Sunday, April 3, 2011

people my age, they don't do the things I do...

I eschewed public transportation for a long walk over the bridge to Tower City, fortified by a cup of coffee and an enchilada, to meet up with Tangerine to watch the Indians play. I'm used to downtown being deserted, and it was until I entered Tower City and there was some kind of art fair thing full of swarovski crystal jewelry, general kitsch, generic skyline photos, and the kind of nonoffensive art that I tend to associate with dentists' offices or corporate lobbies, knowing that what I'm making is just as decent, just that I'm too much of a slacker and slightly afraid to out my creative output outside my small circle.

I forget that the rest of the world does different things on the weekends when I ended up at a birthday celebration at a bar where there was much in the way of bad Top 40, 80's cover bands, and general college bar-ness. My peers drink more in one night than I do in a whole year, and most people were with their significant others so I was able to pay my respects and make a quick exit after doing some general observation and people-watching.

I used to be freaked out by social situations involving all of the above, but one of the wonderful things about getting older is being comfortable in my skin, not feeling like I have to fit in or make conversation, or that there's something wrong with me because I can't wear high heels and don't know what's on TV. I drove home in the rain basking in the sounds of Faith No More, feeling strangely victorious that I'm no longer intimidated and that despite everything, I've come into my own my own way.


Randal Graves said...

The royal we's not fooled at this thinly-veiled shot at the bro-variant of the bunga bunga lifestyle, plus I think you made RTA cry.

Anonymous said...

congrats, not always easy finding/making your own way but beats the alternative