My Super Special Weekend Blog

So I debate whether or not I should try to split this one up into several different parts. It seems a bit pretentious to do so. Like my life is so fucking exciting that its necessary to section off the bits of excitement into bite sized pieces for my random occasional reader. But lets see where it goes.

EVERYBODY IS WORKING FOR THE WEEKEND

It starts off with the random “What did you do this weekend?” And of course, much of it was spent listening to absolutely horrible music. Friday was the Yacht Rock party @ Dungeon Kids of which is now officially a dungeon. I haven’t had a spare minute to clean up really. Actually thats a bold face lie but you know how that goes. I did the whole super endurance party thing pretty much by myself which included beer buying, snack procurement, pre-cleaning, and system setup. By ten o’clock I was pretty much in a weird mode of exhauston, elation, and utter disarray.

People started showing up pretty briskly. I think at the end of the night we had about forty to fifty people rocking out to the smooth music that rocked. I had set the decks up in the kitchen so I couldn’t technically see what was going on in the front room. But from the pictures I was shown, it seemed like a straight up dance party. I dj’d from about ten to three and I swear when I dropped “Sailing” it was probably the most spiritual DJ experience I’ve had in fifteen years. (No, really.)

DRIVE IT OFF

From there Chuck and I decided to check out this afterparty at 660 n lake. It was the first time I’ve actually driven a car in about a year since liberating myself from my domestic situation in January. It was strangely peaceful although I still can’t drive for shit on the highway. Streets for me are where its at. I still have a moderate amount of driving anxiety from back in the day. I’m sure it would take years of therapy to delve into why I’m afraid of operating heavy machinery like that.

I actually know why at the heart of the situation. Its way too personal to expound upon or to place blame on. But suffice it to say, riding with someone who aren’t necessarily on the same wavelength for years on end can cause massive stress. I don’t even like riding bikes with people a lot of the time for that matter. There’s all these psychological issues that come into play. With bikes its a little different. But with cars, you really have to either be a passenger, put trust in your driver and relax… or as a driver, you’ve got to be in control. I think the control issues that existed for so long sort of bore into my skull like some form post traumatic stress. I’m not saying I was subjected to utter torture driving a car. I’m not saying anything of the sort. In fact, I should probably stop saying anything more for fear of some internet argument sparking up somewhere.

The end point is that I hate driving. I can’t say that that manifested prior to a certain incident. I used to drive all the time back and forth to one of my ex-gf’s houses years and years ago. She lived in River Grove and I lived about an hour away. Now she was a straight up bitch, no offense. Maybe thats where it started. Falling asleep at the wheel, chain smoking newports, trying to stay alive, taking some princess back home because royalty demanded it. Man thats vitriolic… but it was true. Thats why that only lasted a year.

Now I tended to date some tough personas and me talking shit about them on a blog… well thats just childish. But if you had to use the watermark of that relationship and the longest one that I had, there were marked differences. And they would be extreme. But the end point is, regardless of how nice, talented, beautiful, or smart someone is… if you are incompatible, you are ultimately going to have problems.

Driving is a relationship in and of itself. Biking in a pack, well you ultimately can break off if you feel the people you are riding are dorks or something if its that kind of party. In a car, you are in it until destination. And if you are in a relationship with someone in a car, you’d better expect the dynamic to continue whether it be rocky or rough.

I don’t want to place the blame solely on a series of relationships for my fear of driving. I’m sure its much more than that. But I can tell you, simply being able to get in a car and start fresh feels very good. There’s a distance to everything now and burning feeling that everything has changed.

PARTY ALL THE TIME

So Chuck and I hit up this afterhours. And due to the uniqueness of my situation, which isn’t really all that unique when you think about it, I was able to do what I wanted. Even if it wasn’t really what I wanted. I’m reluctantly extroverted. I enjoy experiencing new things and gathering data. One might say that I’m ingesting things in observer mode only to figure out what exactly I am not. I can pretty much assure myself that I’m not into partying past 2 am unless its the right crowd.

It was like rave casualty crew. People who either were too high to sleep, living in the nineties, or just completely oblivious to an internal body clock. Somewhere in there, the cops came and busted up the place. It was such a nonchalant arrest that it took about ten minutes before anyone knew that the party was officially over. Somewhere in there, someone wanted me to get on the mic of which there was no mic of which I was relieved.

This fucking emcee thing is crap sometimes. I’ve almost stopped doing it publicly entirely. I guess some people could call that stuck up and elitist. And you’d probably be right. Some people are so into playing out every night wherever they can get recognized. Maybe its my silent way of disengaging myself from a lot of that music. Again, the exploration of what I am and what I’m not.

All I know is that I’d rather stay anonymous in those situations. I enjoy it immensely. Because it allows me to simply intake the scenery and color. I don’t become part of it. I stick in the back like wallpaper with a notepad and clipboard affixed to my brain. I put little red stars and hearts next to the things that make me happy. And I cross out the things that make me mad.

LIKE MY LEGS WERE EGGBEATERS

So I woke up feeling horribly deficient in the sleep category. And so I referenced my little sketchpad for things that would make me feel better. Part of that involved my bike. The other parts are best left to my own secret dear diary entry; ridiculous color pencil strokes of rainbows, unicorns, and cute girls. What can I do about that, you know? Guilty as charged. But somewhere in there, my bike tires were low on pressure and found me headed to Rapid Transit.

And then I made that decision. You know the one. The one thats supposed to change your life forever. The one that spontaneously invokes furry facial hair on the spot. The one that makes you glow with hipster radiation. It was there that I converted my bike on the fly to fixed gear.

And it was 20 minutes later that I bailed at a stop light in my toeclips in the middle of traffic.

In my defense, I sorted out my chainring this afternoon to a smaller size and thats made a huge bit of difference. Way easier pickup and easier to stop. But it is a symbiotic thing no doubt. It hasn’t magically changed my attitude or my way of life yet. But its again on that list of things to try and for the most part I’m enjoying it. Although my legs feel like rubber and I’m falling asleep at the computer as we speak.

Which is why I should cut this short for now. The reggae up in Atomix is starting to fry my brain though its not a bad thing. But its maybe time to pedal home and get these beer bottles out of my house.

Maybe some Christopher Cross is in order…