In lieu of working on my final
I saw Los Lobos and The Mavericks about a month ago and it was an amazing night of music and dancing. I started a post/poem in my head that night and although I've forgotten most of it, I feel the need to put down what I do remember before it's also gone.
I saw Los Lobos for the first time at Stubb's in 2004. I vaguely remember being inebriated, happy, and dancing non-stop, especially to "Kiko and the Lavendar Moon," which by the way, they DID NOT play this time around. Fifteen years have gone by and the entire band is grey-haired with the exception of Cesar Rosas, who is always sporting jet black hair and sunglasses. Seeing them onstage took me back to a memory of one of my first dates with Doug.
We were seeing M. Butterfly in the theater, so it would have been the fall of 1993. We started dating in October, so despite my currently shitty memory, I'm able to pin it down to a season. We were sitting through the credits, enjoying being close in the dark, like you are at the beginning of a relationship, and the couple next to us got up to leave, the man making "old man noises" as he stood and got his footing. I joked with Doug that I would love be around to hear him make "old man noises." He firmly stated that would never happen due to his low center of gravity and cat-like reflexes, to which I scoffed and said we'll see. And yet, he was right in the conviction of his words. He would not live to see 45. Still agile and cat-like; biking to work, giving me balance, and anchoring my entire existence. The moment that memory surfaced, I burst into tears in the middle of "Will the Wolf Survive."
Don't worry that the night was ruined, it most definitely was not. That memory led to a moment of pure joy as I remembered how lucky I was. Both to have had a love that still gut punches me, seventeen years after it's ended, and to be seeing Los Lobos again. I stopped crying and lost myself in the music and dancing. My third row seat gave me a great view of the band and them of me. I was wearing a sexy polka dot dress and loving life. I opened my eyes at one point and saw the drummer looking directly at me. He caught my eye and burst into a smile that matched all the joy I was feeling. We beamed at each other for a few seconds more and I looked away, self consciously. I have no idea why, but I was uncomfortable catching his gaze after that. Possibly due to the edibles, who knows? Regardless, the rest of the night was filled with dancing, singing, hip-shaking, and laughter. If you know me, you know I love The Mavericks and they did not disappoint. I sang along at the top of my lungs and flirted with the musicians who came my way. It was a beautiful night that filled me with joy. I'm trying to hold onto that and keep it with me each day. Also, I came across the drummer online the next morning while looking for posts about the show and sent him a DM about how much joy he exudes while performing. He messaged me back almost immediately saying how special a night it was for the band as well. *squee*
A friend posted about contemplating identity the other day. "What combination of things and affects and put on traits makes us believe we are one person instead of another?" I mentioned to him that my identity has been on my mind ever since I last saw him this spring. I am struggling to discover who I am. I feel that everyone who knows me, knows a different version of me. I don't know how that's possible, but that is how I feel. It's mind-numbing trying to navigate that, so I'm trying to just be the me I want to be. Sometimes I get strange reactions when I approach people I haven't seen in years. They act like we have some beef or maybe we weren't friends at all. I honestly don't know.
Depression robs you of so much time. While you are self-doubting and self-hating, you don't realize how it affects those around you or how your absence is seen by others. All I know is that I am trying to be present and not in my head as I've been for so long and part of that is stopping. Pausing to reflect like I am now helps me to stay in the moment. I need to remember to put things down because I honestly feel like my memory is failing me. Journaling helps me to remember who I am and who I want to be.
I saw Los Lobos for the first time at Stubb's in 2004. I vaguely remember being inebriated, happy, and dancing non-stop, especially to "Kiko and the Lavendar Moon," which by the way, they DID NOT play this time around. Fifteen years have gone by and the entire band is grey-haired with the exception of Cesar Rosas, who is always sporting jet black hair and sunglasses. Seeing them onstage took me back to a memory of one of my first dates with Doug.
We were seeing M. Butterfly in the theater, so it would have been the fall of 1993. We started dating in October, so despite my currently shitty memory, I'm able to pin it down to a season. We were sitting through the credits, enjoying being close in the dark, like you are at the beginning of a relationship, and the couple next to us got up to leave, the man making "old man noises" as he stood and got his footing. I joked with Doug that I would love be around to hear him make "old man noises." He firmly stated that would never happen due to his low center of gravity and cat-like reflexes, to which I scoffed and said we'll see. And yet, he was right in the conviction of his words. He would not live to see 45. Still agile and cat-like; biking to work, giving me balance, and anchoring my entire existence. The moment that memory surfaced, I burst into tears in the middle of "Will the Wolf Survive."
Don't worry that the night was ruined, it most definitely was not. That memory led to a moment of pure joy as I remembered how lucky I was. Both to have had a love that still gut punches me, seventeen years after it's ended, and to be seeing Los Lobos again. I stopped crying and lost myself in the music and dancing. My third row seat gave me a great view of the band and them of me. I was wearing a sexy polka dot dress and loving life. I opened my eyes at one point and saw the drummer looking directly at me. He caught my eye and burst into a smile that matched all the joy I was feeling. We beamed at each other for a few seconds more and I looked away, self consciously. I have no idea why, but I was uncomfortable catching his gaze after that. Possibly due to the edibles, who knows? Regardless, the rest of the night was filled with dancing, singing, hip-shaking, and laughter. If you know me, you know I love The Mavericks and they did not disappoint. I sang along at the top of my lungs and flirted with the musicians who came my way. It was a beautiful night that filled me with joy. I'm trying to hold onto that and keep it with me each day. Also, I came across the drummer online the next morning while looking for posts about the show and sent him a DM about how much joy he exudes while performing. He messaged me back almost immediately saying how special a night it was for the band as well. *squee*
A friend posted about contemplating identity the other day. "What combination of things and affects and put on traits makes us believe we are one person instead of another?" I mentioned to him that my identity has been on my mind ever since I last saw him this spring. I am struggling to discover who I am. I feel that everyone who knows me, knows a different version of me. I don't know how that's possible, but that is how I feel. It's mind-numbing trying to navigate that, so I'm trying to just be the me I want to be. Sometimes I get strange reactions when I approach people I haven't seen in years. They act like we have some beef or maybe we weren't friends at all. I honestly don't know.
Depression robs you of so much time. While you are self-doubting and self-hating, you don't realize how it affects those around you or how your absence is seen by others. All I know is that I am trying to be present and not in my head as I've been for so long and part of that is stopping. Pausing to reflect like I am now helps me to stay in the moment. I need to remember to put things down because I honestly feel like my memory is failing me. Journaling helps me to remember who I am and who I want to be.