The title comes from a song called "Aside". I think Iistened [is that spelled right? because it looks like it to me, but my computer says not] to it for an hour straight on my way home from Michigan today.
I also am going through what can only be called a massive caffeine high right now. I have consumed three (THREE!) venti ice coffees from Starbucks today. THREE. With two Splenda each, and a little bit of the vanilla powder stuff they have on the counters there. Oh, and milk. Or half and half. Or whatever. I'VE GOT THE FUCKING JITTERS IS WHAT I'M SAYING HERE, FOLKS.
I went back to Michigan for a family 'reunion' or whatever my dad's side of the family has that's like that. There were only three cousins missing, and all but one of the second cousins were there (that is, the children of my cousins, who seem to have procreated like bunnies in the last ten years). So it was great. Saturday at a lake, playing cornhole and drinking beer. Oh, and me. Holding a baby. A lot. But we won't talk about that. I do wonder, however, why people trust me with their children when I've been drinking. It either says something about how I come across with children (shut up, Amy) or that I drink so much people don't know the difference. And right now I don't feel like pondering either of those things.
I will say that I miss my old bar, the Elbow Room. When I was in Michigan I went to the new bar (Savoy). It's right down the street from the old bar. It's GIANORMOUS compared to the old bar. And very clean, except the bathrooms which were a foul pile of foulness and gross. But then, so were the Elbow Room bathrooms, so at least one thing didn't change.
Anyhoo. The new bar is a couple doors down from Deja Vu (it's a strip club, for the prudes who actually read my foul-mouthed entries...all nude club, so they don't serve booze), and next door to a couple of other bars that cater to a significantly different clientele than the old ER did. And you can tell, because now those people go into the bar. Which is good for the owners and bartenders (more people = more money), but bad for those of us who were quite happy in our almost-hipster paradise. I went for karaoke, which was good. The guys who took over after my ex stopped are getting better and better. I think this is the third time I've seen them do karaoke (or maybe only the second), but they're finding themselves on the mics and in between songs, and that's almost as important as things like song selection.
They let me sing the last song of the night, because they are awesome and because people there actually remember me from when I hosted karaoke (seriously, every time I'm in Ypsi, someone random says, "HEY! Didn't you used to host karaoke at the Elbow Room? MoFo, right? OMG WE MISS YOU." And yes, the conversations go pretty much exactly like that. Not to denigrate the new guys, who are awesome. But somehow MoFo happened at just the right place and time, and I could handle a crowd like you could not believe. I said dance, and people danced. I said clap and people clapped. I said SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY!, and people sang. I WAS LIKE THE FUCKING GODFATHER OF KARAOKE, PULLING THE STRINGS AND MAKING FUCKERS DO MY BIDDING.) [Did I mention the caffeine? Because yeah, I'm also typing about 98345 words per minute here, and still can't keep up with my head.)
ANYWAY. Last song of the night. Right. I did "Heartbreaker" by Pat Benetar, which is a song I know I can nail the shit out of. Not only can I sing it, I know it well enough to have a stage presence. Which is always good, but especially if you can nail the last song of the night and send people to the bar to pay their tabs on a high. So I did. And got high fives from random dudes as I walked off the stage.
So now I'm home, building up my strength for Lollapalooza this coming weekend. Or really, in just a couple of days. It's always a good time, and C and I got a hotel close to the action this year, so we can sleep in and not have to get up super early to go to the show and yay.
And that's it, really. There was no overarching point to this post, nor does any of it tie back to the title/song. It's just here, a record of me and my caffeine.
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