I attended a lovely birthday dinner, Ashley and her friends. Bottles of wine, duck confit with raspberry coulis, conversations of pregnancy, boyfriends and Laguna Beach. Some of my favorite topics. There were plans to continue the evening; a bar, a table, a bottle and several more hours. I had to pick him up. The problem was the hours passed with nothing else, no other movement forward. At a bar where pretentiousness sticks to the wall. The best laid plans go to waste. It gets late, well late for me, and I need to leave. 12:30 is late. When the night has not begun, it is late. When the bars close at 2, it is late. In my frustration, it is really late. I have a lot of work to do and could not be drunk and tired. I could be one, but not both. I have not spent the night with the birthday girl and I have become that girl who (accidentally) spent the night with her boyfriend. I hate that girl. Especially when I was not actually with him, I was just waiting and he was anxious too. Fun was not had. Once I am there emotionally, I can't go back. I am dug in pretty deep. I get annoyed and impatient. I am getting tired and the dinner time Pinot Grigio has worn off. There is no going back. My mood is stuck to me like the cigarette odor in my hair. Time passes and I move on; down Swann, towards home. Asking what is wrong. Telling me I am no fun. Not letting me pout. Saying this is my fault. All makes it worse. I may have been saved, I was on the border of anti. Those questions, the probing and the tone, oh I am done. So done. I do what I know I need to do, I need to take myself to bed. I am no stranger to evenings out, to drinks, and parties, even to plans that fall through. We have been doing this for over ten years. So, I know when I need to bed myself. My mood is my barometer for my actions. I know I am as easy to read as TV Guide. We all know where I am, let it be. Fine, I am a bitch and being irrational. My words, not yours. But I am there and it is growing later. There is not a chance that the mood is going to be unraveled. The opposite is true. The later it gets the tighter it becomes. I am wound up. Continue to drink, to talk, to wait. I will stew, I will sit and I will people-watch. There are some serious people to watch; who are these people? Where do they work? Live? Watching them is actually fun. The clothes, the personalities and the drunk behavior. But I am homeward bound, after all I can drive myself at this point. I am not apologizing, whats done is done. This night was done for me. Happy Birthday Ashley.
I'm always thankful when now, unlike years ago, I know when it's time to go. It's like a flag waving in my face and there were a lot of times I just let it wave. I'm glad I see it now.
I hope things turned out okay for you.
Oh yeah things were fine. I got to hang out in bed, read, listen to Ray Lamontagne. Not a bad way to end Saturday night.