Wednesday, March 8

All that I do is wait for you

The Strokes show was incredible. Phil and I danced our asses off. (I don't dance.) They rocked every song from beginning to end. And the light show was pretty badass too.

So I had a weekend fling with Nashville. I had forgotten all about its remarkable cleanliness (you have to admit, Memphis is kinda dirty ... kinda real dirty) and how nice and countrified people are there. And how much better the thrift stores are. My god, it's uncanny.

I don't know. When I'm in Memphis, everything feels a little finite. In Nashville, things seem open-ended and possible.

It could have been the liquor. Or the buffalo burger. Or Kristin's apartment, which is so close to the park you can smell the marble of the Parthenon. Or just laughing with the Kids. Or unexpectedly meeting up with Justin, who I haven't seen in a couple of years, and his wife Holly, who I'd never even met before. Or hanging out in Tamara's cozy living room.

But now I'm back in my apartment, my comfort zone, and things seem to make sense. I've got to go to work in a few hours. Laundry tomorrow morning. My Netflix copy of Disco Pigs awaits. If it's nice, maybe I'll walk down to the park tomorrow afternoon.

Until next time.

2 Comments:

Blogger phallicpen said...

Did you see Poobah and his gang over at Tootsie's? My mom totally hangs out there when she isn't steeped in self-loathing social hatred.

Thu Mar 09, 12:04:00 AM  
Blogger theogeo said...

Eeek! I forgot that's where your mom hangs out! (Because she and I only hang out in the back of pickup trucks.) I didn't see her, but I wasn't exactly looking people in the eye, either.

Thu Mar 09, 11:13:00 AM  

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