I got wicked milk breath right now. Over-spilled milk in my coffee this morning and drank it anyway, and now I regret it, like a lower back tattoo. No, too easy. I regret it like perfect attendance. I regret it like SPF 4. I regret it like not taking that job in Ireland eight years ago. I regret it like letting haters win. I regret it like donut number four, like blacking out around hot men, like working late, like rum and Dr. Pepper, like 4am bars and waking up with your pants on the porch, like the feeling in your gut after you watch a full episode of Toddlers and Tiaras, like when you take a blog break after a particularly depressing post, like when you're hungover and you seriously fuck up band practice.
We got the band back together. Half of the band. And we're not doing original songs anymore, this is strictly for one show and we're covering Adam Ant, and I am awesome at "Stand and Deliver".
It's obvious that we're old because everyone was all, "Hey, let's have band practice on Saturday mornings" and no one groaned their dissent. But I sure fucked up this last Saturday morning, and I showed up sloppy and still drunk from the night before and I couldn't harmonize for shit, and then I felt intense guilt because honestly, what doesn't make me feel guilt, and since when did people get angry at fucking rock stars for being fucking rock stars? I'm all, "sorry for partyin" and kicking ass at everything except for one thing that is very important so stop hating, haters.
No one was angry with me, though. They were all understanding and adult about it. God, when did my friends become so tolerant? Should I be glad they are growing as people, and realizing that they take shit too seriously, or angry at their complacence? Perhaps I should be drunker next time and we'll see what happens.
If I try to be the enemy, does that make me a dick?
Being grown up is hard.
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7 comments:
for my last band gig, we had our rehearsals in a church. on the stage thing - the "altar", i think it's called. so i'm singing "blister in the sun" and "laid" with a mega-fucking crucifix hanging over my shoulder, and we hear the tornado warning sirens go off that night... with golf ball sized hail.
and they didn't blame me! definitely different playing in a band with grown ups... drink more. worry less.
Fucking google ate my comment so here's a big fuck you to google blogger or whatever the fuck it is...
as for your friends, don't sweat it they cool wit it and as my last comment stated before it was fucking eaten, i love milk, chocolate particularly after a good drunk, brings you down off the sugar high you get from the booze and eases you into your hangover, learned it from an old alky i worked with when i was like 17, and i want video of Stand and Deliver and maybe a request of Ant Music? for the Kono yo?
What was the job you passed up in Ireland? Front man for The Pogues?
Didn't know that milk breath was a thing.
Also what is your roll in the band? I see you as the drummer chick. Am I right?
Daisy - We drink sooooo much less. Four years ago we would go through two thirty packs at band practice and everyone would be high as hell, and now everyone just shows up with Java and we get right to music.
Kono - Grape Crush is my hangover cure. But I have to use it wisely, because otherwise I become addicted. And we're covering "Ant Music," don't worry. I wish we were doing some of the more ridiculous ones, like "Kings of the Wild Frontier" or "Prince Charming," but it's only a 20 minute set and if we don't close with "Wonderful" half the audience won't know who we are.
Nurse - HA! No, I was offered a job at a hostel, except at the time I was all, "Nope, I'm going into the Peace Corps" without knowing the Peace Corps would never take the likes of me.
Sid - Milk breath a total thing, and I sing.
Wicked Milk Breath is not a bad band name. Some sort of punk kid song cover band.
"...like 4am bars and waking up with your pants on the porch". oh man.
growing up and being available and fully awake at 7 a.m. is bullshit. i would trade it any day for the hangovers i used to get at 23, which were instantly cured by Dennys. Hangovers for me now feel like someone stabbed me in the neck the night before. Yes, we's old.
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