIT THEM ON THE HEAD.

I tried to stand still. I wasn’t leaving because these kids (one in particular) were obnoxious. As long as my purse containing my precious new iPad 3G wasn’t touched, I was cool. 😉

The band made us greet each other, like we were in church or something. Immediately, the biggest offender — shirtless and sweaty and smelly — goes to hug me. I said no thanks. He KNEW he was pissing me off, and that proved it.

I cordially invited him to die in a fire, the next time he knocked me over. And five songs into the set, I left and went to hang out with the Charlie Daniels Band crowd.

I felt old. I mean, nobody needs to be jostled around by some inconsiderate fool. But I used to be able to hang, you know? Younger Goddess would have been able to jump up and down just as much as him. Can’t beat ’em, join ’em … and all that crap. Now it’s like, yo, let’s go hang with the old folks so I can feel young again. 😉

Oh, and it was worth it. Charlie Daniels did a Johnny Cash cover and I was in heaven!

Totally blew my diet yesterday, while I was at it. I did well at the show. Mostly lived on fruit smoothies, so that was ‘mostly’ healthy. But then I came home to see that the Over-Extended Houseguest had left my weakness — big, soft chocolate-chip cookies — on my stove.

I have begged her for years not to spend my money on bad food for me. And yet, she does it religiously. And I lasted until 3 a.m. before acting like a kid at fat camp and NOM NOM NOM-ing cookay in a half-asleep state.

If I can walk away from a concert I wanted to see, why not from a cookay I wanted to eat? Damn it. FAIL.

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