Hump Day Cometh
Last night was my Karaoke night, and I have to say I really did relax for the first time in a while. Maybe it's because I made the first payment on the camera I've been wanting for the last three years. The camera that is in my possession while I pay it off (gotta go take some pictures!). This whole situation is like pure awesomeness that just dropped into my lap. I have something to be supremely happy about.
I picked up a friend, and visited a few other friends, and then picked up yet another friend before we went for drinks. The whole night ended up being more fun for the fact that I didn't just head straight to the bar alone and end up feeling isolated most of the night. It's interesting to go to a bar and watch all the people talk to one another and then drift apart and find a new person to socialize with. Personally, I've always loved conversation. It may sound shallow at first -but talking is one of my favorite past times. I've become a much better listener in my old age though, and that has made a hell of a difference. What's really amusing is now that I've learned how much better a conversation can be for listening to the other person and absorbing what they say -I encounter people who haven't learned that lesson and I'm almost instantly aware of them.
Since I used to be one of them, I'm not rude or anything... but usually I realize the futility of attempting to exchange information with someone like that and excuse myself from their monologues. Last night there were several good conversationalists out and somehow I came home around 1:30am feeling a strange sense of fulfillment. I got out of the house (read:away from the childrearing), I had grown up conversations and suffered only a slight beer headache from the cheap "old school cans" that were $2 (all I could afford). This morning, however, my head was splitting until I downed a bottle of water, rested next to Charlie while he watched cartoons and then made us something to eat.
If I hadn't had such a damn headache, I would probably have written something worthwhile or worked on one of the stories I've got simmering on the back burner. I did feel inspired, but there's no way I can write through a headache, a buzz, and a serious need for my giant furnace of a husband underneath our thick winter comforter. I almost feel guilty pressing my ice-cold appendages up against him... almost.
I picked up a friend, and visited a few other friends, and then picked up yet another friend before we went for drinks. The whole night ended up being more fun for the fact that I didn't just head straight to the bar alone and end up feeling isolated most of the night. It's interesting to go to a bar and watch all the people talk to one another and then drift apart and find a new person to socialize with. Personally, I've always loved conversation. It may sound shallow at first -but talking is one of my favorite past times. I've become a much better listener in my old age though, and that has made a hell of a difference. What's really amusing is now that I've learned how much better a conversation can be for listening to the other person and absorbing what they say -I encounter people who haven't learned that lesson and I'm almost instantly aware of them.
Since I used to be one of them, I'm not rude or anything... but usually I realize the futility of attempting to exchange information with someone like that and excuse myself from their monologues. Last night there were several good conversationalists out and somehow I came home around 1:30am feeling a strange sense of fulfillment. I got out of the house (read:away from the childrearing), I had grown up conversations and suffered only a slight beer headache from the cheap "old school cans" that were $2 (all I could afford). This morning, however, my head was splitting until I downed a bottle of water, rested next to Charlie while he watched cartoons and then made us something to eat.
If I hadn't had such a damn headache, I would probably have written something worthwhile or worked on one of the stories I've got simmering on the back burner. I did feel inspired, but there's no way I can write through a headache, a buzz, and a serious need for my giant furnace of a husband underneath our thick winter comforter. I almost feel guilty pressing my ice-cold appendages up against him... almost.